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runwithwolvcs · 2 years

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You Know I'm No Good - thirty three

Senior Symposium

No warnings

Two weeks. Thats how long it had been since Tallulah had spent longer than fifteen minutes with Paul, and it showed. Winona had let her skip school twice, and had taken those days off of work to spend time with her. Taking her to the Uley bookshop in La Push, the art supply store, anything to get a little happy energy out of her daughter.

It wasn’t until Lina, Tallulah’s bestfriend from Seattle, messaged her asking if she would be able to make it to Seattle for Keatons School of the Arts annual senior symposium that Tallulah’s energy returned. Tallulah had promised at the beginning of the school year that she would go, even if she understood very little about ballet, Lina’s specialty. She would be damned if she missed potentially the last opprtunity to see her.

Now, they stood in the passenger waiting area at 6:15 in the morning , waiting for the bus that would take Tallulah the two and half hours to Seattle.

“The last bus is at 10:45. Do not miss it, do you understand, Lula?” Winonas voice was stern, the bustling noise of the commuters around them making it hard for Tallulah to focus on her moms tough parent schtick. She was just grateful she agreed to let her go alone.

“Yes, mom. I won’t miss it.” Tallulah promised for what felt like the fifth time.

“Im trusting you with this. I know things have been tough lately.” she said wrapping her arms around her daughter. Six months ago, saying no to this trip would have been a no brainer, but she had proven how much she had grown since being in La Push. whether that was due to the imprint or not was yet to be determined.

Tallulah groaned, hugging her back, “Mom, I’ll be fine.”

An announcement sounds for passengers to start boarding the bus to Seattle, and Tallulah can’t help but bounce eagerly in her moms embrace, “I gotta go. Ill be back tonight, before 10:45. Promise.”

---

Arriving early to the place she used to call home, she had enough time to stop at her favourite cafe before heading towards her old school. Taken the same route she did for nearly five years.

Keaton School of the Arts was a grade 6 - 12 that was meant for kids in different areas of the arts to hone their special talents. Her grandma had taught there for a while in the music department and insisted that her mother enroll her when she was of age. Being Tallulahs greatest supporter in her artistic journey, she rememberd her house being decorated with only her art, though that might have to do more so with the fact that she was her only grandchild. She hoped she would still be proud of her, even though she wouldnt be graduating from Keaton.

Tallulah took her time, walking down the fine arts hallways, seeing all the senior portfolios that were on display. It was bittersweet considered her halffinished one sat at home collecting dust in a drawer.

“Luie?” She heard the nickname that made her blood run cold.

Turning to see Xander closing in on her, she took a deep breath and a sip of cooling latte. Her nerves being set a blaze, but not in the way that a certain wolf had her keening for lately.

“Hey.” she said awkwardly, given their last interaction.

“Since when have you been back? A text would’ve been nice, we could’ve caught up.”

He prodded, going for a hug, causing her to take a step back. Paul had sniffed out Chase who had barely touched her, if he caught wind of Xander she couldn’t imagine what his reaction would be, but she knew it wouldn’t be good.

“I’m just here for the day. For Lina.” she stammered, making it clear who she was here for.

“Right, the senior performance.” He bit his lip, eyeing her, making her completely uncomfortable under his gaze. “Maybe after we can quickly catch up, hm?”

“Yeah, I’m sure my boyfriend would really appreciate that.” she noted sarcastically.

“Boyfriend? You don’t have boyfriends.” he laughed, not taking her seriously

“Well, now I do, so if you will excuse me, I’d like to go watch my friend perform.” she pushed past him, not wanting to spend another second near him.

“Let me know if you change your mind!” Xander called after her.

“Hey, hey, tiny dancer.” Tallulah said, walking up to a petite blonde sitting at one of the many picnic tables in the familiar courtyard, their usual meeting spot. The peformance had gone amazingly with no more interactions with Xander.

“I can't believe you made it!” Lina said, standing up and hugging Tallulah tightly.

She hugged her back, just as tightly having missed her all these months, “I know, I know. With Paul being gone for a little bit, it was pretty easy to guilt her.”

“Paul?” Lina asked curiously, as she pulled away to sit back down, Tallulah sitting next to her.

“My boyfriend. It’s kinda new..” she trailed off, not sure how her bestfriend would react.

“Pictures, pictures, I need pictures, Tally,” her best friend squealed, squirming excitedly in her seat across from her.

She grinned and pulled out her phone, showing her a few photos she had taken of him. Mostly during lazy moments together.

Taking the phone from Tallulah and into her own hands, Lina exclaimed, “Holy fuck, he’s hot. That's the dude who took you home from the club, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded in confirmation, surprised she had even remembered that.

“How old is he?” Lina asked curiously.

“Twenty-six, twenty seven next week.” she admitted, causing Lina to let out a low whistle.

“And the sex?” Lina asked, wiggling her eyebrows

Tallulah blushed, “really good.”

“Ugh, I’m so jealous. I want a mega hot, older boyfriend. Maybe I should move to La Push.” she joked

“I heard back from Parsons.” she said, changing the subject to not mention the whole imprint debacle. Though she did think it would be kind of cool if one of the pack members did imprint on her best friend and they could have that shared experience together and Talullah wouldn’t have to keep such a giant secret from Lina. She doubted it considering she’s not of Quileute descent.

“They want a full portfolio.” Tallulah continued.

“That's amazing, Tally! You at Parsons and me at Juliard taking on New York City like the fucking Olsen twins.”

“I don’t think I’d choose Parsons. Tacoma has a really good school, and I’d be close to Paul.” she admitted, the first time she had told anyone other than Paul.

“It’s that serious?”

“Kind of.” Tallulah said quietly, blushing at the fact.

“Oh, my baby is all grown up and in L-O-V-E!” Lina said in a singsong voice.

“Shh,” she said, pressing her hand to Linas mouth as the two girls began to laugh.

“You know, Xan and Kit have been hooking up since the day you left. It’s disgusting, I can’t even stand to be around either of them. Especially Kit.” she confessed, and Tallulah wasn’t even all that surprised. Though she was a little hurt that someone she considered her best friend, like Kit, who knew all her dirty, dark secrets, would get with someone like Xander. Who she had been blinded by for so long.

“That explains why I haven’t heard from Kit.” Tallulah mused.

“Screw her. We only need each other, besties for life, remember?” Lina said, throwing her arm over Tallulahs shoulders.

Tallulah nodded, “You should come to Forks in the summer and stay for like a week. You can meet Paul, and see La Push. I’m sure my mom misses you too.”

“Yes! I can convince my mom to come too, they can do whatever single moms do together and you can find me a boyfriend with tan skin.” Lina joked, they both knew she had zero time for a boyfriend.

“This is going to be the best summer ever!” Tallulah said, hugging her best friend tightly, both girls squealing with excitement.

Taglist: @cperry0516 , @bhasbhabiessss, @fuzzyfingersandcavier@haventdecidedyet @alwayshave-faith @emmettcullenswife @kingniazx @sorrow-and-bliss@swidkid

#paul lahote fanfic #you know im no good #paul lahote #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x oc #twilight wolf pack #twilight wolves

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mirclealignr · 2 years

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I'm in a depressive state and it's only getting worse by the hour

I have a 12-15 page exam paper due to the 30th of September and haven't started yet. During the consultation with my professor we came to the conclusion that the text I want to work on is extremely difficult to do so bc there's literally no academic research on it and just some ratings and book critics on the author himself I need to have the paper done by the end of next week bc after that I'm going into a 3 week internship at a school for 2 other exams (portfolios for teacher stuff) and I don't know where to start and how and I'm just so overwhelmed by everything bc I'm already in my 7th semester and if I don't pass these exams I'll lose my financial support from the government and if I have to take on a job then I won't finish studying by the time I want to BC I'd have to postpone so many seminars and lectures BC I need to study 3 subjects to become a teacher and I'm on the verge of just quitting everything but I'm a working class child and I don't want all those years I already spent at uni to go to waste just because I'm such a lazy procrastinating person

Please if you or your followers have any advice on what to do I'm begging

okay first, you probably need to take a break and get yourself a glass of water and just take a step back. Because the more you try and do this and stress yourself out, the worse it’s gonna be. You have come so far and overcome so many essays exams and difficult deadlines—you can do this too. You absolutely have the ability to smash this essay and do everything else that you need to do. I believe in you.

but that sounds like a really difficult situation. Is the text that you’re doing the only text you can do your exam on or is there another one you can do without losing a significant amount of time? If that is the only one you can do, you might have to just go with the reviews on the author himself because that might have things like whether he’s an accurate writer, whether his views are adopted by a large audience or whether he’s quite controversial. It might not though, i don’t know. Your opinion counts too, though. But I mean it is a really difficult thing to write a paper without any reviews on what you’re writing.

are there any services that your university or library offers that help you with essay writing? Because I booked a slot last year when my exams were coming up to talk to a woman about where I was going wrong with my essays and what I could do to improve and she also looked at one of my essays that I had already written to critique. I was doing well but I wasn’t getting 100% on things so I knew there were places I could improve. it was only an hour or so but it did help and my marks did go up and they did offer advice on what I could do.

I know this sounds obvious and it does sound like you’ve already done this, but speak to your lecturer & your academic advisor. I don’t know what you call that in your school but we call it an academic advisor. you could also speak to the head of the course to get some advice.

and when I don’t know how to start an essay, I literally just start. And I don’t mean that to sound ridiculous, but I just write something down no matter how bad it is, no matter how bad the english is, and no matter how stupid the answer is. but as long as I have a baseline and something to build on, I can go back and edit and improve and better the arguments. Plus when i’m writing this i usually get into the groove and things start coming to me. Maybe write down everything you know about the topic and could include, write what you know about the author and definitely read those reviews even if they are just about the author, they might have something useful in there.

When it comes to procrastinating, I have been there, I am there. I am one of the worst at procrastinating. Something that has really helped me, is scheduling my day from the tiny little things to the really big things. I even put in to take my pills, to read for 10 minutes a day, to make my bed, all the way to start my essay, apply for jobs, do my interview. everything, I put everything in there. i’ve even put in when my flights are, when my university lectures are and from what time to what time. I know that it’s all online, but it’s easier to see it in my planner with everything else that I have to do that day.

wishing you the best and sending you luck !

#hope this helps #people feel free to add on

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jacob-romero · 2 years

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design diary 002

can you imagine that this one white rectangular prism took me over 15 hours? it's our first real model we make. the idea behind it is to prepare us for when we make models of our objects later on. we learn how to use the project lab, the tools, and the patience and care we have to take.

i think i've spent a good time in this place already, and i've only done 2 projects in here. we were first given the wrong type of paint which instead of taking one hour to dry took around 4-8 hours to dry. in my case a few times i had to wait overnight for it to dry. originally we had a week to get it done, which should have been possible but because the spray paint was for metal, not wood, we all got backed up. on top of that, it is illegal to buy spray paint in Chicago, so to get regular paint i had to take time to go to my local Menards, that however did not happen until i started my second project, pictured bellow, my truck at the time was being fixed.

i learned to be patient, and to know when to stop. ended up messing this one up right at the end but it ended up being more presentable. my next project for this class is rectilinear forms. an exercise that was made by Rowena Reed Kostellow (awesome name).

we're starting with clay sketches. i have grey clay, but i would like to have an ultramarine blue or forest green clay. would look really nice in my portfolio. this project is so complex, 4 weeks to do it. i really want it to look good, will be in our final portfolio to get into our major. each block consists of multiple pieces of wood. it's not just one. lot's of work but more room for interesting compositions.

this project is really my chance to do something interesting. i plan on using small lead weights and hollow blocks to create an interesting balancing effect.

really really excited.

seeing rosalia next week, 454 and steve lacy the week after that.

getting a skinfold test in an hour. (apparently i have 12.9 body fat percentage??? not sure that's accurate...)

life is good.

i'm getting better at my schedule, i've kept a consistent meal plan, workout, life routine. i could be better at keeping my room cleaner, hoping to do that today and get that done. i think i might, might have to sleep a little later today but at least i will get it done and feel better about it.

writing this in my color theory class at 1:09pm on september 20th

#design #designer #industrialdesign #art #designschool #academia #college #collegestudent #university #sketchbook #architecture

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omardelgado · 9 days

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Omar Delgado figure drawing portfolio

1)GESTURE ( FROM SECOND DAY OF CLASS)

2)CONTOUR ( SECOND DAY OF CLASS )

3) BLIND CONTOUR

4) 5MIN POSE (first weeks of class)

5) BLIND CONTOUR POSE

6) DRAWING EGGS

7) BLIND CONTOUR HANDS

8) STUDIES OF SKULLS

7) THORACIC CAVITY & *PELVIC STUDY (Spine in lieu of Pelvic study )

8) SKELETON STUDIES done IN CLASS

9) PEER PORTRAIT

10) SELF PORTRAIT /3 VIEWS

11) PERSPECTIVE STUDIES(3 fIGS color)

12) 3 FIGS COLOR ASSIGNMENT (LAST 2 WKS)

13) MIDTERM

14)MUSEUM INSPIRED (missing)

15) FINAL 2 PAINTINGS (one or two)

ARTIST STATEMENTS (3)

a) MIDTERM

When doing the midterm, having both drawing and figure drawing classes at the same time definitely helped as we had been working with graphite in both classes. The challenging part of the assignment was definitely putting in the time and effort into the piece itself. In total I ended up spending thirty plus hours with all the darkening of certain areas and overall paying attention to all the tiny details that had to go into the artwork. Overall I enjoyed the assignment as it definitely teaches you to trust the process and take your time to put in the effort into what you're creating.

b) FINAL

To start off the final assignment is nowhere near done as it definitely still needs improving and changes to elevate the piece. Starting the assignment off, I didn't know how to go about it mainly because I had slight experience in using paint. The human figure itself is hard to draw as it is and you add painting into it now, I was completely lost and didn't even know how to go about tackling the assignment. Once i figured what direction i wanted to go in I just took the assignment head on and what I have produced so far is coming along pretty decently. My main issue was that I didn't think I would be able to capture the likeness of a person and I think I did a good job of capturing my own likeness in the piece.

c) CLOSING STATMENT

Coming into this semester I had no idea what to except from a figure drawing class other then I was going to work with human figures. I had never taken any drawing classes previous to this one and it just so happened that I took both drawing and figure drawing this semester, which definitely helped as the semester went by. Out of all the materials we used i definitely gravitated towards the graphite drawing pencils and I think the reason for this was that its essentially the shape of a wooden pencil so i was more familiar with it. I also liked how more controllable graphite is compared to something like charcoal. With me favoring graphite out of all the materials, the midterm assignment ended up being my favorite assignment to work on and I can confidently say is the best piece of artwork I produced this semester. Yes it can definitely be improved but the hours spent working on the assignment was all worthwhile and definitely played a big part in better understanding have to draw the human figure accurately. Going forward I will defiantly take what I learned in the class and sharpen my skills to better produce higher quality work not only to make myself proud of what i can create, but also build a strong portfolio to use to transfer to another school as I'm graduating this semester.

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commsslu · 6 months

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Portfolio Entry 2 (option #2)

On a daily basis, I am consumed by media for hours. I kept track of what type of social media I have been using this past week, for how long each day, and for what I used it for or searched up. In the morning the first thing I usually do is check to see if I have any notifications or any text messages, then what I realized is that I unconsciously go straight to TikTok after that, I noticed it is the app I use the most often, it says weekly I will use the app 15 HOURS or more, and in the morning I will look at the app for only a minute but, I am so used to going straight to TikTok and opening it up, even if its only for a second. TikTok has been the biggest consumption in the day but I use it also as a Google, for example when I want to learn how to cook something I go straight to TikTok, or for my news reports again straight to TikTok. I would say it also is like selective exposure because we control what type of media we are exposed to, the app is to our liking and if its something of our beliefs we are more into it because we are on the side of media that others with your same interest are on, so we get sucked into more than we already are, almost like a virtual bonding experience.

Like everyone else, I occasionally use Instagram and Snapchat but, not as much as others use it, I use more Spotify. I've noticed that since I moved to Spain I have spent more time on Spotify than I had before. Since in the city, I have a lot of times I walk or use the metro more I don't like walking alone with no noise or not talking to someone, so I always have my headphones on. I'm not listening to music but I listen to podcasts, there is not a day I won't do this, especially when walking to school and back home I get a bunch of the newest news about social media from these podcasts of people my age talking about random things, but still I enjoy it and continue to listen to them. All in all, we are constantly being consumed by social media in different ways throughout the day and until we take a look at it we don't realize exactly how much we are consumed by it.

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spicyspencerreid · 4 years

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The Wonderful Benefits Of Physical Touch

A Spencer Reid Imagine

Female!Reader, BAU!Reader// A whole 4939 words

Warnings// Mentions of domestic abuse (not inflicted on reader or involving Spencer), kissing, A SHIT TON OF FLUFF, language, lack of spellcheck, this is just so so so so so soft like- I know it’s long, but it’ll make your heart warm

Summary// Reader’s had trouble sleeping for the past couple of nights and Spencer notices something’s off with her, it comes out when they have to share a hotel room and he helps her fall asleep.

Key// Y/f/n- Your first name, Y/m/n- Your middle name, Y/l/n- Your last name

Not my gif: I hope you guys enjoy, I love this one and spent wayyyyy too much time on it!!

You woke up in a cold sweat, your least favorite way to wake up. You were shivering, but you could feel sweat slowly dripping down your face. You took a second to catch your breath before trying to remember where you were. You noticed the sun, then your light blue curtains, then your alarm clock. 5:00AM. You sighed, having finally fell asleep at 4:30, you hoped you’d get more than a half hour of sleep before you needed to be up at 6:00, but it looks like that wasn’t in the cards for you.

You were exhausted, and there was nothing worse than being exhausted and not being able to sleep. Luckily, coffee had been enough to keep you going for the past couple of weeks. You weren’t exactly sure why you couldn’t sleep. At first you were having nightmares, but they’d gone away.

A month ago, your older sister, Hailee, went missing. A week after she showed up at your doorstep, told you she was running from her abusive husband.

You heard a knock on your door, causing all the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. You reached in the drawer of your entry table, pulling out your gun. To be completely honest, you hated guns, probably because you’d blamed them for a good amount of the problems in the world, but as the communications liaison, you were required to have one for your job.

You peered through the peephole of your apartment, dropping the gun on the ground when you saw who it was. You pulled open the door as fast as possible, pulling her into a hug as tears poured out of your eyes.

“Never, ever scare me like that again Hails,” your sister was in charge of public relations for Givenchy in Paris, and every time she visited you she brought you an exclusive portfolio of their latest designs. So when you felt a book up against your chest, you weren’t surprised, and didn’t give it a second thought, “What’s this?” You opened the book to scroll through the pages, only to gasp at what you saw. Broken ribs, broken legs, broken everything.

“My medical records...” you looked up at her to see you hadn’t made eye contact this entire time, meaning you hadn’t noticed the dark purple under her eye. You knew instantly, having seen it too much in your line of work, “I wanna put him in jail, but I had to get out of there first. I checked the calendar you sent me looking for your next day off and booked the quickest flight I could get. I wanted to tell you, I’m so sorry-” You and your sister were closer than ever, and you cursed yourself for not picking up on it when she wasn’t coming to many more family events. She probably knew if you saw her with him in person you’d pick up on it instantly.

“Stop apologizing, we’re gonna put that asshole in jail, okay?” She nodded and you pulled her back into another hug.

“I-I have recordings. Of him yelling at me, do we need them?” She choked out through tears. All your life she’d been your protector since you were kids, but more importantly, she was your best friend, only two years apart from you in age, which is why you knew something was off when she hadn’t called to check up on you in a week like she normally did. Your parents refused to report her missing, not that you tried to get them to or anything, they just assumed she was in between countries and not able to answer her phone. Spencer and JJ could both tell something was up with you at work, but didn’t want to push you. You ended up telling them you could feel something was off with your sister, and you hadn’t slept, but if anyone could work on no sleep, it was you.

“That would be good, go sit down. Does he know you’re gone? I’m gonna get you water.” You went straight into your kitchen, filling up a glass.

“I don’t think so. I told him I had to go on a business trip, even bought a plane ticket to London and everything. I was gonna call mom and dad, but I didn’t know if he could tap into my phone or something.” You handed her the glass.

“I’m gonna make a couple phone calls, you need sleep,” you reached for the blanket on your couch to lay over her.

“Y/n/n,” she grabbed your wrist, “you look like you need sleep,” she wasn’t wrong, you hadn’t slept for more than four hours after the first missed call of hers. You thought you’d covered it up fairly well, but if anyone could tell, it was her.

“I’m fine, you can sleep in my bed if the couch is uncomfortable, but really, get some rest.” You called Hotch, who was in the office, and faxed him copies of Hailee’s medical records, telling him it was an emergency and you needed him to contact the police in Hailee’s county and arrest her husband. He was arrested that day, and pleaded guilty after more and more women started to stand up.

You were thankful Hailee came to you, but since then, you still hadn’t gotten a full night of sleep. Even after he was put in prison, even after everything was settled with your parents, even though you knew Hailee was in bed safe, you still felt off. The nightmares faded, but the bad sleeping habits stayed. And you had no idea why. You’d tried everything, herbal remedies, meditation, ice baths, etc, but none of it worked.

You got in the shower, got dressed, and made yourself breakfast, jamming out to music to try to improve your mood before getting on your way. You arrived at work at 7:00, usually arriving at 7:15, you were hyper-organized, so you always liked to have the case out and ready at 7:20, giving you ten minutes to prep in your head. Since you were early, you turned on your favorite audiobook and closed your eyes for a couple seconds, taking in the calm before going to look at dead bodies. You opened your eyes after a couple minutes, your body realizing you fell asleep. You checked the clock in your car. Shit. It was 7:25. You grabbed your bag and walked into the building, grabbing the file off of your desk and walking as fast as you could into the conference room. Derek and JJ were already sitting in the conference room chatting amongst themselves. You walked in and rapidly started pinning pictures up to the board, you already knew the case, but needed to have everything ready to present.

“Derek I can’t reach that thumbtack can you grab it.” It was barely out of your reach,

“Wow Y/n, no ‘good morning my sweet Derek, how are you on this fine day”?” He was right, you weren’t exactly your chipper self this morning.

“You don’t wanna fuck with me right now Morgan,” you turned to glare at him, earning a laugh from JJ.

“Damn, okay, put those daggers away, I’ll grab the thumbtack...,” Derek handed you the thumbtack and you pinned up your final picture. You closed your eyes and started to go over what you were going to say in your head. You could feel JJ and Derek judging you, now joined by Emily who walked in while your eyes were closed, “A single word and I will hurt all of you, slowly but effectively.” Spencer walked in the room tapping your shoulder and slightly startling you, causing you to jump. He put one hand on your shoulder causing heat to rise to your cheeks. Spencer was your best friend, your adorable, undateable, best friend. You could practically feel JJ giving you a look, you were so undeniably lucky Spencer wasn’t exactly the best at social cues and wasn’t always trying to profile you, because you were the absolute worst at hiding your innocent little crush.

“Woah...I just brought you coffee, I saw your mug was still in the cabinet and assumed you didn’t arrive here at your usual 7:15,” he handed you a cup of coffee, and you took a deep breath.

“Spencer Reid, you are my knight in shining amour,” Spencer smiled and you sipped your coffee, thankful he knew just how you liked it.

“What do we have?” Hotch walked in and you went into formation.

“Three dead in Seattle,” you pointed to the board, reading through their names and ages.

“They’re all the same age, but there’s no specific type here?” JJ asked.

“Yes, about that, their...um...” you swallowed, tripping over your words just a little, “ring fingers are all cut off.”

“Do we know what with?” Emily motioned for the picture and you handed her one of the extra copies.

“M.E. said they’d contact us when we arrive.”

“Alright, wheels up in 30,” everyone head out of the conference room while you took a second to clean up your files. You sat down in one of the empty seats, drinking your coffee and taking a deep breath before heading back out into the bullpen. You sat at your desk and pulled out Pride and Prejudice, deciding to reread it for the fourth time this month. You starting sucking on your lower lip, feeling tears start to well up in your eyes, you body was on override from lack of sleep, and being off schedule was putting you over the edge. It had never been an issue before, but at the moment, you just wanted time to not look at dead bodies, but you didn’t feel like that plane ride to Washington was gonna be long enough. You took a deep breath, knowing you could stop yourself from crying if you tried hard enough. You felt that familiar hand on your shoulder.

“Come with me I wanna show you something,” Spencer lightly pulled your shoulder.

“Spence,” you looked up at him, something was off, “I’m reading,” you smiled at him with furrowed eyebrows, motion to your book. Spencer grabbed the book out of your hand and scrolled through the pages.

“I will literally recite the first ten pages for you later,” he raised his eyebrows at you and you caved, he was lucky he was your one weakness.

“Okay, okay fine, will you at least tell me where we’re going?” You walked with him only to end up in an empty office. An agent had transferred last week leaving an empty office in the back hallway. Spencer pulled you in and closed the blinds, “Am I being held hostage?” you joked, not getting a laugh in response.

“What’s going on with you?” Shit.

“Nothing’s going on with me?” You were good, really good, at masking emotion, even for a team of profilers, but apparently you weren’t good enough today.

“Y/n...” you stared at him, standing your guard, “Okay fine, you’ve started doing that foot-tapping thing again, you forgot your coffee this morning, and you’re blinking more rapidly than average, which means you’re either dehydrated or trying to stop yourself from crying,” you felt your eyes start to water again, “and you're probably the most well-hydrated person I’ve ever met, so what’s going on?” When you didn’t respond with words, but a sniffle and a tear, Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you up against him. You knew he did this because studies showed skin to skin contact was the easiest way to calm any negative emotion, but your heart still stopped beating for a second as your wrapped your hands around his neck, “I-I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just wanted to know if I could help,” he whispered, as if talking too loud would only make you more upset. Once you calmed down a little, you pulled away, “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, you didn’t really have anything to talk about, you were just so tired.

“Sorry,” you wiped the leftover tears from your face, “I’m just having a bad day, didn’t sleep much last night,” you hadn’t slept much in more than just last night, but you didn’t feel like worrying anyone right now.

“It’s okay,” his voice was still gentle.

“Do I have streaks on my face?” He shook his head, “We should probably go to the jet.” You motioned to the door.

“We have 17 minutes if you need another second...”

“Nope, I am all good, but thank you, seriously Spence,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it, “thank you,” you speed walked back into the bullpen, putting on your best smile. When you got on the jet, Spencer sat across from you. You played chess most of the flight while debating over movies with Emily.

The case went by extremely quick, considering the fact that the Unsub’s maid found a box of fingers with wedding rings on them in the Unsub’s closet. You only had to hold one press conference to get someone to come forward, which was lovely because all you wanted to do was get home.

“Bad news,” Hotch walked into the room you and Emily were sitting in the Police Office, “Jet can’t come in until sunrise, they’re expecting a big storm,” you threw your head back, damnit, “I was able to get four rooms at the hotel, so double up. Oh and Y/n, good work on the press conference, if it wasn’t for you, we’d probably be stuck here a couple more days,” you smiled. A couple seconds later Spencer popped his head into the room.

“Penelope called Morgan, and JJ’s got Emily, so that leaves you and me,” of course it did.

“Sounds good,” you smiled, feeling Emily’s eyes on you as he turned around and left.

“Wow, complimented by Hotch and getting a night alone with Spencer, it’s like all your dreams are coming true at once,” you playfully slapped her arm.

When you got back to your hotel you all split off into your rooms. You argued with Spencer over who got to use the bathroom first, but you eventually won. Won meaning you got to the bathroom before him. You put on a sports bra and shorts, following it up with a loose tee-shirt when you remembered you were sharing a room with Spencer and not Emily and JJ per usual. Usually Penelope didn’t come on trips unless necessary, which in this case she was, so instead of the usual three rooms, Hotch got four. You washed your face with cold water hoping the internet was right and it would help you fall asleep.

“Don’t use up all the hot water,” Spencer yelled in from the bedroom.

“I take morning showers,” you opened the bathroom door and reentered the bedroom.

“Good, Derek takes forty-five minute showers.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Spencer took a pretty quick shower, and you rested yourself in the queen-sized bed, grabbing your copy of Pride and Prejudice and returning to your page. You were pretty into the story when Spencer came back in.

“So...I can take the floor,” you’d totally forgotten once again that these was not your usual sleeping conditions, but you still trusted Spencer enough to share a bed with him, you’d fallen asleep next to him on the couch in his apartment on multiple movie nights, how is that any different?

“Spence, how long have we known each other?”

“209 days,” you giggled, expecting a much less specific answer.

“Okay then I’d assume our 209 day friendship is enough to allow us to share a bed together without it being weird?” You marked your page and closed your book.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

“You are quite the gentleman, but yes, I swear. Unless you snore like Emily, then I might kick you out of the room completely,” you pointed finger guns at him. He laughed and laid on the opposite side of the bed, grabbing a book of his own. He finished his book in a couple minutes, closing it and grabbing a manual from the desk.

“I know you are not about to read that microwave manual.”

“What? It’s interesting,” he looked so cute perusing through all of the different manuals spread out on the hotel desk.

“That is a bad, bad idea,” you closed your book shut, “actually, we should both probably try to get some sleep,” you were exhausted, and while you knew you weren’t going to get much sleep, you still wanted darkness and quiet to revel in. He shut off the lights and pulled the covers over his head, whispering a goodnight to you before drifting off into sleep. You were about two hours into your nightly routine of staring at the ceiling when Spencer’s voice brought you back into reality.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” He muttered, you glanced over at him to see his eyes were still closed and decided to pretend you were asleep, “Y/n, I know the length of space between breaths when a human is sleeping, therefore, I know you’re awake.” You turned your head to face him.

“You got me,” you yawned. He sat up against the headboard of the bed, and you did the same.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on now?” You continued to stare at the wall in front of the bed, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“I haven’t been sleeping for a while,” you leaned your head back against the wood.

“I thought that got better?”

“I’ve been trying, but I can’t sleep for more than thirty minutes at a time, I haven’t been able to since Hailee went missing. I thought it would fix itself when I found out she was fine, but nope.”

“You...” he reached out to poke your leg, making you giggle, “should’ve told me sooner, I am very well versed on ways to help sleep.”

“Spence, I’ve literally done everything, it’s hopeless,” you laughed, “but I might take you up on your offer to recite those Pride and Prejudice pages for me.”

“That’ll be our last resort. Have you tried eating bananas, they contain-”

“Tryptophan. Yeah I only drank warm milk and ate bananas and cherries for three days straight, nothing, but is it possible to become lactose intolerant from drinking too much milk?”

“There are many studies on why raw milk doesn’t cause lactose intolerance, but for legal reasons, not much has been studied about processed milk and how the differences relate to lactose intolerance, but really to answer your question, lactose intolerance is caused because of the enzyme lactase which splits the-,” he stopped once he heard your giggling, “...and you were kidding. Y/n, I am trying to help here, what about herbal teas?”

“Tried, didn’t work.”

“Um...meditation?” You nodded, “What about lowering your apartment temperature?”

“I literally can only sleep in the cold,” he was about to interrupt but you already knew what was coming, “...and I already tried the opposite, raising the temperature, which sucked by the way.”

“This might sound a little strange, but what are the colors of your bedroom wall?”

“I already looked into the impact of cool versus warm colors on sleep, my walls are white and I have blue curtains, my lights are led, so they aren’t yellow, and I don’t use any electronics for an hour before I get in bed,”

“Then it’s not physical, it’s mental, you know talking about what’s bothering you helps. Compartmentalizing really doesn’t.”

“I haven’t been compartmentalizing though, I’ve even been journaling and stuff, even though I absolutely hate it.”

“Hmm,” he went quiet for a second, you opened your mouth to ask and he stopped you, “I’m thinking...,” it was like a lightbulb turned on over his head, “I got it what about-” He stopped.

“What?”

“It’s just...”

“What? Spencer? I’d literally try anything at this point.”

“Serotonin.”

“We’re not all super geniuses, please don’t make me ask,” you pleaded.

“Serotonin’s a monoamine neurotransmitter...um it’s a large contributer to feelings of well-being and happiness, but a study I read last week actually talked about how involved it is in the regulation of sleep...um it has sort of a calming effect when activated,” sounded like pure bliss to you.

“And how do I activate it?”

“Yes that’s the um...” he looked over at you before continuing his explanation, “...so the most effective way is through deep touch pressure, which is a form of tactile sensory input. It’s mostly provided by firm holding, firm stroking, hugging, and cuddling.”

“Oh,” it clicked in your head.

“It’s actually really interesting, if you think back to the times you’re most relaxed, or just times that are coined as relaxing in general. Spas have done really well with this in general, with the hot stone massages especially, the heat combined with the cool temperature of the spa, mixed with the weight of the stones, it mimics a beach so well, which also is coined for relaxation considering how the heat acts as a blanket in some pretenses. Being in your mother’s arms, cuddling with a significant other, all good examples of serotonin, which is why weighted blankets are so popular now, they mimic the feeling of being held, they mimic that deep touch pressure...,” you let him ramble on about weighted blankets while you thought about what he was actually talking about. You’d been thinking about the events that would occur if you and Spencer shared a bed for a night, and while you might’ve thought of more explicit things than cuddling, the thought of anything more than a hug with him made your heart race, “Are you still listening?”

“Sorry, I got,” you cleared your throat, “distracted.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“No it’s okay, it’s a good idea,” you stammered, wanting to slap yourself. You sounded way too excited, which you were, but that excitement was coated with nerves. It was silent for a minute before Spencer spoke up again.

“When Hailee first went missing, it had only been three days, so I asked you how you knew something was wrong, and you said you just knew. It’s like with baby cheetahs, baby cheetahs always know when there’s something wrong with their older siblings because they are their protectors, it’s their instinct, just like yours,” He turned to look into your eyes, and brought his voice down into a whisper, “You told me a story about how when you were younger and you’d get nightmares, instead of running into your mother’s room, which is the natural instinct, you’d run into Hailee’s room and she’d hold you instead. When I asked why, you said it was because she was a room closer, but I think it really was because of your independence. No matter how independent you were, you still needed someone, and no matter how independent you are now, you still crave that serotonin, you crave that physical touch. You’re human. It’s just like earlier today, I didn’t want to bring it up because I’m sure you feel embarrassed about crying during work, but it’s completely normal. We aren’t sociopaths like these people we go after, we have empathy, and it’s part of the reason we’re so good at our jobs. No matter how many gruesome cases we see, we aren’t robots, so we all sometimes just need a moment to break down and compose ourselves in an emotional release, it’s just another human necessity. It’s science. And you can replicate it with a weighted blanket when you’re alone, but when you get the opportunity, you really just need more physical touch, that’s all,” he reached over to rub your shoulder, and a tear fell onto your check.

“You’re right,” you sniffled.

“Oh no,” he chuckled, wiping your cheek with his thumb, “I made you cry again.”

“No,” you placed your hand on top of his on your face, “you’re just the sweetest person I’ve ever met.” He didn’t respond, just opened his arms, nodding with his head for you to come closer. You scooted over and nestled your head into his chest. He pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tight. His hand slowly made its way to your lower back, peeking under your tee-shirt to draw light circles on your bare skin. You were close to falling asleep when you felt warm lips touch your forehead, causing you to immediately snap back.

“Sorry,” he whispered. He must’ve felt you stiffen in his arms. You tilted your head back and looked up at him, placing your hand on his jawline as you connected your lips with his, softly and slowly. You were hesitant, knowing part of your action was based off of exhaustion, but you were just sick of having to look at his lips everyday and long for them to be on yours without doing anything about it.

“Goodnight Spencer,” you pulled away quickly, returning you head to its spot on your chest.

“Goodnight Y/n,” he whispered back a minute later, and his hand resumed his circular motion, lulling you to a full night of sleep for the first night in many, many days.

You woke up a little lower on the bed then you were when you fell asleep, and your position changed. Spencer was laying on his back, and you were on your side, one of his arms under your waist and resting on your stomach. You were facing the alarm clock and gasped when you saw the time. You sat up out of Spencer’s arm, completely dumbfounded. It was 6:00AM, and the last time you checked the clock it was 11:00, you hadn’t woken up once. You started to get up when you were pulled back onto the bed.

“Spencer it’s 6:00,” you whisper yelled, “I just slept for seven full hours.”

“Mmm, think you can sleep for one more,”he turned onto his side so your back was now pressed into his chest.

“Seven hours, wow, and it’s all thanks to this incredible guy I know. He’s like a super-genius who taught me the wonderful benefits of the magical enzyme called ‘serotonin’, have you heard of it?”

“He sounds like a great guy,” he grumbled into your neck, “I’m so very happy for you,” he pressed his lips to your neck, giving you goosebumps and reminding you of your impulsive decision from the night before, “but shhh.” It had been decided, groggy Spencer was your new favorite Spencer.

“Spence...” you had to talk about this. If you didn’t, the whole team would be able to read you the second you got on the jet.

“No. Sleep.”

“Spencer...”

“Okay, I’ve officially been awoken from my peaceful slumber,” you wiggled so you were now facing him.

“Hi,” you whispered. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled at you, “you have very pretty eyes, they’re like honey.”

“You’re nice when you’re sleepy,” his hands shifted again to your lower back, drifting under your shirt to stroke your skin once again.

“I’m nice all the time,” you pouted.

“You were extra nice last night,” turns out groggy Spencer and confident Spencer were the same person, you rotated your body so you weren’t facing him, “How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long have you felt this way about me?” This was not a good question for you.

“How many days did you say we’ve known each other?”

“210 counting today.”

“Then 210 days,” you sighed out, you’d liked him since the first day you’d met, it wasn’t love at first sight or anything, but from your first conversation, he’d been giving you butterflies, “I’m really sorry if I ruined things between us.”

“You’re kidding right?” You leaned up, and furrowed your eyebrows at him, “I just thought you didn’t feel that way. If I knew, I would’ve done something about it, or I would’ve gotten weirdly distant until you forced me to tell you what was wrong,” he smiled and your heart melted.

“What’re we gonna do about the team?”

“Derek’s gonna be relentless,” he sighed out and you giggled, “but we’ll figure it out, just not right now, because I’m cold, and I want your body heat.” He pulled you back into him.

“I have to shower,” you mumbled.

“You smell fine,” you gave him a look, “okay, okay, go.” He released you from his tight hold, not before you gave him a quick kiss, and you ran to the bathroom. You took a quick shower, then put on your makeup and got dressed. You both decided to eat on the plane instead of charging the bureau for room service. When you arrived on the plane you said quick hellos to the team and took a seat right across from Derek. You didn’t say anything when you sat down, you just opened your book. You looked up to see Derek’s eyes shifting back and forth between you and Spencer, who was playing chess with Rossi a couple seats away.

“Y/f/n Y/m/n Y/l/n,” you looked up from your book, “Did you get laid last night?”

“Oh my god Derek! I spent the night with Spencer,” you shut your book closed fast.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you look genuinely relaxed in over a month,” he whispered at you, “did you spend the night with pretty boy over there or did you spend the night with him? Because you didn’t hear this from me, but pretty boy’s got it bad for you.”

“Oh really?” He was right, pretty boy did in fact have it bad for you.

—

I was just really in the mood for some more Spencer fluff, if you liked this please check out Making A Move, it’s a lot shorter, but still cute.

Here’s my masterlist

Love you all!!!!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer imagine #spencer fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds spencer #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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nightspeckle · 3 years

Text

Jurdan Summer Au part 2

Description:

Cardan and Jude have been summering with each other since they were babies. They have spent every summer at the beach together but they have never been friends, until now.

Part 1

*****

Jude woke the next morning to the sounds of the ocean waves and seagulls squawking. The sun from the window was heating her already pink skin. She could hear her family from downstairs, they were what woke her up. Back home she would have been infuriated and yet at the beach house, she couldn’t care less.

When she looked over to Taryn’s bed it was already empty. Of course.

Downstairs Madoc and Vivi were eating breakfast in the kitchen. When Jude got closer she could hear them bickering again.

“Vivienne, how many times do I have to tell you to get a job?” Madoc was pushing his eggs around his plate in a menacing way.

Vivi just sighed “I have to work on my art portfolio if I have any chance of getting into the art school I want. I just don’t have enough time.”

Madoc went to open his mouth again and Jude decided to step in before it turned into the screaming match it had been for the past few weeks.

“Where’s Taryn?”

“Guess” Vivi supplied and Jude knew exactly where she was.

“Great,” Jude huffed while pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

When Jude sat down she saw Vivi was still in her PJs. “What are you doing today?”

Viv smiled apologetically at Jude, “I’m going to the studio in town to get started,”

Madoc cut Vivi a glance that reeked of disapproval before shifting his focus to Jude.

“Why don’t you come with me and Eldred, we’re going on a hike to dragonfly cove,” Madoc looked gleeful at the prospect of spending the day with his daughter.

Jude could think of a hundred things she would rather do than go hiking with two old dads.

Madoc could sense Jude's lack of desire and scrambled to entice her. “I’ll enforce a mandatory family dinner on Taryn tonight if you come,”

Jude knew that it wasn’t exactly very cool of her to want to force her sister to spend time with her. But it was only their second day at the beach and none of her work friends were out of school yet, so although it was selfish she didn't mind.

“Alright,” She mumbled. Madoc’s face turned giddy.

“Perfect we're leaving at 9:30, so hurry up,”

Jude looked at the clock on the stove to see it read 9:15 and just rolled her eyes before polishing off her cereal and heading up the stairs to go change. She just couldn’t wait for a hike with her dad and his old friend!

...

When Jude piled into the back of the jeep she didn’t expect to see another child who had been roped into this hike. Cardan had his head rested against the seat. He didn’t say anything as Jude climbed back into the seat.

When Madoc jumped into the passenger seat he cracked a smile at Cardan. “I see Eldred must have bribed you into joining too,”

“Bribed?” Eldred asked while he started up the jeep.

“I bribed Jude so she would come along, did you not?” Madoc asked.

“Of course not, I just made him,” Madoc looked at Eldred as if he was a genius. Jude just prayed Madoc wouldn’t get any ideas about forcing her into family bonding. That would not go over well.

The top of the jeep was off and Jude's ponytailed hair started to flutter around her. She had almost forgotten Cardan was there while she watched the world around her pass by.

“What did he bribe you with?” When Jude turned back to Cardan she could see a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. He had put an arm around the back of the seats and tilted to face her more.

Jude was immediately embarrassed as she had agreed to Madocs terms. She didn’t want anyone else knowing how she was using her dad to make her sister spend time with her.

When it was clear Jude was not going to spill Madoc piped up from the front. “I promised to make Taryn come home for dinner tonight,”

Jude slumped back into her seat with a sigh feeling defeated. She expected Cardan to comment on how pathetic that was but when she looked over at him he was smirking.

“I should probably thank you for that,” Cardan said playfully.

“It’s what friends do,” Jude jokes.

The smile Cardan sent her way was nothing like she had ever seen from him. He was looking at her like they truly were friends, like being able to smile together was normal.

Jude was starting to wonder why she had spent her childhood constantly writing him off. She had never liked how he disregarded her when they were younger. She had always felt that he thought that Jude and Taryn were beneath him.

But the way he was acting now made her question everything in the past. Maybe she was wrong about him.

Jude spent the rest of the drive to dragonfly cove with her fingers dangling out of the jeep. She spent her time getting distracted by the passing green trees and the feeling of the summer sun. The only thing that kept drawing her attention back to the car was the constant terrible sound of her father's and Eldred's voices singing along to their summer reggae playlist.

She couldn’t help herself but make eye contact with Cardan when both of their fathers voices cracked. Cardan laughed then, the sound filling Jude with a certain lightness. She couldn’t help but laugh herself.

Jude was having a much better time on her Dad's usually boring adventures. When Jude looked over at the black haired boy next to her she knew he played a larger role in it than she wanted to admit.

This was not good.

...

Dragonfly Cove was not a particularly popular place to hike. The reason for that being that there was one trail. It went from the parking lot down to the beach 50 feet below. The path to the cove event consisted of a set of wooden stairs with rails on both sides.

If you were to ask anyone outside of the Greenbriar and Duarte families they would say that Dragonfly Cove is not a place to hike. Instead, they would refer to it as a small beach that required a short walk to reach.

If you asked Madoc and Eldred they would tell you that Dragonfly Cove was the best place to hike out of anywhere in the area.

If you asked their children they would tell you that hiking at Dragonfly Cove was toeing death itself.

If after taking the path and stairs down to the beach, one were to travel to the end of the beach and climb over a massive rock they would be able to see the “hike” that Madoc and Eldred had taken their children on years prior.

The “hike” consisted of climbing up an extremely steep slope made of unstable rocks and ledges. There had been many close calls of falling in the past. Orianna had even forbidden Madoc to try and reach the top of the cliff ever again.

Now standing at the bottom of the cliff Jude was thinking that Madoc should listen to Orianna much more. She was certain looking up at the incline that she would face certain death.

Eldred and Madoc had already taken off. Surprisingly for their age, they seemed to have no problem scaling an unstable cliff.

“Afraid Jude?” The smug voice to her left startled her.

When she turned to look at Cardan she saw the amusement in his eyes.

“It seems even the fearless Jude herself is afraid,” He looked to be enjoying the way Jude was squirming at the idea of climbing up the cliff.

She kept having flashbacks to the time a rock had given way under Taryn's feet. Jude had had to lunge to grab her sister's arm before she could tumble all the way down.

“No need to worry Duarte, I’m sure we will be back down soon if you want to wait,” Cardan said with mock reassurance. Jude could tell by the look in his eyes that he was enjoying taunting her.

Cardan took off towards the rocky slope without looking back. Jude’s hesitance at hiking the steep slope disappeared the second Cardan had alluded to her inability to do so. Jude Duarte was not one to ever be bested. She would show him.

Jude spent the first half of the “hike” solely paying attention to her feet. She refused to make a misstep or stumble.

She could see how effortlessly Cardan was making his way up the incline above, she would not do worse than him.

By the second half Jude had mastered the art of scaling a steep incline. She was doing so well that she even passed a delighted Madoc and enthusiastic Eldred.

Jude's mood improved even more when she looked back to see Cardan a good distance behind her.

She couldn’t help herself when her foot slipped the tiniest bit. “Are you alright down there Cardan?”

Her smile grew when he sent her an annoyed look. “I’m sure your Dad would help you up the rest of the way if you want to wait,”

“I’m quite fine Duarte,”

Cardan had gotten closer to catching up to Jude as they continued but she didn’t mind. She had still made it up there first, which was all she cared about anyways.

The two of them stood at the top of the cliff looking out at the ocean quietly for a few minutes. They didn’t say anything to each other until they heard the telltale signs of their fathers down below.

They both looked down to see Madoc and Eldred huffing for air and stumbling on the rocky terrain. It was amusing to watch their overconfident fathers falter on the hike they claimed toddlers could do.

Jude watched Eldred slip on a rock and immediately looked to Cardan. When they made eye contact they couldn't help but burst out with laughter.

After waiting for Madoc and Eldred to catch their breath at the top they headed back down. Jude found the descent to be extremely easy in comparison and managed to beat everyone down to the bottom. Cardan was in her heels the whole time but that was a fact she would choose to omit if anyone asked.

Cardan continued to tease her (mainly about how she had walked into a pool of water without realizing) as they made their way back to the car. She had used to believe his teasing to be annoying and insufferable and now she couldn’t help but smile every time he had a snarky comment.

Jude was on the verge of pinching herself every ten minutes. She couldn't believe she was actually enjoying herself.

Madoc and Eldred decided it would be fun to go on an hour long drive by the coast. Something which Judge was surprisingly happy about.

They stopped on the way back at a farmers stand selling fresh fruit. Jude bought blueberries for Viv and a few peaches for herself and Taryn. Oak was in an anti-fruit faze at the moment. The discovery that tomatoes and olives were fruits sent him for a real loop.

Jude couldn’t help but laugh when Cardan’s peach was dripping all over his face and onto his shirt.

Jude’s own peach dripped all over her when she took a bite. The taste was worth the stickiness. It was even worth Cardan's growing amusement.

When they got closer and closer to the house Jude felt something strange deep within. It was a very small sliver of disappointment. One she was not happy to find. Was she disappointed she was going home? Or was it that her time hanging out with her dad, Eldred, and mainly Cardan was coming to an end?

Whatever the reason, she decided that ignoring it was the best course of action.

When they pulled into the driveway she got out slowly. Now that she was done with her bribed time with her father what would she do? Taryn was probably still not home, Vivi was busy, and none of her local work friends were out of school.

Whatever it was that she would do, she knew that it wouldn’t be as fun as this morning, that was something extremely surprising to her.

....

Jude ended up doing some summer reading outside on the porch for a bit. When Oak came home from wherever he had disappeared off to with Orianna she supervised him at the beach.

She actually did enjoy herself but it wasn’t until dinner that she was truly having fun again. The families were eating together outside again.

She ended up sitting next to Cardan and Viv who had come home 30 minutes before. Jude had a few moments where she caught herself smiling for no reason and laughing because of the dumbest things.

Dinners usually lasted for a few hours with the families in the summers. The parents would stay talking for longer than they would anywhere else. Jude who usually snuck out after 30 minutes to do something else ended up staying for a couple of hours. It wasn’t until Viv declared she was heading back that Jude did too.

“You look happier than you did yesterday,” Viv commented when they got back to their house.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jude said amused.

“You’re smiling more you weirdo,”

Jude had been smiling more than the day before. When she looked back on the day it had mainly been because of Cardan. But there was no way that he was the reason for her smiles. Maybe it was just because he was funny.

Was Cardan funny? Jude wasn’t so sure about that.

“Oh, whatever Viv,”

Vivian and Jude broke into the moose tracks ice cream and watched a movie before going to bed. When Jude crawled into her bed it was only 11:15 but she didn’t mind.

It was only when she was about to go to sleep that she noticed Taryn’s bed was empty. Not only was she not there but Jude realized she hadn’t even shown up to dinner.

The funny thing was that Jude didn’t even care.

~~~

tags (or my one LOL) :

@big-daddy-maddy

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nikrangdan · 3 years

Text

photographer!ni-ki

pairing: photographystudent!ni-ki x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, comedy

description: every time you went to the park you noticed a mysterious boy who would take pictures of the scenery on his cute little camera. you liked to see what he’d take pictures of from afar but one day you noticed his camera pointing straight at.. you

for ni-ki’s bday!!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE <33 sorry i posted a day late but i hope u all enjoy!

———

“y/n!”

you groan before getting out of your bed at 10am

it was a saturday why was your mom yelling at u ..

you walked into the kitchen all sluggishly and rubbed your eyes

“you need to start taking suki on walks to the park. you need the exercise too.” your mom doesn’t even spare u a glance before walking out the door to run some errands

right

u forgot u were taking care of ur cousins dog while he was out of town... her name was suki

shes a little shiba inu AND SHES THE CUTEST THING EVER!!!!

WELP

u dont even have a choice anymore

u got somewhat ready before heading out with suki in your arms

shes so soft and fluffy

though u dont like to admit it, u kinda agreed with ur mom about u needing to exercise and get out the house

you’ve been cooped up in your room for days with no social or nature interaction

the park was about a 10 minute drive from ur house

and it was actually a really pretty park...

there was a lake and really pretty flowers everywhere and alot of gazebos and benches

and a nice open field of greenery

it basically looked like a park out of a movie

so you weren’t suprised that there was a decent amount of people there

but not too much thankfully.. or else you would’ve driven to another park with less people

you got out the car with suki and put her on the leash

let the walking begin!!!!

it was a really nice day out... the sun was shining but it wasnt too hot or cold

you led her onto the sidewalk and she began sniffing at the grass around her

whenever a few people would pass they would coo at how adorable she was

it wasnt until 5 minutes later that ur eyes locked onto a figure infront of the lake

you were just walking with suki in silence.. admiring the scenery

until u caught sight of a boy

u could only see his back but u noticed the camera over his shoulder

he was standing in one of those photographer poses where like one leg is bent and kind of out while his back is hunched to get that perfect angle of a shot

he was infront of the sidewalk railings where the lake begins and he was taking photos of the scenery across from it

it was a beautiful sight honestly

there was another sidewalk but behind it was colorful trees and blossoming flowers and bushes

u understood why he’d take pictures of it

you didnt see his face but u kind of acknowledged the boy before walking past him with suki

basically thinking he was just another passerby that you noticed making a single appearance in your life and never expecting to see him again

OH BOY U WERE WRONG

the next time you see him is 3 days later at the same park

you were walking suki again but this time at 7pm after dinner

the sun was almost done setting so the sky was getting darker but there was still a hint of the orange circle peeking from below

this time you walked further down the sidewalk path towards the scattered gazebos

and you noticed the same boy again

this time he was sat in one of the gazebos with his tiny camera in his hands

his back was hunched over again and he was looking closely at the pictures he had taken

‘oh its him again’ u thought

and that was it

LOL

u just acknowledged him in ur head AGAIN before u thought nothing of it and continued ur walk with suki

so the NEXT time u saw him was another 2 days later at 7pm again

you wanted to take suki on a quick walk

but you got tired after like 10 minutes so you sat down on a blanket u brought

suki was just laying next to u while u were on ur phone

it wasnt fully dark out yet and there was still a few people in the park

the fairy lights that were placed around were lit up already

it was super pretty and the weather was nice

after staring at ur phone for a few mins u looked up just to look around

and u saw Him again

wow

why do u keep seeing him !?!?!

his back was faced towards u like always

and he was like 40 feet away from u so he looked so tiny

but u could tell it was him because of his blond hair and black coat he always wore

you kind of zoned out and unfortunately ur eyes were trained on his back without u even noticing

and he

turned

around

for the first time EVER!!!!

its like he sensed someone staring at him

but yes he turned around with his camera in his hand

the first thing u noticed was that he got a new camera

it was a larger black one

definitely more expensive

Awe good for him!!!!!

and then u glanced up to see his face

and u made EYE CONTACT

u looked away so fast

because

He was SO CUTE.............

u awkwardly started looking to your left and tried turning ur face away from him

‘oh look at those beautiful um... birds.. yeah’

hopefully he didnt notice

*nervously sweats*

u didnt dare look back in that direction so u spent the rest of your evening in the park on ur phone or playing with suki

eventually it reached 8pm so u packed up ur stuff and went home

U were still kind of thinking about that boy....

so u were like

i need to go back

and u did Lol

u went back the next day at 6pm this time with suki

it was lighter out and the sky was beautiful

perfect for a certain boy to be taking photos

*evil laugh*

u were walking for like 15 minutes and u didnt see him anywhere :((((

the one time u go there for HIM

u settled down under a tree

suki immediately went on the blanket when u sat down too

you played tug of war with her and fed her some treats while playing

playing with her for 10 minutes straight definitely tired u out so u laid down and just stared at the sky

it was a faded blue turning into orange and pink

U were kinda bored so u sat up and started petting suki

you would occasionally glance up at the strangers walking past u

and

let me tell u what Happened..

u looked up at another lady walking her dog and went like

‘aweee that dog is so cute’ in ur head

and u took ur eyes off the dog and glanced to ur right

idk bc u felt like it

AND GUESS WHAT U SEE???!??????

THE BOY

LIKE 20 FEET AWAY

STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FIELD

AND HE HAD HIS CAMERA UP TO HIS FACE

and it WAS POINTED AT U ??!?!

as soon as u looked in his direction he jumped and put his hands down

he like

Blushed????? and awkwardly smiled u know rubbing the neck and all that

he was embarrassed

ur cheeks were turning so red

BUT HE WAS SO ADORABLE

was kind of weird.... stalkerish but um

he cleared that up BECAUSE

He started walking over to u

he was wearing black jeans that were ripped on the knees with black high top converse

and a gray sweater with a black coat over it

HE JUST LOOKED CUTE OK

ur were like OMg []£{€]%[#{%€]£{

n he just Plop

he stood right infront of u basically towering bc u were sitting under the tree

suki noticed the boy and tilted her head like hmmmm???

u had the SMALLEST smile on ur face bc u wanted to seem friendly but not TOO friendly

he had his camera strap over his arm while he held it and his other hand was rubbing the name of his neck

“uh... sorry about that.. i didn’t mean to seem weird or anything!” he waved his hands infront of him to deny it

u just sat there while he talked like ❤️_❤️

“im uh taking photos for my class and i thought u looked nice so i took some pictures.. im really sorry i should’ve asked first now i seem weird or something im really-,”

u cut him off so he didnt ramble any longer

“no its okay! i get it” you gave him a warm smile and pet suki while she drifted to your side and kept her eyes on him

u both just stared at eachother for a few seconds before you spoke

“um.. would you like to sit?” you scooted over and made room for him in the blanket

WOW U WERE FEELING BOLD TODAY...

“uh sure” he set his camera down and sat beside u

“this is suki.. shes my cousins dog” u said when she climbed into his lap and started sniffing him

he grinned and pet her before looking up at you

“im ni-ki by the way” his cheeks turned a bit pink which u thought was cute

“y/n” you smiled

“suki seems to like you” u laughed

“so how long have you been working on this project or whatever?”

“oh um i started last week... i just have to make a portfolio of photos i take and turn it in” he said while keeping his eyes trained on suki

u noticed he didnt make eye contact with u often but u knew it was probably because he was nervous because u do that too

“can i see the pictures...?” u hesitantly ask him

his eyes light up when u say that

“yeah!”

AWE HES SO EXCITED

he picks up his camera next to him and clicks a few buttons

“oh by the way... ive noticed u at the park before! you’re always with the camera” you laugh

“ah yeah, this park is where most of my project photos are taken.”

he leans over and shows you the pictures on the device

“woah” you let out a gasp

he showed u the picture he took of you first

How does a picture look better than real life...

you’ve never really been into photography but now that you’ve seen his work u might just have to start getting into it

“this isnt even done yet, i still have to edit it so it’ll look even more perfect” he shyly says

“this is amazing what the heck” your jaw is Dropped

“thanks”

“i need to see the final result” u said because it was such a nice picture

“um.. if you give me your number i can show you it” he sent you a cheeky grin

SMOOTH.....

he was so AGGGHGGHG ur kind of obsessed

you two exchange numbers and talk about random things for a whole hour until he says he has to go

“it was really nice meeting you.. i had fun” he tells you as he starts standing up

suki is sleeping so he tries not to wake her up

“i had fun too” you smile

“would you like me to walk you to your car?”

A GENTLEMAN !!?!?!?!

“oh yeah, thanks”

you two spend another 2 minutes together as you walk side by side with suki in your arms and he held your blanket and bag for you

you reached your car and thanked him

“ill see you soon, dont forget to text me! and good luck on the project, i know you’ll do great”

“thank you..”

ni-ki’s cheeks turn pink once more before he turns around and starts walking away with a smile on his face

he is just the cutest thing ever

you definitely need to see him again

194 notes · View notes

ravennm84 · 4 years

Text

Career Advice

Hi everyone!! This story was inspired by a news anchor that I saw on TV, and thought to myself “what would happen if Alya asked that woman for an internship and showed that woman the Ladyblog.” There wasn’t originally going to be Alya redemption, but I decided that the girl needed some love too. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

Alya was practically vibrating in her chair as she sat in the reception area of TVi News. She had heard from Aurora and Mireille that there was a summer internship opening and that she should submit an application. She had spent an entire week working on her resume with her mom’s help, citing her blog as experience. Her mother had told her that she might want to double check all her stories before going in, but already knew that she’d be fine. After all, she was an awesome reporter.

There were four other people in the room with her, and she was definitely the youngest. Two of them looked like they were university age and the other two probably attended lycee. That meant that they likely had a bit more experience than she did, but Alya was confident that her blog would set her up for the win. Not only that, Lila had put in a good word for her with the higher ups of TVi News. All she had to do was nail the interview and the internship was hers!

It was about an hour and two interviews before her turn came. Holding her head high; she grabbed her tablet and portfolio, straightened her skirt, and walked in as smoothly as she could in her heels.

The person conducting the interview was Claudia Ramonte, a no-nonsense kind of woman that always seemed to be on a deadline. She preferred people always be on-point and despised people that wasted her time. She was a legend in the industry, she had been an investigative journalist for over 20 years before going into semi-retirement by helping run the company and hiring new journalists. It was said that she had an eye for who had talent and who was just playing journalist. And if you fell into the latter or made the mistake of insulting her craft, you could kiss any hopes of making it big in the industry goodbye. So as soon as Alya shut the door behind her, she put on her most professional smile and extended her hand to her.

“Mme. Ramonte, Alya Cesaire, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She gave her a slight smile as she shook her hand. “When I saw that a kid in college was applying for the internship, I thought that you were either an idiot or you had a pair of steel balls. Show me which one it is.”

A little taken back but her forwardness, Alya’s hand shook slightly as she pulled her resume from the file and handed it to her. “As you can see, I’ve been running my blog, The Ladyblog, for close to a year and a half now.”

“Everyone and their mothers have blogs nowadays, Cesaire.” The woman scoffed as she tossed Alya’s resume onto her desk and turned to her computer, typing quickly. “Every candidate I’m interviewing today has at least two blogs, multiple news articles in their school newspapers, or videos from their college news or radio stations. What is it about your blog that makes you think that you are more qualified than any of them?”

Alya faltered for a second but wouldn’t be deterred, she was an awesome reporter and she would get this internship. “I’ve conducted multiple interviews with different celebrities; including Ladybug herself, other heroes of the Miraculous Team, the daughter of a diplomat who is also Ladybug’s best friend…”

“So have others, Cesaire.” She sounded bored, as she continued reading something on her computer screen.

Squaring her shoulders, Alya kept going. She refused to back down when she was so close to her internship. “I have also done extensive work on recording akuma battles and have compared my footage to other sites. None of them get as close or in depth as I do.”

“And why do you think that is, Mlle. Cesaire?” Her voice going cold

Alya blinked, not expecting the question. “Um… well-”

“Reporters and journalists are not to engage in dangerous situations that are considered life threatening. Whether someone is part of a staff or freelance, they are not to enter danger zones on their own, which you have apparently done numerous times. I will admit that when it comes to journalism, it is never without risks; but no story is worth your life.”

“But there’s no real danger, Ladybug always-”

“A terrorist is a terrorist, Cesaire.” The chill in the woman’s voice gained a hard edge. “And the attacks that have been done by the akumas have, on more than one occasion, shown the potential to be fatal. Should there be even a single time that Ladybug and Chat Noir not pull through, that could result in thousands of deaths. If you think that any credible news source would allow their people to do what you’ve been doing; then you’re more than an idiot, you’re a reckless idiot.”

Then she turned one of her computer screens towards Alya, which was queued up to the Ladyblog. “And from what I’ve seen from your blog in the two minutes you’ve been in my office; you are not only reckless, but mediocre in your work as a journalist. I have looked through multiple posts and have yet to see a single credible source mentioned. So tell me, how can you think that you are qualified to work here if you cannot follow the most basic rule of journalism and check your sources?”

“I can assure you, everything I post is completely true!”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word on that? Hardly.” She turned the screen back to herself, then started playing the first interview she had done with Lila. Mme. Ramonte played it for only 15 seconds, in which Lila claimed to be Ladybug’s best friend after she had saved her life, before pausing the video and looking at Alya. “If Lila Rossi, the daughter of a diplomat, had been saved by Ladybug, there would have been multiple articles and recordings of the incident. I just did a cursory search and the only link that came up connecting Rossi and Ladybug is your own blog.”

Alya was speechless. She wanted to say that Lila was telling the truth, but what reason would there be for Mme. Ramonte, who continued playing Lila’s interview, to lie? She stopped the video again a few seconds later, after the tale of saving Jagged Stone’s kitten from being run over by a plane on an airport runway. The look the legendary journalist gave her was that of total disgust and anger.

“Do I even need to list all the things wrong with

this story?” When Alya didn’t say anything, Mme. Ramonte went off on her, practically ranting. “Firstly, Jagged Stone has been quoted multiple times as being allergic to animal fur, and would not own a cat. Second, no one would allow a minor onto a airport runway, as it would be seen negligence and possibly as an act of terrorism. Even if she had saved some cat from being run over and Jagged had been grateful, no self respecting musician would write a song about a minor that was not their daughter, as doing so could have him labeled as a pedophile. You are very lucky that M. Stone has not seen this interview, because if he had, you would have been served with lawsuits for slander. So, I’ll ask again. Is there anything to keep me from saying that you are nothing more than a wannabe-journalist that isn’t fit to work at a news stand?”

She wasn’t even sure how to respond. Alya had been so sure that her blog was perfect, but after what Mme. Ramonte had said and how she was looking at her, she really did feel like an idiot for believing what Lila had said. Especially since she should have known better.

She now remembered when she flew to Spain with her parents when she was younger and how far away the landing strip was from the airport. There was no way Lila would have been able to see a kitten from that far away. Alya also remembered how she wanted to go outside and play, but her father told her that only authorized personnel were allowed outside at the airport. Then there was Marinette, the designer had mentioned how she couldn’t do certain designs for the rock star because he had fur allergies from when he was a kid.

Oh no, Marinette has been saying for months that Lila was a liar. Ever since she had seen Lila’s interview. And since she designs for Jagged Stone, she would know that Lila was nothing but a liar. She was also the one that got me my first exclusive with Ladybug, so she’d probably know that she was lying about that, too. And I had the nerve to tell her that she was just being jealous… I’m a terrible friend and an even worse journalist.

Looking back up at Mme. Ramonte, she was barely able to hold back tears as she shook her head. “No, Madame. There is no excuse for such shoddy journalism, it doesn’t even deserve to be called that. I apologize for wasting your time.”

The woman’s features softened slightly, but not by much. “You’re still very young and have a lot to learn about journalism, Cesaire. If I ever see you in my office again, I’ll expect more from you than any other candidate. That means looking out for your safety, knowing what is okay and not okay to publish, and checking your stories through multiple, reliable sources. I would also recommend killing your blog and starting new, the Ladyblog will become toxic to your career if it continues. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Alya couldn’t help but stare at the woman across the desk from her. Despite not deserving it, Mme. Ramonte had given her very sage and constructive advice that just might save her career in the long run. If she killed her blog now, started a new one or two, and followed her advice; by the time she finished lycee, she might be able to use them as proper references for her future career.

“Thank you, Mme. Ramonte. I won’t forget this.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Cesaire,” she waved her hand dismissively. “I’m going to remember this and I will be telling other news sources about your blog as well, to make sure you never repeat these mistakes again. So, if you are really set on being a journalist, don’t just prove it to me, prove to everyone that you are better.”

“Still, thank you. Have a nice day, Mme. Ramonte.” Alya stood from her chair but paused before she turned to walk away. “So you know, I think I’ll be doing one final post on the Ladyblog, to admit my mistakes and all the things I reported incorrectly on my blog, along with the sources to back it up. Sort of a final expose to rid myself of the bad energy from my blog, so I’ll be able to move forward.”

The woman gave a nod of approval. Before waving her out of the office.

Alya kept her head high the entire way out of the building while doing her best to remain calm, or else risk attracting an akuma. As a bit of a cleanser, she sent a text to Marinette.

To FashionGurl: You were right about Lila. I’m so sorry for not listening to you. Can we talk on Monday?

A few minutes later, she got a text back.

To FoxyJournalist: You can come by today if you want to talk.

To FashionGurl: Sorry, I’m going to be busy. I have a new story to write about that liar, one that will have multiple sources, showing everyone exactly the kind of person she is.

To FoxyJournalist: Can’t wait to read it!!

~oOo~

What followed for Alya was a very long weekend writing out every story/lie that Lila had ever told her and the class, research into Lila’s old schools, staking herself out in front of the Italian Embassy until Ambassador Rossi came out so she could introduce herself, and then a long conversation at a cafe with the very angry and distraught mother. There were a lot of questions, show-and-tell with the videos on Alya’s blog and news reports from Lila’s old schools, and then the recommendation that she go to speak with M. Damocles and Mme. Bustier.

Monday morning saw Alya going into the bakery before school, telling Tom and Sabine the truth about Lila, and then grovelling at Marinette’s feet for being such a terrible friend. One thing she did not hesitate to show the Dupain-Chengs were the records and news reports she’d found pertaining to Lila’s old schools. Tracking Lila’s social media, Alya had found three schools and discovered the kind of mayhem the girl left behind.

One school had a perfect student named Gaia, much like Marinette, bullied until she was expelled. Another school showed another popular girl named Alessia had “fallen” down a flight of stairs and broken both of her legs, a few ribs, and one of her arms. Even though there were multiple eyewitness reports that Lila had pushed her, the Italian girl moved before she could be brought up on charges. The report from the most recent school made all of them sick. A girl named Ludovica had been stalked, harassed, and bullied over social media beginning the day Lila joined the school until the day the girl committed suicide. A quick backtrace on the account showed that it had been set up by Lila Rossi.

It was quickly decided that Sabine would be going to the school to have a word with the principal and teacher. Alya gave them a thumb drive with a copy of all the information she had found, she had multiple copies, so that if they decided to pursue legal actions, they had evidence to back it up.

At school, Alya went to class while Sabine took Marinette M. Damocles' office to speak with him and Mme. Bustier, since the woman was decidedly absent from the room. She had barely sat down when Lila entered the classroom, spouting off some story about meeting Ryan Reynolds over the weekend. Alya barely suppressed her snide grimace before hiding it with a smile.

“Really, Lila? That’s amazing! Did you get any pictures? I would love to post them on my blog?”

Now that she was watching, she saw the girl flinch when asked for actual evidence before putting on a sugary sweet smile. “I didn’t get a chance, my phone died.”

“Oh that’s annoying. Where did you see him?” She asked, pulling up the movie star’s Twitter account. “Because you were here in Paris over the weekend but according to his social media, he was visiting his home town in Canada this week.”

Alya definitely saw the girl scowl that time. “Oh, he just said that so he could come here without anyone knowing. He’s researching a role here in Paris and I was showing him around until my mom called me home.”

“Didn’t you just say that your phone was dead?” That got the classes’ attention, as they had just heard the girl say that was the reason she hadn’t taken any pictures. Lila was about to spout some new excuse; but Alya, who was now channelling her inner Mme. Ramonte, raised a hand to cut her off.

“Don’t even bother coming up with another lie. I know you’re full of crap and it spills out of your mouth with every word you say. And before you try to accuse me of lying, taking Marinette’s side, or bullying you; I think you should know that I spent the majority of the weekend looking into everything you’ve told us.”

The entire class watched the Italian girl’s olive skin turn a sickly white. But Alya wasn’t finished, this girl had been attempting to do the same to Marinette that she had done to Gaia, Alessia, and Ludovica. And as her BFF, she was not going to stand aside and let that happen. “I have piles of evidence that you were never in Achu and have never met Prince Ali, you were just playing hookie. I’ve got evidence that you are perfectly healthy and have never suffered from any of the diseases or ailments that you’ve claimed to have since returning to school. I’ve also got evidence that you have never met any of the celebrities that you claim to know. That includes Ladybug.”

Not so surprising, Lila attempted to turn everyone against Alya by turning on the tears. “That’s not true! I would never lie about all of that. You’re just saying that because you’re mad at me for not getting the internship!”

When the class looked back at Alya, they were surprised to see her grinning like a fox. “Did I forget to mention exactly how I know you weren’t in Achu? Or how I know you're perfectly healthy and don’t know any of those celebrities you’ve claimed to be close to?”

She paused, mostly for effect before going in for the killing blow. “Your mom and I had a very in depth conversation yesterday when I ran into her outside the embassy. She wasn’t happy about your interviews on the Ladyblog, and she was confused as to why you were claiming to be Ladybug’s BFF when you’ve been telling her for months that she and Chat Noir were a couple of lazy, incompetent, and downright terrible heros; which was why the school was closed.”

If it were possible Lila paled even more before turning to run out the door. The door swung open just as she was reaching for the handle, and was met with an upset Mme. Bustier. “You are needed in the Principal's Office, young lady.” To the surprise of everyone there, Lila attempted to shove her way past their teacher. But the woman was faster and grabbed the girl by the arm in a firm grip before escorting her out of the room.

When the first bell rang a few minutes later, M. Harpele came in to act as the substitute until Mme. Bustier was finished with her meeting.

Marinette returned to class before their teacher did, smiling bright as the sun and visibly more relaxed than anyone had seen her in weeks. She sat down beside Alya and gave her a tight hug while whispering “thank you” over and over.

“I take it things went well for you instead of Lila?” Alya grinned.

Marinette giggled. “She tried convincing her mom that all of us were akumatized and were trying to ruin her life, but she wasn’t buying it. Especially when M. Damocles showed Mme. Rossi her school records. Mom demanded that Lila give a formal apology and confess everything to the class, or she would get the Board of Governors involved. When Mme. Rossi found out that Lila tried to get me expelled, she lost it and started talking about a catholic reformatory school in Italy. Lila looked like she was going to be sick when she heard that.”

“It’s not perfect, but it’s what she deserves.” Alya shrugged before looking Marinette in the eye again. “I’m really sorry, girl. You’re my BFF, I should have listened to you when you told me Lila was a liar.”

“No, I don’t expect you to listen to me every time. I just wanted you to check things out and make sure that you weren’t being taken advantage of.” Then her brow creased. “I’m curious, what brought all this on?”

“Let’s just say that I just got some much needed career advice.”

#alya redemption #lila salt #ml fic #lila karma #friendship #alya salt

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prayedtoyou · 4 years

Text

overrated - read it on ao3

<< when you get home, will you help me with a project?

>> sure thing. i have to stop by the gas station on my way back, want anything?

<< yeah, grab me some of those chocolate covered raisins that i like

>> you got it. see you in 15

Dean had plans to go home after his three classes of the day to watch Netflix with his hand in his pants and eat pepper jack Cheez-Its until his stomach hurt, but he supposes it wouldn’t hurt to cancel those plans to help out his roommate for a few hours. Dean doesn’t often interrupt plans with himself, especially on a day where he doesn’t have any homework and he doesn’t have to show up for a shift at the salvage yard, but Cas is someone Dean doesn’t mind giving up a few luxuries for.

Dean met Cas in their Design 101 class during freshman year. It was nothing more than a foundation class, one that Dean and Cas had to take in pursuit of their BFA degrees in film and television, and photography, respectively. Dean expected to jack off to the course by flirting with the fellow classmates while still paying just enough attention to pass the class and turn in projects and assignments on time, but when Cas started sitting next to him in the third week of the semester and heckled him about listening to the professor and taking better notes, Dean really started to buckle down and take it a little more seriously.

They’ve been friends ever since. They had late night study sessions during their first year when they were only an elevator ride away from each other’s dorm rooms. Their first college summer was mostly spent at the Biggerson’s just off SCAD’s campus where Cas served tables; Dean would come in to bother him, drink coffee, and take advantage of the free WiFi. They found an apartment they could barely afford just south of the metro area and moved in a week before the new school year started. They still have that same apartment.

This was to Charlie’s disappointment, at first. She had suggested moving in together before Cas had and Dean had been on the fence about it. He loved Charlie, they got along, she understood his nerdy references, they had similar taste in women--but he had been holding out for another photography major to make his move. She quickly forgave him when she met and later moved in with her girlfriend, Dorothy.

There was just something about Cas that set him apart from Dean’s other friends. It might have to do with how passionate Cas was about his classes and major; since sixth grade, he’s known that he would grow up to be a photographer for National Geographic so he could travel the world and take pictures of all his favorite creatures. Or it might have to do with his sense of humor--a little dark and always just flirtatious enough to make Dean wonder just how serious he is and whether or not he should laugh or take him up on his offers.

More than likely, though, it has to do with how attractive he is, how his smile is so bright it puts the sun to shame, how his laugh makes Dean’s heart swell up like a helium balloon, how he’s intelligent and eloquent, but also absolutely clueless about a lot of stuff Dean considers to be required life knowledge. Does most of that knowledge revolve around Star Wars, Back to the Future, and Indiana Jones movie references? Yes, but that’s beside the point.

And that’s what led Dean to living with the guy for going on three years, to spending entire days dedicated to showing Cas his favorite movies and shows, to picking up dark chocolate Raisinets on his way home from school, to walking into their apartment and calling out Cas’s name just like Ricky Ricardo.

Cas shouts back from the opposite side of the apartment where their bedrooms are. Dean finds Cas in his room, furniture pushed away from one wall and replaced with Cas’s favorite reading chair from the living room (that old, forest-green armchair that Cas found at an antique store on the Savannah River that Dean verbally hated, but secretly used when Cas wasn’t around because it’s about the most comfortable thing in the world), and a camera set up on a tripod facing the chair. Cas is wearing that white button down that looks especially good against the tan he got over the summer, the one that matches Dean’s after they spent several long days on Tybee Island right before their senior year started.

“So, what’s the project?” Dean asks, handing over the box of Raisinets. He curses at himself for forgetting to get a snack of his own while he was out.

Cas takes the box with a smile. “Thanks, Dean. This one is based on touch and what emotions it brings out in us, but we can’t have more than one subject in the shot. So, I need you to put this on.” Cas reaches out and drops a small black object into Dean’s palm.

It’s… a tube of lipstick.

“Uh, Cas? I thought we’ve established that I’m not really much of a model.”

Cas rolls his eyes, no doubt remembering the arguments they had on the river walk during their second year when Cas tried to shoot Dean for an assignment that ended up with them deciding that Dean would stick with filming and Cas would recruit performing arts majors to be his models. “I know, I'm not taking pictures of you, you’re taking pictures of me. I already have the camera focused and everything, you just need to put that on, give me a few kisses, and snap some pictures.”

Dean’s brain short-circuits. “K-kisses?”

“Yeah. I’m using lipstick kisses to represent my past relationships and how I feel about them touching me. Just cheek and forehead kisses. We’re not going to be Frenching or anything.”

“Oh.” Dean looks down at the lipstick, caught somewhere between disappointment and relief, wondering if it would be better or worse if these kisses were meant for Cas’s lips instead of the rest of his face. Would it even be right of him to take Cas up on this offer when he already fantasizes about putting kisses all over Cas’s skin? Would it be wrong for their first kisses to be over some project? “I don’t know how I feel about this, Cas.”

“About what, kissing me? They’re not even real kisses, you just have to pucker up like you're kissing your mom.”

Dean chews on his lip. Would it be so bad to take advantage of the situation and indulge in something he’s wanted since their second semester together? Shouldn’t he be a good friend and roommate and help Cas with his project, no matter the requirements?

Cas must see the uncertainty in Dean’s expression because he continues with, “Come on, Dean, we’re graduating next semester, we’re practically professionals. Are you really going to be embarrassed about a little lipstick when you could be filming HBO sex scenes a year from now?”

Dean looks back up at Cas. If he’s going to insist, who is Dean to tell him no? “Alright, asshole, I’ll do it. But you owe me.”

Cas smiles wide and, damn, Dean would wear lipstick every day if it meant Cas would look at him like that. “Okay, there’s a mirror behind you. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just put some on and lay it on me.”

Dean turns to find Cas’s mirror hung up with his portfolio. Photos are hung, tacked, and taped up from vacations, day trips, school projects, and family holidays. Dean is up there a few times: laughing on the opposite side of the table from Cas at Biggerson’s, a selfie of the two of them under the unflattering flash of a smartphone in a dark movie theater, the only good shot Cas got of Dean that day on the river walk, Dean asleep on the couch with a book folded up in his arms like a teddy bear.

Dean didn’t even know Cas took that last one.

He puts on the lipstick, ignoring the photos of himself. It’s definitely not as easy as he thought it would be--staying inside the lines was something he’s improved upon since childhood, but crayons are a lot different from makeup. He manages to swipe the color onto his face, grimacing at the taste of it.

When he looks back at Cas, all he gets is a blank stare and a slight nod. Feeling less than confident with deep red lips, Dean steps up to the plate.

“Where do you want it?”

Dean can hear the click of Cas’s throat as he swallows. He raises a hand, pointing to the knob of his left cheekbone.

“Here.”

Dean steps just a little closer. Cas is about his height, maybe an inch shorter, but it’s not even noticeable when Dean tilts Cas’s face up with a finger and thumb gently pinching his chin. He leans in and--smells Cas’s shampoo, notices the pores on his nose, finds trimmed whiskers along his cheeks--presses his lips right where Cas wanted them.

With the lipstick, Dean can’t taste Cas’s skin, but he can smell the face wash where his nose is sticking into Cas’s temple. Like pomegranates.

When he pulls away, he knows he’s blushing, but he has no way of hiding it, so he just smiles and says, “That’s a good color for you.”

Cas, a little pink himself, scoffs. “Just take the picture, Taylor Swift.”

Cas takes his seat, Dean steps behind the camera. He clicks the shutter button a few times, watching Cas’s face on the screen. He’s leaning his face up and slightly away, lips parted, eyes cast toward the door instead of the lense. It’s a great angle to show off that jawline of his.

Dean was never destined to be a model, but Cas looks just as good in photos as he does in real life. He knows exactly how to position himself, which light to use, how his face should look. He could model, if he ever wanted. Dean asked him if he would star in a short film Dean had to film, but Cas just laughed and said if he wanted to act he would have gone into performing arts.

“That should be enough,” Cas notes, and Dean realizes that he had taken way too many photos while thinking about Cas’s face. He backs away from the camera. “I’ll need a fresh layer for each kiss, so apply some more lipstick.”

Dean does as he’s told and goes back to Cas to kiss him again. This time it’s just above Cas’s right eyebrow. They go on like this a handful more times, until Cas has lipstick stains across his entire face. Each time feels like the first, and Dean has a harder and harder time removing his lips from Cas’s skin as they progress through the photos. Cas doesn’t seem to be as phased--he sits right down and assumes his pose. In each and every picture, Cas mostly just looks sad.

“Why do you look like that?” Dean finally asks after the sixth kiss, snapping pictures.

Cas unfurrows his brow and looks up from the floor. “Like what?”

“Like your dog just died.”

Cas cracks a small smile. “These kisses represent each of my exes and how I felt about my relationships with them.”

“They were all that bad?”

“They certainly weren’t good. After being cheated on, left for someone else, and dumped over text, I don’t exactly have fond memories of most of these people.”

“I remember when that dickhead Balth slept with that web designer. You didn’t leave the house for a week.”

“You took me to the Atlanta Aquarium and pointed at all the ugliest fish and said they looked like him.”

“And I was right. ”

When Cas smiles broadly, Dean sneaks in another picture. The shutter of the lense gives him away, but Cas doesn’t mention it.

“Remember when I watched 500 Days of Summer eight times in two days?” Cas asks. “That’s because Hannah kept telling me she didn’t want a relationship and ended up leaving me for someone who she got engaged to after five months.”

Dean chuckles low under his breath. “Yeah, I remember. I had to force you into the shower and then we went out for burgers.”

“And when Gadreel drunk texted me all the things he hated about me--”

“We toilet papered his frat house and went to a baseball game the next day. We got so sunburnt.”

Cas laughs at the memory and Dean captures it with the camera. He looks so much better like this, happy and covered in kisses from someone who actually cares about him. He deserves to be this happy for the rest of his life.

Cas sobers up and looks at Dean. His expression is soft, something closer to adoration than anything else. Dean wonders if he’s just amused by the makeup.

“You were always there for me, Dean.”

Since Dean can’t take a compliment to save his life, he shrugs it off. “I was just trying to be a good friend. You did the same for me when Lisa and I broke up.”

They go quiet for a moment. Dean reflects back on the two weeks after their break up. Dean was drinking daily, taking whiskey in a travel mug to his classes, going to bars at night, falling asleep on the couch with a bottle in his hands. It took Cas several tries to get him out of his rut, first by asking Dean what was wrong, then by requesting that he eat something solid, and finally by whacking him with his rolled up yoga mat until Dean cleaned himself up and changed into some fresh clothes.

Dean had grumbled about it for a few days, but it was just what he needed. He couldn’t mope around forever and fall into a pit of alcoholism just because his year-long girlfriend finally got fed up with his shit. Cas spent extra time with him that month, changing his schedule and cancelling plans to hang out or do homework in the same room as him, occasionally reaching out to lay a hand on Dean’s shoulder or knocking their feet together to remind him that he wasn’t alone. It helped tremendously.

The worst part wasn’t losing Lisa, it was coming to terms with everything he had been trying to deny since he was seventeen. His attraction to men was something he first noticed when a new kid came to his high school and he fell for the linebacker build and honey-sweet Cajun accent. But after dating women exclusively his whole life, the last thing he wanted was for Cas to feel like some sort of experiment.

“What happened? With Lisa. You never told me.”

Cas catches his eye, but Dean directs his gaze away quickly, suddenly finding the curves of the camera very interesting.

“I, um… I wasn’t very good to her. I was kind of using her to get past a crush I had on someone, but it didn’t go away and she said she couldn’t keep living like that. Like she was competing to be my girlfriend. I don’t blame her one bit, she was right to leave me. I just thought, if it was just a crush, it wouldn’t be a problem once I was with someone else, but when I couldn’t stop liking them…”

Dean chances a look at Cas, who looks just as sad as he had in those pictures. His eyes are wide and it almost looks comical with all the lipstick kisses on his face.

“I realized it was more than just some crush,” Dean finishes lamely.

Every part of him wants to tell Cas. But what would be the point? The two of them will graduate and Cas will become the next most famous National Geographic photographer and Dean will be looking for work as a camera holder on low budget movies and shows that may or may not be cancelled halfway through filming. He could always turn to porn as a last resort, but he'll never make it as far as Cas and he’ll never make it with Cas.

In the beginning, he didn’t want to ruin their relationship. They worked well together, whether it was study sessions or getting back at exes or picking out mismatching furniture at second-hand stores. He worried about losing his friend. Now he doesn’t want to say anything because he knows he’s going to lose Cas one way or another, and it will hurt less if they don’t get involved with each other any more than they already are.

Cas takes a deep breath, processing the information. He searches the room. His eyes land back on the camera.

“I have one more shot to get.”

Dean blinks. It’s what he expected. It wouldn’t matter if Dean subtly tried to imply how in love he is with Cas or if he bluntly told him, he would always get the cold shoulder. It’s for the best, he tries to convince himself. Any other way would just end in a bigger heartbreak than necessary.

He turns back to the mirror. He finds the photo of him and Cas in the movie theater again. He can’t remember what movie they saw, but their faces are nearly touching and Dean’s arm is around Cas and he wishes more than anything that he’d taken the chance to kiss him back then. Because, what’s the quote? ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Does it count when Dean is, technically, in love, but just hasn’t voiced it yet?

With a new coat of lipstick, he faces Cas again. He’s standing in the middle of the room, right next to the camera, ready for his last kiss. Dean musters up all his fake confidence and closes the distance between them, standing just a little closer than he had before.

“And this time?” Dean asks.

Cas looks hesitant. Maybe he’s finally realizing that he should have chosen someone else to kiss him over and over again. Someone who he wouldn’t have to awkwardly live with afterwards. Someone who wouldn’t have made a straightforward project into something uncomfortable.

His hand comes up to his face. He points a single finger to his bottom lip.

“Here.”

Dean’s breath catches in his throat. He hunts for any sort of lie in Cas’s eyes, any indication that he didn’t want it, that he wanted to take it back. But Cas just looks right back at him, waiting, patient.

Dean fits the corner of Cas’s jaw into the center of his palm, runs his thumb across Cas’s cheek. A lipstick kiss smears under the pad of his finger, wiping into nothing but a blur, just like the memory of whichever lover that one was meant to be.

When their lips meet, Dean forgets about every single reason he didn’t let himself have this before. Everything in his head melts away until there’s just Cas and mouth and hands and Cas and Cas and Cas.

Cas doesn’t hold back. He grips Dean’s waist like a life raft in the middle of the ocean, opens his mouth and moans when Dean slips his tongue in. He takes everything Dean gives him. He moves his head aside when Dean trails his mouth along his jaw and down his neck, kissing and sucking and nipping at the skin. Dean pulls him closer, desperate to feel as much of Cas as he possibly can.

Dean feels like he’s shaking, or maybe vibrating, with need. Everything is tilting, moving, wavering around him. The lights could blow and he wouldn't even notice, he’s too wrapped up, too confused about which way is left or right.

Their mouths come together again and the world straightens out on its axis. They slow down, brushing their lips together the way pages of a book slide against one another. They take their time. They learn the way they move with each other.

Eventually, they part. Not to gasp for breath, but to rest their foreheads together; to align their hearts. Between them, Dean can smell Cas’s toothpaste and taste the lipstick.

“We should do projects together more often,” Dean concludes humorlessly.

“I think we should skip the projects and just make out,” Cas counters.

Dean pulls back to laugh quietly at Cas, but then sees his face. Cas is covered in lipstick, all around his mouth, his chin, across his jaw, down his neck. The makeup follows the patterns of Dean’s kisses, right down to where he had sucked Cas’s earlobe into his mouth.

He lets loose, practically wheezing at the state of Cas’s face. Dean’s must look similar, because Cas erupts into laughter too and they both sink into each other, bodies convulsing in their arms.

“Come on, come on. One more picture,” Cas begs, pulling out of Dean’s grasp and positioning himself on the chair. He couldn't wipe that smile off his face if he tried, and it looks like he isn’t putting in any effort at all to push it away.

Dean presses the shutter button three times, hoping at least one of them is a good shot, before diving around the camera to pull Cas into his embrace again.

The lipstick ends up on chests, wrist, bed sheets, and hips, but they don’t mind. They might even keep the tube for another time.

tags below the cut!

#destiel #fanfic #my work #destiel college au

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choicesficwriterscreations · 3 years

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350 Followers: Meet The Writer

Welcome to 350 Followers Meet The Writer! Like we mentioned last week, the number of followers increased really fast because many of you joined us during our first event, which is why we’re having two Q&A in such short period of time. Again, we’re truly grateful for you all joined us.

Anyway, this fanfic author is part of the fandom for quite some time and we’re proud to introduce her to the newbies of Choices fandom:

Blog: @darley1101 Name (and/or petname): Coll Birthday: December 11 Nationality: German/Syrian/with some Scottish and a dash of Russian Current residency: the US Languages you speak: English Masterlist: Coll's Fanfiction Masterlist

1. Is there a meaning behind your url name?

I wish I had some creative story behind my url name but alas it is just part of my actual name. I tend to panic when it comes to creating url names.

2. When did you start playing Choices? What's the first book you played?

I was an avid player of High School Story and Hollwood U so when Pixelberry announced their new app I decided to check it out. I guess you could say I've been there since the start. The Crown and The Flame, followed by The Freshman.

3. When did you decide to join Choices fandom?

Now this does have a funny/cute story attached to it! You can blame @queen-of-effing-everything for that! I ran across her stories on fanfiction.net and when she announced she would be posting on tumblr I sort of followed her over.

4. Go back to your archive and tell us what was your first post on your Choices blog was about.

I feel weird saying this but it was my first Choices fic, which was a cringy little drabble about Liam staring at burnt apple trees.

5. How long have you been writing fanfiction?

If we're talking about Choices it has been around 3 years, give or take. If we are talking about fanfiction in general I started writing for Grey's Anatomy back in Season 1.

6. Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it or would you change anything about it?

I am going to go with my first Choices fanfic, which is the burnt apple tree one I mentioned above. I don't know that I feel one way or the other about it but I do know that I wouldn't change anything about it. When I look at it I can see where I started from and compare it to where I am now. There has been definite growth in my confidence with the characters so for me that's more important than trying to perfect it.

7. What are your favorite Choices books to write about?

I have to be honest, questions like this give me major anxiety! I'm very indecisive when it comes to choosing favorites but if I absolutely have to I would go with The Royal Romance. There is just so much you can do with the characters!

8. Imagine this scenario: you’ve posted a fic anonymously for a contest/writing challenge. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

This is a tough one. A lot of my readers comment on my ability to portray a vast array of emotion with a small amount of words so I guess find a short emotional piece that is probably mine.

9. Which part of writing do you struggle with most?

All of it. 9 times out of 10 I've spent hours staring at a blank document with a little voice in my head saying 'why bother, you know it's not going to be as good as what others write.' Crazy, I know. I'm working on not comparing myself to others but it's definitely something I struggle with and it has played a huge factor in my writing.

10. Have you ever purposefully written one fandom/fic idea over another because you knew it’d be more popular?

To the best of my knowledge, no. If anything I try to write stories that are outside the box. There's just something about taking an idea and going in a completely out there direction that appeals to me.

11. Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing?

Absolutely. Author PC Cast was my creative writing teacher; of course back then she was just a creative writing teacher with dreams of being a published author. If you like vampire stories I strongly recommend checking out her House of Night Series. As far as fandom members who have influenced my writing I would have to say the biggest influence has been blackcatkitta. From the start, we have been honest with one another when it comes to our writing. If something isn't working we're both comfortable enough with each other to say 'that doesn't work,'

12. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?

My husband has read most of my stories or been involved in some capacity. Does that count? If not, I'm not sure I would let others besides him. I'm very self concious when it comes to my writing.

13. Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it’s entirely positive?

It has had a significant impact on my life. Without going into details it has opened doors that led me to people who have experienced similar traumas. I used to feel very alone, like there was something wrong with me, and now I have a support network that is there to remind I didn't deserve what happened to me, that there was something wrong with the person who hurt me...in return I've been able to do the same for others.

14. You’re applying for the fanfic writer of the year award. What five fanfics do you put in your portfolio?

Maxwell Beaumont's Terrible Day

Bittersweet Symphony

I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas

Rain

A Bit of Normal

15. Do you write original stories?

I want to but I am forever talking myself out of it.

Do you want to contribute with questions/ideas for the next Meet The Writer Q&A? Send us a message.

Thanks for reading! Reblog to share your appreciation for @darley1101 ❤️

#choices fic writers creations #350 followers #the royal romance fanfic #the freshman fanfic #perfect match fanfic #cfwc meet the writer

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omg-imagine · 4 years

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⊱ Forget Me Not (8/15) ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Angst

A/N: I kept thinking this would be a short chapter but then BAM! words ahaha. Once again, thank you for the feedback! It truly means the world to me. I hope you enjoy!

Part 7

Since the spontaneous beach date in Santa Monica, time seemed to blend seamlessly from one day to the next. Nearly three, blissful weeks had flown by in a blink of an eye, and your relationship with Keanu blossomed like a fresh flower in the spring. The connection had grown more profound when the two of you crossed the line between friendship and romance, the sweet kiss on the sandy shores being the final push you needed.

The days that followed felt something akin to the beginning of the honeymoon phase in a relationship. Your parents had been right; Keanu was a good man who loved you very much. Each day he was winning over your heart more and more. He treated you like a queen with a tender adoration, unlike no other. He made you feel things you didn't believe anymore, pulling you away from the past you've known and despised, and replacing it with moments much better.

Keanu had made it his mission to bring you to all of the favorite places you used to go together. He took you to a fancy restaurant up in the hills, an art gallery you spent hours at, and most recently, a botanical garden where you found out about your newest affinity for flowers. Everywhere you went, Keanu shared with you cute little anecdotes from the last time you visited, adding more stories to cherish in your heart forever.

Along with that, you were also unable to keep your hands off of each other. Touches seemed to linger a little longer, and holding hands while out in public became the norm. You realized how much you were addicted to kissing Keanu, and how your heart would melt with every adoring look he gave after pulling away.

Sometimes, you would steal a kiss from Keanu when he least expected it. He would be in the midst of telling you about his day at the Arch office when suddenly, you would lean in and kiss the living daylights out of him. After a moment of surprise, he would quickly kiss you back, his lips perfectly melding with yours as he held you close. You didn't know of another man who could kiss you breathlessly like Keanu, and deep inside, you didn't want to.

You only wanted him.

Though the two of you had gotten closer over the last few weeks, you didn't miss the slight sadness hiding behind his eyes. Whenever you tried to get Keanu to open up about his feelings, he was often reluctant to do so, answering with short, vague responses that barely skimmed the surface. Something was clearly troubling him, and it was a bit worrisome that he couldn't tell you why.

But you still trusted him. Perhaps it was quite naive of you to believe that he has done nothing wrong, but he never gave you a reason not to. Your best guess was that he continued to blame himself for your accident. There could have been a quarrel that night, causing you to leave the house, which wasn't unusual for you to do so. After all, you did have a bad temper, and a bad temper was typically followed by impulsive decisions, usually unfortunate ones.

Such as driving in the dark, in the middle of a nasty storm.

And if you were correct, then Keanu shouldn't feel guilty about what had happened, and he needed to understand that.

"Y/N?"

A gentle voice spoke your name, and you glanced up, seeing Harry, the receptionist at the office. Your doctor had cleared you to return to work earlier that week, and you were excited to finally have something to do rather than stay at home all day. You weren't sure what exactly your job entailed, but being that it's related to one of your passions, you couldn't wait to get started.

"Hey, Harry," you smiled as you stood up from your seat, smoothing out the wrinkles from your blouse.

"Nicholas is ready for you in his office," the older gentleman informed you. "It really is great seeing you again here. Everyone was so worried when we got word of your accident and the amnesia. I almost didn't believe it until you walked in here and didn't recognize me right away. But all that matters is that you're fine now, and you're back."

"Thank you. I appreciate the card you sent me while I was in the hospital. It was lovely of you to do that."

"Of course, honey. You and I were inseparable, and I wish you could remember the shenanigans we've done here."

"Me too," you added. "Don't worry, one day we'll get lunch together and catch up."

"I can't wait." Harry beamed brightly, leading the way to Nicholas' office.

Stopping in the hallway just several feet from your boss' door, Harry turned around to face you. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," you answered, sensing the slight jitters in your body.

"Don't worry, Nick is a nice guy. You're going to love him," Harry responded before approaching the office and knocking lightly on the wooden door. "Sir, she's here."

Seconds later, the door swung open, revealing a tall man with a bright smile, joy and relief emanating from his face as his eyes settled on you. He was younger than you had expected him to be, more charming and good-looking, too. You felt Harry softly squeeze your shoulder before walking away, leaving you alone with Nicholas.

"I can't believe that you're back," he said, stepping to the side and allowing you to enter his office. "When Harry mentioned that you were coming to visit today, I was ecstatic. We've missed you around here. Well, mostly me because I thought I had lost the best assistant I've had."

Sitting down in front of his desk, you studied the walls around the room. It was decorated with what you assumed were his best works, as well as the plaques, certificates, and awards he had received for his talent. According to Molly, Nicholas was very well-known in the industry, and you were lucky to have worked alongside him.

"Impressive, huh?" You heard him say, and you shifted your gaze forward. "It took years of hard work and dedication. Not impossible as some people may think."

"I didn't pursue a career in this at first because that's exactly what I had thought—it was impossible."

Nicholas nodded. "That wasn't your mindset any more after you started working with me. You have the talent and tenacity. I could see you owning a successful business one day."

"Really?" You smiled at him.

"Surely," he replied, sliding a portfolio towards you. "Here, these are your most recent works. Back in January, we were doing this big fashion shoot in Prague. Soon after it was over, we went to Paris and then Milan. Your gift really shone at that time, and I'm very proud of how far you've come."

Flipping through the photographs, you couldn't believe that this what you were now doing for a living. It certainly was a step up from those boring 9 to 5 jobs you used to have.

"We actually have another project for a client coming up soon. It'll be a week in Japan, and I was hoping that you'll be well enough to come."

"That sounds amazing, and it would be an honor," you began, closing the portfolio and handing it back to Nicholas. "But I'm not sure if it’s the best idea to do so soon. I don't think I'm as good now than I was before the crash."

"Nonsense," Nicholas chuckled. "You are a natural, and I've known that since the very first day you walked in here. I'll tell you what, just think about it and get back to me in a week or two. I would really love to have you back on our team again."

"Okay," you nodded your head, accepting his suggestion. "I'll think about it and let you know if my decision changes."

"Good," he grinned, giving you two thumbs up before getting up from his seat. "Now, let me show you around and re-introduce you to everyone else. I'm sure they're all excited to see you."

---

You were practically skipping out of the building at the end of the day, overwhelmed with excitement knowing that you would be officially back to work next Monday. Although you wouldn't be doing everything you were usually responsible for, Nicholas was willing to use the time you're there to train you again.

As you walked to the quiet parking lot across the street, you heard the clicking of a camera shutter, a sound that was unmistakable in your ears. There was a sudden flash of bright light, followed by another click, whirr, and repeat. It was coming from behind you, you could tell, and your feet began picking up the pace. You could already spot Keanu's car which you had borrowed parked at the very end of the lot, and you quickly searched for the keys inside your purse.

"Damn it," you muttered when you stumbled, dropping your bag and its contents all over the concrete.

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest as you caught a glimpse of the stranger approaching you. It wasn't that you were scared that he might hurt you. You had become somewhat used to the presence of paparazzi whenever you and Keanu were out and about. But this was the first time that you were alone, cornered by one, and you didn't know what to expect.

"Here, let me help you, Y/N," the man's deep voice sounded as he crouched right beside you, a camera ready in his hand.

"No, it's fine," you gruffly spoke, grabbing your belongings and tossing them back into the purse as fast as you could. "Please, just leave me alone."

"Hey, there's no need to be worried," he assured. Though he wasn't menacing, you could tell that trouble lay ahead the more he spoke to you. "I only want to talk, that's all."

Finally, you stood up and swung your purse over your shoulder, walking briskly towards your vehicle. "No, I don't want to talk to you."

"Listen, Y/N, I'm running a story here about you and your boyfriend Keanu," the man trailed closely behind you. Merely a few steps more, you thought to yourself, and you would escape his bold intrusiveness. "There's been reports of your break-up before the accident—"

"Break-up?" you halted for a brief second, the mention of it catching you off-guard. Turning your head, you looked at the man in the eye. "You must be mistaken."

You didn't know why you were still talking to him. What you should be doing was getting inside the car and driving back home.

Back to Keanu.

But your mind couldn't shake away the strange feeling unexpectedly washing over you. You drew in a shallow breath, unable to ignore a certain uneasiness. You dared not to ask anything further, afraid that the man's answer would be nothing but hearsay. Yet, you remained intrigued, not fully understanding why. It sounded familiar as if it wasn't the first time you had heard it.

"Yeah, break-up," the man carefully nodded. "The two of you hadn’t been seen together in months. There were reports of tension between you and Keanu for a while. Surely this rings a bell, yes?"

You stayed silent. According to Keanu, no one outside your family and a select number of friends knew about your amnesia. His team hasn't caught wind of any article mentioning your current condition either, and you wanted to keep it that way.

"I-I have to go," you stammered out before promptly opening the driver's side door and sliding inside.

From the rearview mirror, you could see the man taking more pictures of you, even as you pulled out of the parking space. You drove away from the building and further down the street, turning into a convenience store lot once you were sure that you had gotten far enough. Putting the car in park, you sat there for a moment, hands still gripping the wheel as doubt gnawed at your guts.

The quiet purr of the engine filled the empty air, offering itself as a fleeting distraction from the hurricane of thoughts swirling inside your head. You didn't want to believe what some stranger had said to you, but you couldn't easily brush it off. It perturbed you, causing you to second guess everything you know, what Keanu has told you.

The perfect relationship you had painted— the one deeply ingrained in your mind for some time— was now falling apart. It crumbled down the more you tried to fit the pieces of the puzzle, your heart both seeking and fearing the truth. You had always ignored the possibility that Keanu could have been lying to you, pushing the idea of it away because you wanted to hold onto the happiness.

But perhaps you were indeed that naive after all.

---

Keanu flipped back to the first page of the script he had finished reading, thoroughly enjoying the plot and the storyline of the character he was being asked to play. He could see himself accepting the role and working on the movie scheduled to shoot early next year. The only thing holding him back once again was you.

Things between him and you were going great, to say the least. It felt like everything was back to normal. The kind of normal which Keanu had missed so dearly and at one point, thought that the two of you would never get to experience again. This entire journey of showing you the memories that you've lost was also reminding him of what was special about you. It reminded him of why he fell in love with you, something he had forgotten before the accident.

You would be coming home anytime soon, so Keanu decided to simply wait and discuss with you about the upcoming project. As he sat there on the couch, scrolling mindlessly through the hundreds of emails on his phone, another text came in from Molly, and he heaved out a sigh. Opening the notification, he then read the words on the screen, realizing that it was the same question she has been asking him for weeks.

Have you told her yet?

No, Keanu typed out and quickly hit send.

When will you? It's been weeks, Keanu. She deserves to know the truth.

Ignoring Molly's response, he deleted the messages and set his cell down on the coffee table. Keanu was lucky that she had not mentioned anything about it yet to you despite how often you and Molly were talking now. He knew it would only be a matter of time before she told you, however, either on purpose or a slip of the tongue. Keanu should be grateful that Molly was giving him the chance to confess to you himself instead of hearing it from someone else.

As if it fared any better the last time.

Keanu was mulling over his predicament when he heard the car pulling into the driveway. Quickly, he got up and headed to the front door, ready to greet you and ask you how your day went. But when he stepped outside and saw the crestfallen look on your face, the smile he had on faltered, withering away as he hurriedly met you halfway.

"Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen?" Keanu probed, bringing his hands up to hold the sides of your face. You didn't even glance up as you pushed him away, silently walking past him. You almost made it to the door when you paused, your body tense as it slowly spun around to face him.

"Ke," you said his name in a whisper, your teary gaze meeting his own. You opened your mouth again to speak, but no other words would come out. Keanu waited as you attempted to collect yourself, but your chest continued to rise and fall with rapid breaths. "I-I can't… There are just too many thoughts in my head. I-I feel so scattered."

Exhaling deeply, Keanu recognized it almost immediately. You were clearly overwhelmed, and he knew a way to calm you down. Closing in the distance between you and him, he placed a palm on your cheek, urging you to look at his eyes. "Do you trust me?"

"I-I don't know," you stuttered lowly, much to Keanu's shock. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Then let me help," he spoke softly. His hand moved down to grasp yours, tugging it slightly as he began heading towards the garage, encouraging you to follow.

Punching in the code, the door opened slowly, revealing his array of motorcycles inside. Keanu led you to his most treasured bike, his sleek and elegant black Norton Commando which had become your favorite one to ride with him. He caught the hesitation etched in your features, so he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I need you to trust me right now, can you do that?"

You shrugged, eyes remaining downcast. "What are we doing?"

"We're going for a ride," Keanu answered before swiftly retrieving two helmets and the keys by the back wall. "Here, put this on while I wheel the bike out."

Moments later, Keanu was on the motorcycle with you sitting behind him. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his waist, afraid of losing balance. The bike idled underneath as he glanced over his shoulder, seeing you looking back at him.

"Don't worry, just relax and hold on," he said over the rumbling sound of the engine running.

Pushing the kickstand up, Keanu twisted the handlebars and smoothly pulled out of the driveway and onto the quiet street. Usually, he would have gone at a faster speed but decided to drive a mile or two under the posted limit. He wanted you to get used to the feeling of riding a bike again, which he hoped was currently working.

He felt you leaning in close, your chest resting on his back as he carefully navigated up and down the winding roads. The cool nighttime breeze blew gently into Keanu's face, but all he could focus on besides the path ahead was the heat radiating from you. A familiar warmth spread throughout his body as you clung on to him.

Yet another thing he has missed.

Reaching a red light, Keanu placed a foot down to steady the bike, waiting for the signal to change. He then looked back at you, noticing how your eyes had softened and the small smile on your lips. "Are you okay?"

You gave him a nod. "Yeah. I actually quite like this."

Keanu removed a hand from the handlebar and placed it above the one splayed on his abdomen. He intertwined his fingers with yours, allowing the simple touch to bring you comfort and reassurance. Eventually, the light turned green, and he started to drive again, the destination in mind just another mile up ahead.

Slowing down as he reached a bend, he brought the bike to a stop along the side of the road and shut off the ignition. Keanu slid his helmet off, brushing his messy locks back as you did the same.

"Is this…" you trailed off, seeing the bright lights of Los Angeles in the distance, the scenic view in front of you nearly taking your breath away. "This is the overlook from that picture back at the house."

Keanu smiled as he took your hand and began strolling through the grassy hill, bringing you closer to the edge. The sky was like a dark, infinite canvas with millions of twinkling stars painted upon it. They shone brilliantly in your eyes that were filled with wonder and awe. He led you to a wooden bench, gesturing for you to sit before taking the space next to you.

There was silence, and as much as Keanu wanted to break it, he let you bask in it for now. The overlook was a special place for both of you, not only because it was where he kissed you for the first time. It was the place you went to when life got too stressful, and you needed peace. It was a place for you to get away for a little while just to think.

"When I left the office, something happened," you revealed, your attention still on the skyline. "A guy approached me, one of those paparazzi, and he said we broke up before the crash."

Keanu's breath stalled as your glossy gaze slowly shifted to him.

"I know I shouldn't be paying them any attention or believe a word that they say," you sighed. "But it stuck to me and left me wondering if there's any truth to it."

This was it. It was Keanu's time to finally come clean. This was his opportunity to tell you what truly happened that night and the months leading up to it. As he sat there staring into your pleading eyes, he could already sense the hurt in them, and Keanu knew he would only be adding more.

"We didn't break up," he said tautly, his voice thick. "But for a while, we were in a bad place in our relationship."

"A bad place?" You repeated shakily. "What happened?"

Keanu licked his dry lips, his eyes flickering down in shame. "We were fighting a lot. I was doing a movie out of town, and the distance made it worse. I'd promise that I'd be home to spend time with you but never followed through. When I did come back, I let out all of my stress on you and pushed you away whenever you tried to get close. You were growing tired of it—of me. Meanwhile, I just ignored it."

Truth.

"The night of your accident, we got into a huge argument. I had said so many hurtful things to you that I still can't believe those words came out of my mouth," he continued, running a hand over his face.

Half-truth.

Keanu still couldn't force himself to admit it, the real truth. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't say it. It was already difficult for him to tell you pieces of the story. The memories of you and him screaming at each other and hurling insults broke his heart all over again.

If there was one thing Keanu had learned that night, it was that he couldn't lose you. He has gone through tragedy after tragedy for years, and he didn't want you to be another one of his devastating losses. He believed that he'd make up for his mistakes later on and prove to you how much he regretted making them.

Prove to you that he still loved you despite what he had told you before you stormed out of the house.

"Y/N?" He murmured, his hand coming to rest on your thigh, gently shaking you out of your daze. "Please, say something."

You blinked at him as you placed your hand on top of his. "We all make mistakes, Keanu."

"I know, and I didn't want to tell you because I was scared."

You knitted your brows. "Scared of what?"

"That you'd leave me. I was scared that if I told you that we were at the end of our ropes, you wouldn't stay. But I need you, Y/N. I love you, and I can't see myself spending a day without you."

"I don't like lies, Keanu." Shaking your head, you cupped the side of Keanu's face, the pad of your thumb brushing against the prickly scruff along his jaw. "You should have told me this earlier."

A single tear streaked down his cheek, and you wiped it away. "I know."

“But is that all?”

Swallowing thickly, Keanu nodded once.

Lie.

“Okay, I believe you.”

He exhaled a long breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to keep that from you.”

"You don't have to be perfect, Ke, because no one on this earth is. I might not remember how I felt back then, but all that matters is what I'm feeling now."

"And that is?"

You smiled softly at him before nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. "I feel like I'm falling in love with you."

With his free hand, Keanu tilted your chin up so that your eyes could meet. Though there was less weight on his shoulders now, he had yet to share with you one last important detail of the story. He's now caught in a battle between telling you to clear his conscience or let the secret be forgotten but risk dealing with the consequences if you end up finding out on your own.

But when you leaned up to his face, your soft lips sweetly molding to his, Keanu saved the fight with himself for another time. Because god forbid you do uncover the truth and leave, he wanted to at least savor every moment he has left with you.

Part 9

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer @fanficsrusz @toomanystoriessolittletime @awessomness @meetmeinthematinee @ringa-starr @ficsnroses @iworshipkeanureeves @keandrews @greenmanalishi @feminine-machinegun @thehumanistsdiary @lussdew @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @danceoftwowolves @allie1804-fan

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves x you #my fics #reader insert #rpf

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heli0s-writes · 5 years

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I. Soulmate Series and Peculiar Pairs

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: An introduction to the mystery of soulmates and love. You’re just another person lost in the world, trying to find yours.. until you give up. You meet some Avengers on the way. A/N: Part 1 of Mystery of Love.

The world had a very singular definition of soulmates: Two people, entwined by fate, perfectly right for each other, destined to meet and exist as one. The cosmos willed this. God willed it. The universe willed it. Whatever anyone’s religious or personal beliefs may be- there was a reply.

Children were told stories of their parents’ meeting and The Words they said to each other that sealed their future. These prophesized utterances would form onto their skin and scratch itself onto a special place in a script unique to that person’s handwriting. The lore of The Words were in every fairy tale and film. No wonder it had always been your dream to meet yours.

Your own parents met in Kindergarten, when your mother moved from Jersey to Manhattan because her father had been transferred to a higher position. He was hesitant at first, to leave their small city and large family behind, but changed his mind in early spring. The first day she set foot in her classroom, as she’d tell you over and over again, she was seated next to a chubby, freckled boy who shook her hand. With a firm grip, he yelled “Hello, beautiful!” and before she could respond, she had doubled over to scream.

When the teacher rushed over and your mother finally stopped crying, she’d lifted her paisley cotton shirt to see the askew “hEllo BEaUtiFul” letters circling her belly button. She pointed a finger to your father, blubbering uncontrollably, and yelled, “It’s you! You’re my soulmate!” and then it became his turn to double over.

The teacher called both their mothers and their mothers had taken them out of school for the rest of the day. They spent it in each other’s company, learning each other’s names, playing, eating ice-cream, and then took a nap, pinkies touching. They were inseparable ever since.

At age 4, it was your favorite story, and you wanted to hear it every night before bed. Your parents were the essence of perfection: your mother’s hair was always impeccable, your father’s shirt was always pressed, and they always kissed at the door when he’d leave for work.

At age 6, you began to wonder about your own soulmate. “Does it hurt very bad, mama?” “Why haven’t I met him yet?” “What if he’s mean to me?” “What if he moves away, mama?”

Your mother always assured you that it was meant to be. You were designed to be loved. The universe would never, ever, leave anyone out. Soulmates were destiny, and destiny was final. You were pleased with the answers she provided, and happy to hear them every time she reminded you.

At age 8, you’d forgotten all about soulmates. Boys were meant to be chased away on the playground, wrestled with in the grass, beaten in a game of soccer. Girls were your confidants, your sisters, who’d braid your hair and dance with you through the living room. Soulmates were for adults, and more than that, you were afraid of the pain of someone’s Words carving into your skin. There were rumors of 5th graders who found their soulmate in the fall, but they were big kids and you put off thinking about it for many years and stopped asking questions.

At age 14, it was no longer something you could ignore. Many girls were going through changes, some had looked like they were already finished, while you had barely started. Boys changed too. Everyone began to notice each other. And you began to notice yourself in this extant space. High school was extremely daunting, and on your first day, you promised yourself that you’d find your soulmate in this large campus.

Some juniors who had soulmates were already married with their parents’ eager approval. There was a club dedicated to meeting as many students in the school as possible to find your soulmate. On Thursday mornings they held “speed-meeting” sessions where one side held a notecard that said, “You are mine” and the other side, “I am yours” there were many variations that were available such as, “You are the light of my life” or “I’ll love you forever”.

You tried many times, afraid that if your soulmate was a senior and they graduated this year, you’d have to wait forever to meet them. After December, it was taking a toll on your heart. All of those sessions of sitting down and staring into the eyes of new started out exciting, but slowly turned banal and drove you into melancholy. Being bound to one person was supposed to be magical, but the recurring meetings felt disingenuous. You didn’t want to meet your soulmate in a sterilized setting, reading a notecard of words that were not from your heart.

Around winter vacation, you were so despondent and anxious that it began to manifest in severe and constant stomach pains. Your parents began to discuss the possibility of counseling. You refused them, afraid that you’d be labelled as a lovelorn freak for the rest of your life. They did relent, and instead gave you a very nice digital camera for Christmas, hoping it could be a hobby to distract you from your worries. Your very first picture was of your parents under the Christmas tree. Your second picture was of their Words, side by side. It took five months for your spasms to ease.

In your later teens, you began to branch out in earnest to find that person. You had worked as a hostess during senior year to maximize your chance of meeting someone, and even landed a barista job at one of the busiest cafés in Manhattan your freshman year of college at a small conservative university. You joined a sorority and lost count of all the events you’d attend and all the fraternity boys you’d met during that year. It was too much, in the end, you were focused on your studies and couldn’t stand another year in that tiny white picket-fence house always reeking of hairspray and Victoria Secret body mist.

You continued taking photographs and enrolled in art classes the following year. You had won a small scholarship and the funds went into a new professional camera. Mid-sophomore year, you quit your job at the café and began to take pictures for the University’s paper, penning food and entertainment columns here and there, primarily about your local college town. You submitted in group exhibitions and struggled to balance classes, a job, and your own inquiries of love. Most of your friends had met their soulmates, and when your roommate came home breathless, freshly inked in beautiful cursive script, and screamed, “It’s a girl!!”, you broke down.

You had never thought of the possibility of being with a woman. But what if the universe decided that it was? Could you love a woman, like that? You spent the rest of the weekend curled up in bed, ill with stomachaches, questioning everything you knew about yourself and your capacity to love.

You called home to ask your mother, “What if my soulmate is a woman?” and the audible gasp on the other line confirmed the feeling in your gut. You weren’t done yet. “What if my soulmate is a hundred and ten on his deathbed? What if he’s a murderer? What if… god forbid, a child?” the tears wouldn’t stop. You were hysterical. You no longer searched for “the one”.

Junior year, you spent a brief fall session abroad in Italy. It was a small group of 5 with one of your favorite professors and you were free to explore your own body of work in your specialty. This was the perfect opportunity to build your portfolio with historic sites and modern culture. Italy was beautiful, romantic, and being there felt like a dream. One of your cohort members met her soulmate while asking him for permission to sketch his picture. He was a green-eyed man with dark, curly hair swept in a low ponytail. Her Words appeared on his arm, “Excuse me! Do you mind?”

And his Words, “Non parlo inglese” Meaning, “I do not speak English”

After their shock subsided, they shared a laugh and you took their picture together, matching tender forearms side-by-side.

As intended, you didn’t find your soulmate in Italy, either. But you did find a spark. The whole soulmate business was breeding so many questions that were turning into criticisms inside you. The picture of your friend in Italy started churning the gears of your body of work. You began to seek out silly or strange First Words to photograph, and at the end of your spring semester, you held a solo exhibition back home. It was a smash and featured in the local paper on page 5. Soon after, it became viral on the internet.

Reviews raved about the humor of your photographs (one set of First Words read, “You think I’m cute, huh” and “You’re a fucking nightmare-boy”. Another, “Bless you” and “That wasn’t a sneeze” your personal favorite, "Give me your wallet" and "Oh hell no").

People were alarmed at some of the less traditional pairs you found: differing intense religious beliefs (Roman Catholic, and Satanist), age-disparity (15 year gap between them), familial relations (they were first-cousins), those encumbered by illness (one had been in a coma for 5 years), and something that was so rare you’d only read about it happening twice, ever: multiple soulmates.

In that particular case, you had put an advertisement online and received an e-mail that night from someone who wanted to refer you to their uncle and his family. You went the next morning to Prospect Park and met John and his soulmates Francis and Marilynn. You spent three hours with them that day. The photos you took were beyond lovely.

In senior year, you had a portfolio that was known world-wide. You were receiving so many e-mails a day about photo opportunities that your business address bounced back at least twice a week for 24 hours. Most of them were very desperate calls for attention, struggles for their 15 seconds of fame, you rarely had the time (or patience) to give an e-mail a second look. You put that body of work on hold, but still opened an online store to sell prints and gave the occasional phone interview. Between that and the various photography jobs you received elsewhere, you were self-sufficient and hardly struggled. You lived in a one-bedroom apartment and looked forward to travelling in the U.S. after college.

It was winter of senior year when you received a message in your personal e-mail that caught you by surprise. It was from Pepper Potts. The Pepper Potts. You were holed up cozily during a blizzard and almost spilled your tea in your lap. It was an invitation for you to visit Stark Tower headquarters, take a few pictures, and go home. The way she worded it was extremely delicate, making sure to flatter your work but also very strictly state the terms of agreement. She made sure to mention that you would be paid generously, of course.

When the snow melted, you made your journey, camera bag across your chest.

At age 20, you met Iron Man, Tony Stark, self-proclaimed billionaire, philanthropist, playboy, genius. You also met Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow.

Ms. Potts had met you at the door, opening it and extending her hand. She immediately thanked you for coming in the cold and praised your photographs. It surprised you when she admitted that as famous as your Soulmate Series was, she was more intrigued by the tenderness of the candid shots you routinely represented in your work, not your actual choice of subject. She had also done some research and found various college articles where you took pictures of local businesses and restaurants. “The intimacy that you captured of the most mundane of places… they were beautiful. I knew you were the person I wanted.” You laughed about your naiveite in those days, being only a newbie at photography, but Ms. Potts shushed you.

She led you to a conference room and slid a contract in front of you, asking for your patience and understanding at the long document. After the end of nearly an hour and a half of reviewing, questioning, and a sneaky interview process, you were ready to begin. A lanyard was placed in your hand with your picture and a keycode, giving you access to certain floors of the building.

The contract was complicated, but it boiled down to this: You were hired by Stark Industries to photograph their employees (and future employees) as well as any floor you had access to. It was your job to deliver simple and tasteful photos to represent the Stark image. You understood it to mean that your job was to create a cult of personality for Stark Industries somewhere in the realm of capable, trustworthy, and familiar- as if these people could be your close friends. The contract spanned a 30-day period where you were able to enter the tower at your leisure and convenience, wander as you wished, ask any questions you may have, and ultimately submit a binder of no less than 50 pictures with your detailed notes (including personal opinion on each photo).

Ms. Potts strongly suggested that if this assignment went well, she had high hopes for your future at Stark Industries. She kept her promise and continued to reach out to you about assignments.

At 21, almost immediately after your graduation, you met Thor, Hawkeye, and Dr. Banner- you prayed you would never meet his other half. That same year, you also met him.

Captain America. Every child in America knew about Steve Rogers. When news leaked that his body had been found frozen and that he was living in New York, it stunned you. He was a (newly) living (dead?!) legend; the idea of him was too much. When it dawned on you that you would be photographing him, you immediately threw up.

You would never forget that day. Your stomach hurt all night. It hadn’t done that since you were a child.

When you entered Stark Tower- you were too nervous to even notice that it had been transformed to the newly dubbed Avengers Tower. You rode the elevator up to the conference room where you scheduled to meet Ms. Potts, but Mr. Stark was there instead. Next to him, was the unmistakable physique of Captain Rogers. Your stomach twisted itself into a pretzel and you had to suck in a deep breath to continue walking upright.

You were so nervous that when Stark asked you for the umpteenth time to please call him Tony, you nearly twisted your ankle by mis-stepping. Sadly for him, you wouldn’t utter his first name for another few years. Captain Rogers had narrowed his eyes at you and the camera bag hanging limply on your hip. You could not stop trembling under his scrutiny. Even Tony offered you a drink to take the edge off.

Finally, he spoke.

“Good morning,” he said quietly, giving you a gentle nod.

You didn’t stop to look as you bolted out of the conference room and down the hall. As soon as you reached the toilet, you threw up.

The bile and acid that burned a path up your throat lingered all day and flared constantly in Captain Rogers’ presence. Your chest burned like a blaze. He in turn, gave you inspecting, worried glances and never tried to come any closer than 10 feet. You thanked him silently from across rooms and hallways. Mr. Stark joked that the best candid moments with Captain Rogers were in the showers, but if you kept getting sick like that, you’ll never get a chance. Your stomach did not appreciate the insinuation whatsoever.

Ms. Potts was infinitely more helpful. She sent you down to the infirmary but they could find nothing wrong with you. The nurse helping you, however, did notice that you had suddenly formed a bright pink rash right in the middle of your chest after watching you nervously rub your torso.

You thought nothing more of it, and by the time you got home, it had vanished.

The contract Ms. Potts emailed you that night detailed the next assignment, and upon completion, you would be paid 20 thousand dollars, more than double the amounts you’d previously received. Her postscript thanked you for your hard work with the Avengers, specifically, your patience with Tony and his constant quips, but that she wanted you to take some time to yourself and explore the world. Twenty-one, she said, was a tremendously important year for young women, and that she hoped to see more of your photography that was special to you, rather than necessary to her.

That night, you broke your apartment lease and made plans to travel at the end of the month. For the next 30 days, you took some of the best photos you had ever taken of the Avengers. However, you deeply regretted every photo you took of Captain Rogers. They were never as detailed or intimate as any of the rest. He was always either in a group setting, or far off, jogging, training, perhaps reading a book… across the kitchen, on the other side of a window.

You were afraid of him. Or rather, you were afraid of how your body reacted to him. From time to time, you’d see him look at you apologetically, which made it a million times worse.

After your assignment was finished and the rest of the payment was deposited in your account, you sold your furniture and packed two bags. For the two years, you spent time in Thailand, Russia, Italy, New Zealand, Saudi Arabia, and even a few icy weeks visiting the Arctic.

Once again, you picked up your Soulmates Series. This time you solely focused on what you lovingly called peculiar pairs.

In Thailand, you found a pair of non-gender conforming soulmates who lived in a large community of entirely non gender conforming people. Most of the country itself was extremely accepting and kindhearted, something that pained you to think about in regard to your own home. You learned so much about sexuality and identity in your time with them, and at the end of your trip, you felt entirely changed about your perspective on what it was to be male and female- and whether or not it actually mattered!

In Russia, you met two people who identified as asexual- one being intersex. On the day you met, he identified as male and wore trousers and ordered the strongest coffee you had ever tasted. The next day, you hardly recognized him in a lavender gown, and were surprised and happily obliged when he asked you to use feminine pronouns. Upon your departure, he was back again in trousers and let you use masculine pronouns in your writing. It broke your heart to learn about their struggle in a country that shunned and viewed them with contempt.

Your travels brought you to many identities and many facets of love. There were couples who never engaged in romantic activity, but cherished each other more than you’d ever felt from another soul. There were others still who’s lives were kept secret from their families and their society, at large. There was a household in Italy with a husband and wife, not soulmates, living with another man, whose soulmate had been the husband. They met by chance on the train. The wife was 7 months along, and there was incredible tension under their roof. Most days, they made it fine, some days, she expressed to you, she couldn’t help but fall asleep crying.

Sometimes, you would meet soulmates that made you truly question the work. These pairs haunted you.

In New Zealand, a man was 65 when he met his soulmate; he had waited all his life. She was a young volunteer at the day care center where he worked. He thought she would reject him because of their age difference, but she loved him. They spent one blissful day together. The next day, she was involved in a fatal accident on her way to work. You sat in silence in his living room as he held onto a picture of her and sobbed.

At the end of your travels, departing from Saudi Arabia, your heart was full of grief about soulmates. The last pair you visited was in a dimly lit home, where the husband smoked profusely, and you could not see his wife until the very end. When she came into the light, her eyes were both blackened, and she could not speak due to the stitches in her mouth.

Returning to Manhattan, at age 23, you had given up on not only your own soulmate, but all soulmate indoctrination. Your heart was hardened by the knowledge that predestiny could usher in such suffering, and that love could be so terrible. You began to resist.

Next Chapter

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #mcu x reader #Mystery of Love heli0s #soulmate au

1K notes · View notes

pink-bird-30 · 4 years

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RobStar Week 2020-Wedding Bells

Hi guys, I know I’m a day off for posting day 6 of RobStar week. But if you saw my previous post, I had a sudden death in my family and I needed time to process it. And I appreciate those who sent messgages in understanding. I just didn’t feel right writing such a happy moment for Robin and Starfire while I felt so sad.

Nevertheless, I have finished writing yesterday’s prompt and I’m happy with it. I wish I could write more on this, but then we’d be here for hours lol.

As always, my RobStar week postings are connected. So please go read the other entires before this one.

I will be posting day 7 tomorrow even thought RobStar week has officially ended. I just didn’t have it in me to write two stories today.

If you'd like to read all my entries in one sitting, here is a link to my FF.Net

(https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13635654/1/RobStar-Week-2020-All-Works)

Happy Reading!

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October 15, 2020

You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Richard John Grayson & Kory Anderson.

Cyborg tucks his white and gold invitation into his tux as he and Beast Boy make their way to the groom’s suite.

“Yo, Vic. Do you think he’s freaking out?” Beast boy asks as he checks his reflection in every mirror they passed in the overly expensive hotel hallway.

Cyborg chuckles and rubs his hands together, “Dick freaking out over his wedding? Man, oh man! I hope so, I’m gonna need some sort of entertainment before the reception.”

The two laugh before knocking on the creme colored door that read ‘Groom’ and watched as it swung open, revealing a panic stricken groom.

“Thank god you’re both here, please tell me you have the rings.”

The word ‘rings’ hangs in the air for eternity. Cyborg looks to Beast Boy, his eye growing wide, and Beast Boy looking at Cyborg with his mouth gapping.

Oh Shit!!!!

Dick’s eyes widen before launching himself at Cyborg and Beast Boy, causing all three men to fall to the ground.

“WHERE ARE THE RINGS?!”

“Dick, man. Just calm down.” Cyborg tries to sit up but is knocked back down to the maroon carpet.

Dick gives him a pointed look, “Calm down? Calm down! Vic, this isn’t some mission where if I forgot my boa staff I still had my birdarangs as back up. NO, THIS IS OUR WEDDING!”

Beast Boy turns a pale shade of green and tries to shake himself out of Dick’s hold, but he is no match for his angry leader’s strength.

Dick turns to Beast Boy next and seethed, “And you! You thought it’d be smart to trust you both with such a simple task! ‘Rob, man. You can trust us. We gotchu.’ Ha! Do you want to be the one to tell Starfire you left our rings halfway across the country?!”

The two Titans on the floor share a horrified glance, “No!”

“Good,” Dick pushes off of them and gets to his feet, brushing off his dark blue tux pants and readjusting his suspenders and white dress shirt.

Dick storms back into his suit and throws himself onto the white couch. He rests his elbows on his knees and his head falls into his hands. The other two Titans cautiously walk inside the room and close the door behind them.

Cyborg approaches Dick warily before settling a hand on his shoulder, “Dick, we’ll get the rings. Don’t worry about it.”

He groans knowing it was impossible for them to get the rings now. It finally started to get dark in Gotham and knew the ceremony is about to begin.

Dick drops his hands and falls further back into the couch, “How am I supposed to be a good husband to Kori when I can’t even make sure the rings got here today? What if it’s a sign, what if we’re not supposed to get married today, what if-“ Dick was cut off by a green hand slapping him across the face.

Beast Boy pulls Dick by his shirt and shakes him, “Pull yourself together man! What do you mean, ‘How am I supposed to be a good husband’? Dude, you fucking worship the ground that woman walks on and have taken care of her since day one. There is no one else that would be a better husband for her than you. So stop your whining and get your shit together!”

From besides him, Dick could hear Cyborg let out a low ‘Oh damn’.

Beast Boy slowly lets go of Dick and steps back quickly, afraid he’ll come to his senses and attacked him for slapping him.

Dick lets out a long breath, “You’re right. I’m just nervous and I don’t want to mess this up. She means too much to me.” Dick smoothed out his shirt again and stands up. He makes his way to his nightstand and pulls out his cellphone. He quickly dials the one person he knew could help them out of their bind.

Dick paces the room waiting for the phone to pick up, “Grayson! Are you freaking out yet?!”

Dick lets out a huff and cuts to the chase, “Wally, are you still in Star City?” His voice short.

“Yeah, what up? I said I’d be there before the ceremony began. I’m not like Barry who’d be too late.”

“I need a huge favor.”

“Oh? And what might this favor be?” Dick can hear the playful tone in Wally’s voice, but he doesn’t have the patience right now.

Cyborg sees the anger start to swell in Dick’s blue eyes, “Damn, Wally has a death wish right now.” He said to Beast Boy.

“No kidding, dude is an idiot.”

Before Dick has a chance to rip Wally a new one, Cyborg takes the phone out of Dick’s hands and puts it on speaker, “Yo, KF. We need you to go into the tower and into my room to grab Dick and Kori’s wedding bands. BB and I forgot them last night before the bachelor party.”

Wally paused on the other end of the phone before responding. “Holy, shit. You guys forgot the rings? How are you two still breathing?!”

Beast Boy frowned, “Dick didn’t hurt us too much-“

“Not dick,” Wally cut in. “I thought for sure Kori would have torn you both in half.”

The room grew silent.

Wally howls with laughter on the other end of the phone, “You mean to tell me Kori has no idea you forgot the rings? Dick, how are you not even married yet and already keeping secrets from your wife?”

“Wally.” Dick warns.

Wally laughs again, “Alright, calm down Boy Wonder. I’ll get the rings.”

Dick sighs in relief, “Thanks, Wally. Now get here as soon as you can. The ceremony is about to begin.”

“Roger that.”

And the call ends.

Beast Boy walks over to the fridge for a beer and pops it with his teeth, “See I told you it would work out.”

Dick glares at him and sends his shoe flying at his face.

“EEEPP!”

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

Kori sits still as the makeup artist puts the final touches on her look before she steps into her wedding gown. Kori spent the week daydreaming about wearing this gown and walking down the aisle towards Dick. It is a low back, sweetheart neckline mermaid gown with long lace sleeves and train. The buttons on the back of her gown are small flowers with rhinestones that will glitter under the full moon. The makeup artist added the lace and rhinestone veil to her hair. Kori decided to wear her hair in a low braided bun with small star pins places throughout her auburn locks.

“Viola! You are a bride!” The makeup artist stood back to let Kori take a look in the mirror. She felt herself tear up at her reflection.

“Oh! I look most delightful, I am the grateful!” She smiles at her helper through the mirror.

The makeup artists packs up her things and throws her bag over her shoulder, “In all my years of doing makeup, I neva’ thought I’d be doin’ makeup for Bruce Wayne’s son’s bride. And I don’t think I’ve eva’ had sucha beautiful bride before, your beauty is out of this world!” she said in a thick Gotham accent.

Kori laughs to herself knowing that the makeup artist does not know where she was from.

“Thank you.” The makeup artist smiles at her one last time, takes a few pictures for her portfolio, and leaves the room.

“Friend, Raven. The artist of makeup has left. You may reappear.”

Raven steps through the portal she opens in the wall and takes a seat on Kori’s bed.

“Good, I don’t think I would have taken another moment of, “Darlin’ you would look fabulous in pink!’ Yeck.” Raven rolls her purple eyes.

Kori smiles at her friend and grabs her bouquet of yellow and red tulips before turning to Raven.

“Is it the time, yet?”

Raven smiles at her friend knowing how big of a moment this is for her. All she can think back to was that fated day she came crashing into Jump City and changed their lives. Who knew one day she’d be attending Dick and Kori’s wedding. Raven can only think back to the feelings the two of them were harboring for one another for years before Dick finally told her how he felt. The only way Raven could explain it was like being high. Every time she’d walk in a room, and they were talking, it was like getting hit by a wave, so quick and ready to drag her under.

She knew the feeling all too well herself, but is afraid of how she’d handle her emotions if she were to let herself feel that kind of love completely.

Stupid pointy eared man with the cute fang.

A knock at the door brought Raven from her thoughts.

Starfire squeals knowing who it is. She pulls up the sides of her dress to prevent herself from tripping on the fabric and dashes to the door. When she pulls it open, Bruce is standing there adjusting the cufflinks on his black tux. He looks up to see Starfire smiling at him and he couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Kori, you look stunning.” He places a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Kori blushes slightly, “Thank you, Bruce.”

Alfred appears behind Bruce and smiles at the young bride, “Princess, you look quite marvelous in your gown. But as the time precedes us, we mustn’t keep Richard waiting. Don’t want him worrying, now do we?”

Starfire nods her head before turning around to grab her bouquet and pulls Raven from the room.

“Kori, slow down!”

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

It couldn’t have been a more perfect night for a rooftop wedding. The full moon radiates high in the night sky, stark against the deep purple night. Dick looks up, watching as a new stars appear as the moon travels through sky, going higher and higher.

Glancing across the rooftop, he takes note all the hard work he and Kori put into make this place special. They spent hours hanging string lights across the rooftop for lighting. It took two days making the floral lattice arch they would stand beneath when saying their vows, weaving red and yellow tulips all around it with sting lights. The white chairs are all lined up with the chairs facing towards the aisle having small lanterns hanging from them, to light the path that Kori would be walking down.

All the guests started to come in from the cocktail hour and settle in their seats; Dick recognizes more than half of the guest as his fellow heroes. The remaining bunch were a few of Bruce’s board members that he invited to show good faith.

Where the hell is Wally?!

Dick pulls back his dark blue tux sleeve to look at the time on his Rolex.

“Nervous?”

Dick looks up to see Raven. She looks very nice in her deep purple strapless gown, which catches Dick off guard. He notices a hint of makeup on her cheeks and lips, and her normally straight hair is hanging in lose curls.

“You look beautiful, Raven. How’s Kori doing?”

Raven blushes and then slightly scowls, “You’re deflecting.”

Dick leans against the side of the roof and looks down to the city below. It was strange to think that he’d been in Gotham twice this year. Before he was engaged, he hadn’t come back to Gotham ever since he left when he was 16.

That seems like forever ago.

“Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s time.” Dick’s heart jumps into his throat as the quartet’s music flows across the roof. Raven give Dick’s arm a pat before she walks back off the roof to accompany Beast Boy down the aisle.

Taking a deep breath, Dick sends a small prayer up to the stars.

I know you guys are here with me today, and I hope I’m making you proud.

Dick makes his way down the aisle, watching as Alfred takes his place under the lattice to officiate the wedding. The butler smiles at Dick once he is settled to the left of him, waiting for the rest of the wedding party make their way down the aisle.

“Ready, Richard?”

Dick gives him a bright smile, “Yeah, I am.”

Cyborg and Bumble Bee begin the wedding by walking down the aisle. It took some thinking, but Dick knew Cyborg was his best man. He’s been there since day one for him, helping him to guide the team from the beginning, and being the friends he needed in tough times when he knew he couldn’t go to Kori. They have each other’s backs.

Next, came Raven and Beasty boy. Dick is surprised Raven is letting Beast Boy touch her as they walk down the aisle. But from the looks on their faces, they seem to be comfortable with each other.

I’ll have to ask Kori about that later…

After they made their way down the aisle, the music transitions to ‘Here comes the bride’. The doors in the back of the roof open revealing Kori in all her glory. Dick is certain his mind blanked for a moment.

She looks absolutely stunning.

Bruce offers his arm to Kori and she gladly takes it.

As Kori makes her way down the aisle her entire focus is on Dick. She can see the emotion in his eyes as she takes one step closer to him. He smiles brightly at her knowing he wants to commemorate this moment to memory and never let it go. She watches as he wipes at his eyes, making her tear up a bit.

They’ve both come so far up until this point and it is finally happening.

As they reach the alter, Bruce steps in front of Kori to pull her vail over her head to reveal her face and places a kiss on her cheek. He steps aside to give her hand to Dick’s, which he graciously takes before helping her up the remining steps to stand across from him under the floral lattice.

He brings her left hand up to his lips and brushes a kiss across her knuckles, “Hi.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, “Greetings.”

“Has anyone told you, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight?”

Kori pretends to think before smiling at him, “Perhaps not. Although, I do not the minding of hearing it.”

“Ahem,” Alfred clears his voice, trying to gain the attention of the bride and groom. “if we are done with the pleasantries, may we continue.”

Dick nods.

Alfred goes into detail of Kori and Dick’s relationship, mindful to leave out how they really met just in case any reporters paid the staff for intel on the wedding.

“Do you, Richard John Grayson take Ms. Kory Anderson to be your wife?”

Dick rubs the back of her hands as he says, “I Do.”

“And do you, Kory Anderson take Mr. Richard John Grayson to be your husband?”

Kori sniffles, feeling the tears pool in her eyes. “I Do.”

Alfred looks to the audience, “May we please have the rings.”

Dick’s eyes widen for a moment remember the debacle from earlier.

The rings!

As Dick was about to tell Kori what happened to their rings, Wally waltzes up the steps and hands Dick the ring box with his and Kori’s rings. He gives Dick a pat on the back and whispers, “Told ya I’d get here in time.”

Dick shakes his head at Wally as he walks back down to his seat. He hands Kory his ring and he takes Kori’s before sliding the box into his tux pocket.

“Repeat after me, ‘With this ring, I thee wed.’”

Dick places the ring on Kori’s finger, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

“Once more, ‘With this ring, I thee wed.’”

Kori places Dick’s ring on his finger and says, “With this ring, I thee wed.”

They’re eyes meet at the same time as Alfred finishes the ceremony.

“With the power vested in my granted by the City of Gotham, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Dick reaches forward and cups Kori’s face before pulling her lips to his. In the distance there were cheers and applause for the new married couple. As they pull apart the cheers slowed until Alfred stepped aside for everyone to see them.

“I now present Mr. and Mrs. Grayson.” The room erupted in applause and whistles as they made their way down the aisle and into their new lives as husband and wife.

#RobStar Week #RobStar #Robin #Starfire #Dick and Kori

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fireblogger · 3 years

Text

Common Money Mistakes

Disposing of disposable income. As you move into the corporate world, or your trade, or even get a promotion at your current job you may start seeing more money coming into your account. Bigger paychecks, better benefits, maybe even bonuses. You’ll probably also start seeing some bigger temptations. When I first started getting a decent paycheck my temptation was to go to the mall and shop at stores like JCPenney’s or Torrid. Now, I spent my entire life buying clothes at second hand stores a couple shirts and pairs of jeans a year. So Torrid’s nice business clothes? That was fancy. I went, I found a brand they carried that I liked quite a bit and I bought several shirts and a few pairs of pants, a blazer with some blouses Maybe spent a couple hundred over a few months, now it would not be exaggerating to say that’s about how much I had spent on clothes my entire life. ($10-15 annual budget 6th grade onwards). And at first it was nice, I was so happy to have made it to the point where I could go out and buy myself a nice shirt. And you know what, that was nice. But it didn’t make me happy in the long-term. After two or three months I stopped going – because sure now I had some nice shirts and business clothes, but I never really wore them. Instead, I started buying Gildan brand shirts online from shops like blankapparel. They’re $2-3 heavy cotton shirts that last forever and are really nice quality. All that disposal income I had been disposing of on clothes was rerouted to high-yield savings accounts instead.

Spending too much on housing. Now, I’m a sucker for an apartment with a washer and dryer in the unit. When I bought my duplex literally what I was most excited about was the fact that there was a washer and dryer. I’m not kidding the first night I drove up an hour from my apartment just to do half a load of laundry. So I can absolutely understand wanting to spend extra on a location with a washer and dryer – but the question is how much extra in my area a washer and dryer can increase rent by ~$100/month if not more. The rule I’ve heard several times is to spend less than 30% of your income on your housing, however that percent is greatly dependent on the cost of living. My rule of thumb – get the cheapest livable place you can find with as many roommates as you can stand. I spent years wishing I had a washer and dryer and instead spent years saving that extra $100 a month (well $50 since I had at least one roommate). So my advice is to find somewhere that’s close enough to your job/school that you can still get there with heating/cooling/no pests and to start saving money from there. Of course, if having an really nice apartment, or having privacy with no roommates is important to you take that into consideration. Just make sure you are considering the future value of that extra rent money instead of just the present value.

Debt. Emergency funds are important, and everyone should have something even if it’s not the 3 – 6 months salary that’s often recommended. Honestly, even an emergency $100 could be very important to have. Some people will use credit cards as their emergency fund, this should be your absolute last resort. Credit cards have very high interest rates, which means that any expenses paid for on a card will grow at an alarmingly fast rate. Say you have a sudden $500 expense, and you have a 24% APY credit card. That means that you will need to pay an additional 2% of interest every month. But because that 2% of interest is compounding it’s not the same as adding $10 every month, instead it’s adding $10 of principal. Which means that your next 2% interest add is 510 * 1.02 rather than 500 * 1.02. Let’s say in this scenario that you make a payment of $15 a month towards your $500 debt. It will take you 56 months to pay down the balance, and you will end up paying over $332 in interest. Making your total cost closer to $832.It will take almost two years before your $15 payment goes more towards principal than interest! Now imagine spending that $500 on a new phone, or pair of shoes, or some other non-essential non-emergency. It’s a bad idea.

Not saving for Retirement. Now this whole blog is geared towards early retirement, but that’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Maybe you like your job. Maybe you don’t mind your job and prefer living at a certain income level rather than trying to save every penny for retirement. Maybe you’re early in your career and don’t feel like you make enough to save for early retirement. You should still be saving for retirement. The greatest asset we have is time, and investing earlier even if it’s in small amounts, gives it time to grow. A $1,000 invested when you’re 25 can grow to be double what $1,000 invested when you’re 35 would. Even if it’s only a few dollars a week start investing early, brokerage platforms like Robinhood have very low minimums and you can invest in funds or ETFs on it.

If you invest, don’t be conservative. I had this problem when I first started investing. I let an older finance manager invest my first $3,000 with the understanding that it would be a retirement account. HE PUT IT ALL I N BONDS???? Okay, I’m young, I should be focused on growth with most if not all of my funds in stock. They’re higher risk, but if I’m planning on holding them for 20-30 years that risk is greatly mitigated. I lost over a year of growth before I realized that the retirement fund he had put my money in was intended for people in the 50s to 60s that already had a decent amount of value and now needed lower risk and lower growth investment vehicles. Since I moved my portfolio out of bonds and into stocks it has nearly doubled, the red line is when I realized my mistake and switched my funds into a stock portfolio.

Go big or Go Home!

#finance #personal finance #money #money tips #investing #money advice #fireblog #fireblogger

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