#but that doesn’t mean i have /no/ problems and it doesn’t mean i think i’m better than anyone else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

atlabeth · 22 hours ago

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in over my head

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: between all the arguments, you and spencer begin to understand each other a little bit more.

a/n: wauw.... out of nowhere i wrote 4k words and finished this chapter in one night... god bless spencer reid. i hope you all enjoy. r's cold heart is finally starting to defrost. title from the fray song

wc: 5k

warning(s): arguing, case discussions (stalking, murder, etc), talk of parental neglect, hurt w/o comfort then hurt/comfort. r lowkey freaking out this whole fic. the usual good time

You lean against the wall, trying to keep your breathing as quiet as possible.

You don’t really want Spencer to know you were eavesdropping on him the whole time. You don’t really want him to see the look on your face because he defended you to your dad.

He— he should expect it, shouldn’t he? He’s sitting out in the living room on the phone, and you’re you. It’s only natural you’d listen in on him.

Spencer defended you to your dad— mouthed off to him in very un-Spencer-like fashion.

Why?

From what you’d gathered, he practically worshipped the guy. Even if he didn’t, your dad was still his superior. It didn’t really seem like any kind of good idea to talk back to him.

But he did.

For you.

You thought Spencer merely tolerated you because he had to. You wouldn’t blame him, the way you treated him. So why would he do something like that for you?

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer say your name. You blink back into yourself to see him standing in front of you, and you feel your face burn.

So much for not being obvious.

“I’m assuming you heard everything?” he asks.

You nod. You have the decency to not insult his intelligence, at least.

“That means we can go over everything,” Spencer says, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

You frown. You expected him to be mad at you for eavesdropping, or use what he did for you as leverage for something, or— or do anything but act normal.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts once again as you follow him back to the living room. Spencer sits back down on the couch and you tentatively sit across from him.

“I don’t want what I said to scare you,” he says. “Hernandez may be our lead right now, but I doubt it’ll stay that way. Elle and Morgan are going to check him out, and I’ll get another call once they do.”

You blink. Of course he’d expect you to be focused on that part—your stalker, the threat against your life, the whole reason you’re in here. Not Spencer sticking up for you.

“Right,” you say. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Honestly? No.” Spencer sighs and shakes his head. “You heard what I said. He doesn’t fit the profile—he’s a man who made the worst choices of his life when he lost everything. If he’s been released, he might have actually changed. We’re only on him because he’s all we’ve got.”

“…Good,” you say. “Strangling wouldn’t be my top way to go.”

“You need to stop talking like that,” he says.

“I need to stop doing a lot of things,” you respond. “Any idea how much longer we’ll be in here?”

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re here until this case is solved or our cover is blown.”

You huff. “Like if this guy finds us again?”

He nods. “But that shouldn’t happen. Elle, Gideon, Hotch, and Strauss are the only ones who know about this place, and they’re obviously sworn to silence.”

“Strauss?”

“Erin Strauss,” he says. “The BAU’s section chief.”

“Ah.” You realize you’re still holding your mug, now empty, and you lean forward to set it on the table. “What happens if we’re made?”

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the worst case scenarios,” Spencer says. “Pessimism doesn’t just make anxiety, depression, and paranoia worse—it can raise your blood pressure, increase your chance of cardiovascular problems, and mess with your immune system. It’s literally bad for your health.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” you ask. “I’ve got a stalker and we didn’t realize until he’d been watching me for a month. Your team has only got one lead and you don’t even think it’s the right one. That sounds pretty negative to me.”

“We’re still at the beginning of this case,” Spencer says. “It usually takes a few bodies for us to figure out what’s really going on and find the unsub in our regular cases.”

You stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s actually said.

“Of course, there won’t be any bodies in this case!” he rushes. “You— you’re going to be perfectly fine!”

“You’re really not great at reassurance,” you say wryly as you pick up your cup and stand up, “are you?”

“Homicides only occur in two percent of stalking cases!” Spencer continues, his voice rising as you go into the kitchen. “A- and you might not even be the primary target! If anything, he might be going after your dad!”

By now you’ve finished filling your mug again. You stop at the edge of the hallway when he finishes, leveling a tired look at him.

“Thanks, Spence. That really helps.”

You walk back to your room, and once again, you only close the door halfway to humor his concerns.

If you’d lingered a little longer, you would have been able to see his frown.

“Spence?” he murmurs in confusion.

The rest of the day goes by smoother than you thought it would, largely because Spencer keeps his distance and you don’t fight it.

You busy yourself with more cleaning—you never finished it after your last outburst—and when you finish that, you read. You find Pride and Prejudice in the box of books the BAU provided, and it’s a good distraction. You’d much rather worry about the problems of the Bennets rather than your own.

You end up cooking first, and you offer Spencer some of your pasta when you finish. He initially looks shocked at the olive branch, but you figure you owe him something for all he’s put up with.

You don’t tell him that, of course. You just tell him he has five seconds to make a decision before you finish the rest, and he snaps out of it pretty quickly.

(“I promise I’m capable of cooking,” he says as he spoons a helping into his bowl. “I— I just don’t have much time for it. We’re always out on cases so we go to a lot of restaurants, and I get take-out at home because I get home at ungodly hours.”

“Just shut up and eat your food,” you say. “I don’t need to hear your opening statement.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t call this an opening statement. It’s more of—”

“Oh my god.” You pick up your bowl and walk off. “Goodbye.”

“I think it’s more of a witness testimony!” he calls out.)

A similar thing happens with dinner, where you pull out the old reliable of chicken and rice. Dressed up a bit with some of the vegetables that are somehow already on the verge of going bad, but still the same thing you’ve eaten a million times throughout your life. You don’t really feel like cooking, but you also don’t feel like having to hear Spencer set the smoke alarm again, so you settle for this.

(“You know,” Spencer says as he cuts into a chicken thigh, “I should really be trying everything first. Just in case there’s poison or something.”

You stifle your incredulous laugh. “How would there be poison in anything? You all bought and brought this stuff in.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can never be too careful.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you say. “I— I think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“I hope you’re not challenging me,” Spencer says. “Because I can beat it very easily.”)

Between that, he calls out on occasion to make sure you’re still alive. You think it’s stupid, but it seems to ease his mind, so you play along.

He gets a call from your dad late at night, which he then goes on to relay to you—Agents Greenaway and Morgan paid a visit to Adam Hernandez, and they weren’t able to find anything suspicious. Penelope Garcia is going to comb through everything she can find on what he’s done since his release before they officially abandon the lead, but Hernandez is on parole and hasn’t violated it once—he seems to be clean.

You don’t know whether you’re thankful for that or not. On one hand, you want this to be over. Getting lucky on the first suspect would be great. On the other hand, having a face to all of this scares you more than not knowing. You still have the chance to deny that all of this is real, really real—when they find their guy, you can’t do that anymore. There’s actually someone out there that wants to hurt you.

The thought crossed your mind more often than not.

Other than that, he doesn’t really bother you. Another thing where you don’t really know if you’re thankful or not.

It’s close to midnight, and though you haven’t been able to sleep, you’re ready to accept this as another, thankfully non eventful day.

But then there’s a huge flash of lightning, visible even through your closed blinds, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder, and your whole body freezes up. Your hands stop on the page you were on, and a chill runs all the way through you despite the layers of covers you’re under.

Rain has been pittering against the house for half the night, and you can deal with rain. You can’t deal with thunderstorms.

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. The absolute last thing you need to do is work yourself into a panic attack and get Spencer involved. You don’t think you could take the embarrassment.

You attempt to go back to your book. You’d just arrived at Mr. Collins’ unsuccessful marriage proposal, but you can hardly focus. It doesn’t help when lightning illuminates your room once again, a clap of thunder sounding even quicker after, and your lamp flickers for a moment. This is actually the last thing you need—for the power to go out.

A knock on your door suddenly sounds, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’re already on edge and the storm’s just barely started. You hear Spencer call your name and ask if you’re awake, and you clear your throat before you respond.

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it wavers ever so slightly.

“Can I come in?”

You don’t want him to see you like this. “Is there something wrong?”

“It’s the storm,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond. “I’m coming in.”

You have all of two seconds to make sure you don’t look as pathetic as you feel before Spencer walks in.

He looks like he just got out of bed. He’s wearing a Caltech crewneck and sweatpants, and his glasses are about to fall off his face. His disheveled appearance is in stark contrast to his usual image, with dress pants and button-ups and sweater vests galore. One of his hands clenches around the doorframe, and he uses the other to haphazardly push his glasses up as he sets his eyes on you.

“You need to come back into the living room,” Spencer says.

“And good evening to you too.” You try not to look at him. You’ve learned that’s the best policy when it comes to him and those stupid glasses. “Why?”

“Because there’s a storm going on, and the power’s already flickered,” he says. “I don’t want to lose track of you if it does go out.”

“If the power goes out, we’re in the open out there,” you say. “If you’re so worried about it, you should stay in here.”

You expect a fight, but he just sighs and sits down in the chair across from your bed. “Fine.”

You frown. “That was easy.”

“I don’t feel like fighting with you over every little thing,” he says simply. “You might enjoy it, but I don’t. So I’m trying to take the path of least resistance.”

“That’s no fun,” you say.

“Well, you’re not very fun to be around,” Spencer says. He glances at you for a split second before his gaze goes back to the wall. “So.”

“Well, neither are you!” You don’t mean for your retort to come out so defensively, and you cringe as he looks back at you. It’s impossible to be around profilers without them knowing your every intent. You’d hate to know all the thoughts he’s had about you. “I might turn everything into a fight, but you turn everything into a drag.”

“You’re doing it again,” he says. You expect him to go on, but he leaves it that. You find your brows furrowing deeper.

“And?”

“Maybe if you recognize your patterns, you’ll stop,” he says. “Sometimes people don’t realize they're doing something until it’s pointed out to them.”

You huff. “How many times do I have to tell you not to psychoanalyze me?”

“I don’t choose to do it,” Spencer says. You don’t miss the slight bite behind his words, and it almost makes you smile. As much as he doesn’t want to give you a fight, he can’t really help himself. You tend to bring out the worst in people. “It just happens in my brain automatically.”

“Try to hold back,” you say. “It—”

Your words die in your throat with another crash of thunder, almost simultaneous with the lightning. It shakes the whole house, and you can’t help the full body flinch that wracks you, almost freezing completely. The power flickers again, and then it goes out altogether. You don’t even hold back your groan of annoyance.

“Of course,” you grit out. “Of fucking course.”

“Are you okay?” You look at him despite yourself, and even in the dark you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes your hands clench into fists beneath the sheets.

“Fine,” you mutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

Spencer frowns. “Of course it does.”

You scoff. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Why would it not matter?” he asks incredulously. “You— you’re clearly distressed, and holding it back isn’t helping anyone.”

“Maybe I just like silence.”

“Well, you clearly don’t like storms.”

“How’d you figure that one, genius?” you mutter. You wrap your arms around yourself and pull your knees up to your chest, trying to lessen the sudden chill you feel.

“...Normally, I would give you a real answer,” Spencer says. “But based on the lecture you just gave me—”

“You figured right,” you snap. It only takes a second—and those stupid, soft eyes of his to dart away again—for you to feel… bad.

He sighs and shakes his head as he stands up. “I’m going to get a candle. Stay put.”

You tense as he walks out. Your whole body does, actually. You don’t know what it is about him or those stupid eyes that always manage to skirt out sympathy from you.

You should feel gratified. At the start of this, you wanted to push Spencer to his limits—he’s too nice for his own good, and you wanted him to not only give you a more concrete reason to hate him, but get a reason to hate you back. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this one-sided rivalry with the apparent saint of the BAU.

But you don’t. You feel bad, and you hate it. You hate it more than any reasonable person should, but then again—you’ve never been reasonable.

Spencer comes back in sooner rather than later, two lit candles in his hands. You can see the on-sale sticker plastered on the side of both, and you suppress a laugh. It’s something so small but so typical.

“One’s vanilla, and one is,” he squints as he shifts it in his hand to read, “beach escape. What does a beach escape even smell like?” He shakes his head, then looks at you. “Which one do you—”

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself.

This time, it’s Spencer’s turn to frown. His face is illuminated from beneath by the candlelight and it gives him an almost haunting beauty, highlighted with yellow and white along his jawline and cheekbones. The flames are mirrored in the lenses of his glasses. “For what?”

“For snapping.” You almost snap at him again out of instinct, and you let out a long, loose sigh in an effort to try and chill out for once. “Sorry. Again.”

“Oh.” He stands there for a moment holding the two candles, and it could be a laughable sight were you not near consumed with guilt. “Uh— it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Fine,” he says, “it’s not. Which candle do you want?”

“Which one do you want?”

“This isn’t where you have to start the ‘being nice to me’ thing,” Spencer says. “They’re kind of starting to burn my hands.”

“Beach escape,” you say. He nods and sets it on your bedside table, then sits back down in his chair after placing the vanilla one in the window sill.

“You… seem a little pent up,” Spencer says after letting the silence dwell for a beat. His shoulders have relaxed some, not hunched up almost to his ears. Small victories, at least.

“I don’t talk about my emotions much,” you respond in equal fashion. “It’s not really my thing.”

He shrugs. “Why not start now?”

You laugh. “Why would I ever start now?”

“You said it yourself,” he says. “I have a psychology degree. I’m a good listener.”

“You interrupt me all the time to say stuff.”

“You interrupt me all the time too, so I guess we’re even.” Spencer shifts in his chair. “Besides, I can listen when it’s important. And this is.”

You stare at him. He stares back.

He has beautiful eyes even in the dark, and you hate that you can’t deny it. Deep brown like the oaks surrounding this place, that shine like pools of honey in the firelight, that always seem to soften just so when he looks at you.

You break first. You have to look away. You always have to look away.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you manage. “I was a latchkey kid. Storms happened a lot when I was home alone and they scared me. I guess they still do. Happy?”

“Believe it or not, your pain doesn’t make me happy,” Spencer says.

“I didn’t think it did,” you say, trying your best to snap.

He nods. “So we’re in agreement?”

“I—” you pause, a slight frown creasing your brows. “I guess.”

Spencer nods again, and he leans forward a bit. “Wasn’t that a lot better than fighting with me, getting upset, and isolating yourself?”

You scowl. “Don’t you dare therapize me.”

“It’s hard not to,” Spencer says. “Especially when you seem determined to make our conversations one-sided.”

You scoff. “I do not.”

“You act like talking to me is a physical pain.” He crosses his arms. “You locked yourself in the bathroom last night to avoid talking to me.”

“I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t lose my mind in front of you,” you say. “Just because I know everything about you doesn’t mean I want you to know everything about me.”

Spencer scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“My dad talks about you more than you think,” you say. “About your whole team—but especially you.”

“Where am I from?” he asks.

“Vegas,” you say. “He mentions it every time you beat him at cards.”

“That— that doesn’t really matter,” he says. “I know you’re from Fairfax.”

“The worst place in the world,” you say emphatically. You can’t believe you’ve been stuck in NoVa your whole life. “Doesn’t count, though. You’re an FBI agent—you’re supposed to know things like this.”

“So it counts when you know it, but it doesn’t count when I do?” Spencer asks.

You nod. “I’ve heard about Penelope Garcia. I’m more surprised you don’t know everything about me by now.”

“Me too,” he says. “Garcia can find anything. Gideon really did a good j—”

He stops in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he clamps his mouth shut.

“What?” You lean forward, looking him in the eye. “He did a good job doing what?”

“I don’t want to start another argument,” he says.

“Oh, poor you.” You don’t think you could sound more sarcastic if you tried. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my absent father that didn’t have time for me because he was too busy with you.” You glance away. “You don’t know what it feels like.”

“There’s something you don’t know about me then,” Spencer says. “Because I do.”

“Unless your dad’s ignored you all his life in favor of his job and the stray genius he found there, you really don’t.”

“My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mom’s schizophrenia,” Spencer retorts. His words get you to look right back at him—they’re not overly sharp or exceedingly soft, just matter-of-fact. “I haven’t seen him since. So you’re right—I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but I know a hell of a lot more than you think.”

Regret hits you immediately, sour and spiny as it settles in your chest. You’ve been an asshole to him this whole time, and all along he’s held this inside of him? All along, you’ve been accusing him of stealing your life from you when he’s lost more than you have.

For a moment, you can only stare at him, at a loss for words. He meets your eyes in equal measure. You might know a lot about Spencer Reid, but you’re quickly realizing you don’t know Spencer Reid.

“Guess we’re a lot more similar than you thought,” he says in your silence.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you murmur, finally managing to muster up words. “That’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.”

“No one does,” he shrugs. This time, he’s the one to look away. “But it is what it is.”

“How can you just say that?” you ask. You lean forward, a frown creasing your brows. “How are you not just— just angry all the time? That your dad doesn’t give a fuck about you or your mom?”

“For a while, I was.” He chuckles, but there’s no heart in it. “I was angry at everyone. My dad, my mom, the adults around me— I hated myself most of all. It’s part of the reason I was so good in school. I didn’t want to think about it, I didn’t want to deal with it, so I studied as hard as I could, read as much as humanly possible.” He smiles thinly at nothing in particular. “Turns out I’m very good at avoiding things when I want to.”

You shake your head with a scoff. “You’re a better person than I am. I would have hunted him down by now and given him a piece of my mind.”

“It’s not worth it.” Spencer looks back at you. “He decided he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to reward him by letting him ruin it when he’s not even here.”

Is that what you’re doing? Letting your dad ruin your life by letting him occupy every part of it even when he’s not there? He’s influenced every part of your life, every part of you, and he hasn’t been here for half of it. Sometimes you’re surprised he didn’t miss your birth.

Another flash of lightning, another crack of thunder. You tense every muscle in your body to stop yourself from flinching as hard in front of Spencer. You think he notices anyway.

“I’ve been angry at my dad since I was a kid,” you say once you’ve recovered. “He missed my dance recitals and my gymnastics meets and my soccer games, but he signed the checks for all of the payments. He told me to take honors and AP classes and missed the ceremonies for the awards. He was never there for anything that mattered, but—” you laugh again, and you blink back the tears— “but he waited until I was eighteen to get a divorce so I wouldn’t have to deal with a custody battle.”

You bite down hard on your lip to force them back even harder as you look at Spencer. “Isn’t that fucked up? Neither of them have been there for us, but they’ve still shaped every part of us with their absence. We can’t escape it even when they’re not here, because them not being here is what caused it.”

“I refuse to give him that much power,” Spencer says. “My dad left. He chose to leave. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I don’t want anything to do with him. I mean, I’m an FBI agent. I work with some of the best profilers in the world. I could find him if I wanted to, but I’m not going to waste my time chasing some pipe dream of a father that doesn’t exist.”

“Your situation is different, though.” Both his eyes and tone soften, and something inside you stirs. “The only break I know Gideon’s taken was that six month medical leave that was practically forced on him. I think it would take an actual, life-threatening injury to get him to take another one. It’s a lot different having someone around and just… being neglected.”

“I’ve just always felt like such an asshole for it,” you mutter. “You all save lives every day. You’ve taken down a thousand sick criminals.” You shake your head with another mirthless laugh. “My dad saves women like me every day, gives them the chance to see their fathers again, and I’m mad at him because— because he won’t meet me for brunch? Because he missed my school band concerts?”

“It’s not that simple,” Spencer says. “It’s never that simple. You don’t need to feel bad for hating him, but you also don’t need to feel bad for loving him, too.”

You scoff. “There you go again with the psychology degree.”

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Just because you feel rightfully angry doesn’t mean you don’t still love him. It’s part of the reason why you’re so conflicted about him.” He gave you a wry smile. “It makes everything a lot more complicated, doesn’t it?”

You shift in your bed. “Far cry from everything you told me before all this started.”

“We see completely different sides of Gideon,” Spencer says. “I’m just… ashamed that it took me so long to believe you about all of it.”

You huff a laugh. “I’m the one that should be ashamed. I thought you had this— this perfect life, with my dad loving you on top of it. That’s why I hated you so much.”

He perks up. “Hated? As in, past tense? As in, you don’t hate me anymore?”

You try to bite back your smile. You barely succeed. “Call it a truce.”

Spencer grins and nudges his glasses back into place once again. “This might be my favorite truce since 1914.”

“Christmas Truce,” you nod. “Good one.”

“You know it?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I’m a teacher.”

Spencer blinks. “You— you are?”

“Why is that such a surprise?” you ask.

“You’re so…”

“Mean to you?” You chuckle. “Trust me, I’m not like this with my kids. My job is one of the parts of my life that I’m actually happy with.”

“...Huh.” Spencer smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back, subconsciously. “You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure,” you nod. “Maybe you can tell me about everything you do sometime.”

“You’re sure you won’t get bored?” he asks. “You might not realize, but I have a tendency to rant.”

You laugh. “Part of our truce.”

This time, he nods. “Cool. That— that’s cool.”

You roll your eyes as you look away, but your smile betrays you once again. Your gaze snaps over to the lamp as it flickers back on, and you realize you haven’t heard any thunder in a while.

“Looks like the storm’s passed.” Spencer separates two of the window blinds with his fingers and peers through. You’ve never really focused on his hands like you do now—with the way you feel your face burn, it’s probably a good thing. You look away as soon as possible. “Just rain, now.”

“Good,” you say, and you let out a yawn. “All our talking tired me out.”

“Good,” he echoes as he picks his candle up from the window pane. “You should get eight hours of sleep a night, and I know for a fact you don’t.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, professor.”

“You’re the teacher here,” he says. “I should be saying that to you.”

“And yet you’re so much more annoying than I could ever be,” you muse.

“Does our truce include this?”

“Naturally.”

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. He starts walking to the doorway, but you speak up before he can leave.

“Night, Spencer.” You pause as you bite the inside of your lip, then continue before you can stop yourself. “I really enjoyed talking with you.”

He hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Then he bids you goodnight in the same fashion, actually saying your name. “I did too.”

It makes your heart skip a beat.

Spencer closes the door behind him, and you find yourself staring at the wood long after he’s gone. You jolt when you finally come back into yourself, and you shake your head to get out of the haze.

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, and blink when you realize it’s almost 1:30. You really do need to get to bed.

The smoke makes you cough as you blow your candle out, and you wave a hand around to dispel it before you turn the lamp off. You lay down and pull the sheets up around you. You end up having to switch positions at least five times before you start to get comfortable.

But the strangest thing is plaguing you despite your restlessness. You were freezing before the storm started, even when the electricity was working, but now there’s a strange warmth attempting to permeate within you. It almost helps you relax.

The room feels a lot smaller without him in it.

You exhale, long, slow, and deep as you close your eyes. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air.

You hope you don’t dream tonight.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #gideon!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #x reader #sadie writes #anyone that knows anything about george mason knows how upsetting it is that she went there instead of columbia LMAO #literally the most soul sucking commuter school

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dollracha · 2 days ago

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𐙚 just friends ⋆ l.f x reader

pairing: fwb! lee felix x gender neutral! reader genre: angst, smau, smut warnings: friends with benefits ⋆ no happy ending ⋆ swearing ⋆ special guests: bang chan & lee know ⋆ chan is called chris ⋆ vaguely written sex ⋆ riding (mentioned) ⋆ oral sex (male & gn recieving) ⋆ moody / mean felix ⋆ felix has an ex ⋆ felix is an asshole ⋆ short scenes ⋆ self gaslighting wc: 2.3k synopsis: becoming friends with benefits with felix wasn't a bad idea. that's what you convinced yourself when it started. nothing would change. (that was a lie.) request: hii is your request slot still open? if its not feel free to ignore my request. Soo Im thinking about fwb angst yk? Like maybe Seungmin or Felix. I would rly rly appreciate it if u did the request, have a nice day!! author's note: i wouldn’t call this full on smut but i did write some less descriptive sex scenes. the focus is more on the angst. also felix is mean. i said that once but i'm gonna say it again. (ps. there's no redemption arc pt. 2 because i actually enjoy the suffering of this.)

you always thought that most friends with benefits situations would be secret; that you’d sneak around behind your friend’s backs, careless yet careful to make sure they never found out. lee felix proved you wrong.

you’re out at the bar with your friends, he’s got his arm around you. after a few drinks, he’s suggesting you come home with him. or you’re at home on a saturday morning and he asks you to come grocery shopping with him, just for the company. whenever you’re out with your friends, it’s more likely than not that felix is at your side.

all of your friends know about your situation with felix. you used to be embarrassed, but that washed away quickly. you don’t feel anything about it, or at least you try not to.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“are you two together or something?” chris asks, his face twisted with confusion. it’s a reasonable question. felix has you pulled into his lap. he’s been fiddling with the pendant on your necklace for a few minutes. the two of you have been receiving looks from your friends, entirely noticed by you while felix remains unaware.

“no?” he drops your pendant, and looks at chris like he’s an idiot for insinuating it. “nobody has a problem when lee know hyung grabs your ass. but suddenly because i’m holding y/n everyone’s got a problem?”

“what?” minho doesn’t move as he glares at felix. ‘the audacity of this kid…’

“no one’s got a problem.” chris intervenes between them before it has the chance to escalate. “it was just a question, mate.”

felix practically shoves you off his lap to stand. you stumble as you try not to fall. “they’re obviously not my fucking partner.” he spits, and heads straight for the door. it stings. you know your dynamic, it’s nothing romantic. you’re just best friends who can’t keep their hands off each other. that doesn’t stop the hurt.

you look between your friends, and felix, and back again. “i’m gonna go make sure he’s okay.” chris shakes his head, but doesn’t say a word nor stop you.

you catch up to felix just before before the elevator door shuts. “felix,” he doesn’t spare you a glance. “wha—” he interrupts you. “—it’s bullshit. they’re all cozy with each other. no problem. that’s fine. but when it comes to me there’s a bunch of questions and shit?” he turns to you finally, posing the question and finally remembering to hit the button for the first floor.

“it was one question, felix.” you try to calm him down, it probably won’t work. he’s been very sensitive to the topic of relationships as of recent. “i don’t think chris is necessarily wrong for asking, and–”

“so you think he has the right to be in my business?”

“no. that’s not what i said.”

“then what is it?”

“you were a little rough. chris wasn’t rude. you took an unwarranted shot at minho. they’re our friends.”

“you’re my friend too and you don’t pull that shit.” anyone else would think he was brushing off your point, but you know he’s getting it. he’s reaching out to pull you close, and then the elevator door opens. he walks out first, and spares a glance behind him.

“come home with me?” he asks, and you nod.

“let’s go.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

he’s not always moody, but the 'what are we?' talk always manages to put him in a mood. most of the time, you two are just friends, who fuck each other on the side. nothing more.

that’s how it started. felix was a few weeks free from a bad breakup. he was pent up, needed to relieve the stress, anger and sadness bottled up inside of him. and there you were, sitting on his couch like a godsend. it started slow. he pulls you into his arms like he has many times before. friends, cuddling together. until it’s not. his hand rests on your knee, it slowly makes its way up your thighs. you only realize how hot his touch makes you feel when his fingers sneak under the hem of your shorts.

“can i?” he asks, his lips brushing against your ear.

a part of you (that, maybe, you should have listened to) tells you to say no. but you don’t. you nod your head, and for good measure, you say “yes.”

felix decides to try his luck further, his other hand grips your chin, and forces you to look at him. there’s a hunger in his eyes, like he’s ready to devour you whole given the chance. “can i kiss you?” he practically is, his lips brush against yours as he speaks.

you knew it wouldn’t mean anything. you always took felix as a romantic. the fact that he was so willing to touch you with no ado made everything clear: this was a one time hookup. were you using him, in his emotionally fragile, pent up state? was he using you? you weren’t sure.

“yes,” it’s another stupid decision, but it doesn’t feel quite wrong when his lips are against yours. when he kisses you with such need, such urgency. you lose all thoughts of moral, of rationale. all that matters is felix.

a few minutes of eager kissing is all he can stand. he slips his shirt off, and pushes up the hem of yours then hesitates. “can i?” again, you should have said no. you don’t.

“please,”

it’s a blur after that. he takes your shirt off. then it’s your shorts, your underwear. he makes you cum on his mouth. he’s reveling in the way you grip his hair, the way you moan his name like it’s the only one that you know. it makes him feel wanted, needed. like for once, in the past few months, he’s doing something right.

he’s got you itching to return the favor, to feel the weight of him on your tongue, taste him and feel as he hits the back of your throat. felix gets impatient. he grips your hair and fucks into your mouth. his cock hits the back of your throat and you tear up. he’s quick to soothe your tears, “i caused them, ‘s only right.” he says.

as he cums, he holds you in place. he looks up at the ceiling, groaning as you take his load. it’s not your name he moans. it’s his ex’s. it gets caught in his throat like a strangled sob–refusing to come out, yet refusing to stay inside. you both pretend it didn’t happen.

for now, it’s all he wants. you continue with your movie night as if nothing happened.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

it’s almost a routine now. you hook up at least twice a week. he’s always the one to invite you over. sometimes it’s a relief. you’re stressed about something going on in your life and he’s a perfect distraction. other times, he’s the one making your life harder. he’s begging you to come over late, and your problem? you can’t say no. you have the freedom to. you know he’d pout for a second, before telling you to sleep well and you’ll hang out later.

and when you do come over, which it’s unlikely that you won’t succumb to his request, he’s on you immediately. he doesn’t waste time stripping you, taking you to the bed when he’s patient, and the couch when he can’t wait another moment to have you.

one thing that felix doesn’t do, is mark you. he’ll kiss you with vigor. he’ll suck at your skin, bite at your chest, but it’s all done with just enough gentleness that your skin remains unmarked. you know, you check in the mirror like you’ll wake up one morning and discover his love lasts on your skin. it’s the disconnect between love and lust. if he loved you, maybe he’d claim you as such. he’d mark your skin with red and purple hickeys. he doesn’t love you. you know that.

you don’t love him as anything more than a friend. you should stop dreaming about things reserved for lovers when you’re just friends.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

sometimes, there’s a domestic bliss that settles between the two of you. It really has you thinking that you could be his. you’ll be in his kitchen, his hands are wrapped around your waist as you cook a quick, late dinner. his head rests on your shoulder and he sways you to the music you put on.

or you’re cuddling in his bed. he’s the big spoon and you’re the little spoon. he has a pillow propped over his arm, his other hand draped over your waist. you’re talking about everything and nothing, all at once. the weather. his childhood. your first pet. the weirdness of sourdough starter.

you know that the only love between the two of you is the kind friends share.

screw the kisses that are so sweet they make you think he’s in love with you. screw the way he moans your name now as he cums. the way he looks up at you as you ride him, something so hungry, so insatiable in his big doe eyes. screw way he holds you as you come down from your high, his hands stable and firm on your shaking hips. it keeps you from floating off into a realm, a universe where lee felix could actually love you like the romantic you’ve seen him be for everyone else he’s had in his bed. there’s no way any of it could be love. at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. if he hadn’t made it abundantly clear to everyone you know that you’re ‘just friends’, you might have mistaken the lust in his eyes for love. every lie becomes true once you repeat it enough. every hope, every desire gets crushed once met with the cruel fist of reality one too many times.

do you punish yourself with the facade that he loves you, or the facade that he doesn’t? either way, you can’t resist him. you can’t say no. he needs you. or is it you that needs him? who gets hurt when nothing was ever supposed to be at stake? if you’re an addict, lee felix is your drug, and you’ve not yet seen the consequences of taking too much.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

six months fly by quickly. six months of being friends with benefits with felix. to the date. it’s a normal day, though you don’t see him. you don’t talk to him. you haven’t talked to him since yesterday afternoon.

the only warning when glass breaks, is the fall. felix’s absence is the fall. the ‘ping!’ of a text message is the impact on the ground, the shatter into a million pieces.

you should have known better than to think it was going to last. really, what did you expect? felix to confess his love to you, rose petals on the bed and candlelight? every good thing comes to an end. whatever you had with felix was never an exception.

it’s not like you loved him, though. like you had that kind of fantasy. it just felt like a breach of your friendship for him to run back to his ex, and not say a word.

you can’t help the anger that takes over. felix was seeing his ex again? after seven months of being apart. he’s running back into those arms. it disgusts you, so much so that you feel your stomach churn. it makes you want to throw up.

you're crying and you don't even know why. there was nothing going on between you two. everything in the past few months meant nothing. right?

wrong. it was something. you couldn't quite explain it, but it was worth far more than going back to a shitty ex.

usually, when felix causes your tears, he's there to wipe them away. they're because of everything he's doing right. this time, it's all wrong; he's not here to dry them up either.

you know chris wouldn’t lie to you. you also know felix wouldn’t keep that from you.

or would he?

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burnforyou · 3 days ago

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FIGHT & MAKE UP - LUIGI MANGIONE x READER

!SUMMARY! a fight with your boyfriend, luigi, ends up causing you to be bent over the bathroom sink.

!WARNINGS! fighting, accused cheating (no actual cheating), a bit of crying, he's a little insecure, reader is sensitive, make-up sex (kinda public)

if you don't like this, don't read it.

“hey, lu...“ you approach him sitting on a kitchen stool with caution, the wound from your argument still fresh.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” he states curtly.

“please, we won’t settle this unless we talk.” you beg.

“well, i wanted to talk to you this morning,”

your stomach drops in realization, your heart aching.

“but you weren’t here. so i stalked your location and went to where you were, and of course, i saw you with luke.” he snarls, his voice echoing in your kitchen.

“we were just talking? I… i wanted his advice. i wanted to talk to someone else about it, get another opinion.” you cautiously place a hand on his shoulder. he stiffens under your touch.

“it’s always him, isn’t it?” he turns his head to lock eyes with you. his eyes are wide with expectation.

“no,” you pace in the kitchen and rub your head, a headache stirring. you stop and look at him. “this is a big misunderstanding.”

“no, i’m not misunderstanding anything.” he gets up from the stool and stalks up to you. you have to tilt your head up to look in his eyes, now dark. “i’m telling you as i see it. to me it looks like every time we have an issue you go running back to him. literally anyone else, anyone else, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

he loses himself in the argument and you see it in his face. he’s lost the color in his eyes, replaced with a darkness you've never seen before.

“i’m sorry luigi, i wanted his opinion because he’s a man and i figured he would try and understand your side too, and i’d get unbiased advice from him.” your ramble on and on, struggling to get him to understand you.

“in what world would you get unbiased advice from him?" the adrenaline courses through his veins, "he probably begged you to break up with me, called me a loser, an evil man, the whole thing!”

“no, that’s not what happened,” tears begin welling up in your eyes, but you don’t let them fall. taking his accusations felt like walking on broken glass.

he grasps onto your shoulders with a force that almost makes you fall back.

“you can’t see it? that he just wants to get into your pants? he just wants to take you from me?” he growls in your face. his eyes search your face for any inkling of an answer.

“do you really think i’d leave you for him?” your voice comes out as sharp as a knife.

he opens his lips to reply, but closes them before saying anything. he doesn’t have anything to say to you.

he drops his hands to his sides after they left red marks on your skin.

“really, luigi? really?”

you start backing away from him. disappointment fills your heart.

“and since you care so much, he didn’t tell me to break up with you. actually, he told me i should apologize to you. but now, i don’t think you deserve my forgiveness.”

every stair creates a creaking noise as you storm up to your bedroom. once you meet the bed, you're out like a light.

you blink your eyes open, feeling a hand caressing your face softly. you're met with a stricken luigi looking down at you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"can we talk?" he proposes carefully.

you sit up and lean back on your hands.

“you talk and i’ll listen.”

he takes a deep breath and leans down beside the bed and brings a notebook up from the floor. he looks down at the notebook and up at you again.

“i wrote down what i wanted to say, um…” he stammers off.

a smile threatens to grace your lips. it’s hard to stay mad at him, with his big brown eyes and little apology script.

“i’m sorry y/n. i didn’t mean to accuse you of cheating on me. it’s just.. my parents didn’t have the most, solid, relationship, as you know, and my father made me believe every woman would leave me. i’m really trying to break the pattern, to prove him wrong, to let you prove him wrong, but it’s really hard for me. but i am really trying for us, y/n."

"okay." you sigh.

"I don't mean to make excuses for my actions. I know what I said to you was wrong, and I'm sorry. for all of it, for the fight last night too."

you're weak. you're weak and you know it. you can't stay mad at him for anything. you climb into his arms and let him cradle you like a baby, his warmth engulfing you. "I'm sorry" you mutter weakly into his chest.

his thumb caresses the back of your head and he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

"i know. l'm sorry too baby." his voice comes out soft, his tender touches holding you to him.

you gave luke a hesitant side hug, eyes locked on luigi. he gives you a lazy smile and winks.

"thanks for having me," luke politely shakes luigi's hand and you take note of their size difference. luigi looms over him, not just in height, but size too. luigi makes small talk with luke as he leads him to the rest of where the rest of his guests are sat.

when you finally get a moment where all the guests are distracted, you sneak off to the kitchen, where you know luigi is hiding away. you lean against the counter next to him.

“why did you invite luke to your birthday party?”

“i wanted to…" he turns to look at you with a coy smile and your heart flutters. "get on better terms with him.” he watches your shocked reaction with satisfaction.

“wow luigi. that’s really.. nice of you.”

his lips turn up into a slight smirk that you catch. a sneaky suspicion he’s lying arises.

"that's not the real reason, is it?"

he crosses his arms across his chest and his biceps bulge in his short sleeve shirt. you bite your lip.

"you want to know the truth?"

"um, yes?" you reply like it's the most obvious thing in the world. he grips onto the counter next to you and leans over you, forcing you to look up at him. he leans down right next to your ear, his breath making the hairs on your neck stand up.

"I wanted him to see that you belong to me," he nibbles on your earlobe, "firsthand."

"you're joking." you bite your lip. he retracts from your ear, his signature hung smile lighting up his face.

"nope!" he says, popping the 'p.'

"and I thought you were being mature." you shake your head and roll your eyes with faux annoyance, trying to pretend like his words don't make you inexplicably needy. he leans into your neck again and presses hard kisses on the soft skin where your ear meets your neck.

"you know you like it." he casually reads you like a book. his slight scruff scratches your neck just the way you like it. "you know you've wanted this all day, prancing around here in this short skirt."

"lu," you whimper, quiet so the party-goers won't hear.

it was risky, but the rush, the adrenaline, the fact that luke could walk in at any second, it made you weak in the knees and left you aching for more.

he comes up and leaves his forehead against yours, eyes dark with need, pupils completely dilated.

"bathroom?" your heart pounds in your chest.

you shake your head, going against your own wishes.

"they'll notice we're gone."

"not if we're quick enough." he smirks, grabbing your hand. "come on."

he leads you to the downstairs bathroom and closes the door quietly after you. he presses your hips against the cold counter top and roughly pulls down your panties from under your skirt.

he wastes no time getting down on his knees, holding your ass apart with his hands, and playing with your already wet pussy.

"you want this bad?" he slaps your ass and groans at your reaction, jolting forward with a small gasp and a red mark appearing. his eyes meet yours in the mirror and he pushes a finger in you, still watching your reaction carefully.

"i want it now," you whine and stick out your bottom lip.

"look at you, so desperate." he shakes his head, pulling his shorts down enough to pull his hard cock out. he lines the tip up with your pussy and pushes his hips right against your ass, filling you up in seconds. your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, your lips completely dry.

as he thrusts into you, his thighs meeting your ass make loud, obscene noises that slip through the door.

you try and look back at him over your shoulder, but he forces you to look into his eyes in the mirror, bent over and fucking you desperately. "i'm gonna make this quick." he whispers into your ear, "look at who's fucking you this good."

you open your eyes and meet his dark ones in the mirror. instantly, his hand finds your clit and rubs it, adding stimulation. a moan flies out of you uncontrollably and you bite your lip to silence yourself.

"don't," he groans, "be loud f'me." he moans as you pulse around him. he smiles at you, watching your head bob as he fucks you braindead.

"could luke ever fuck you this good?" he asked with a rasp.

you gasp and he watches you struggle in the mirror with pleasure. he brings his other arm around your throat, his bicep now pressed against your throat. you try and shake your head but he just squeezes you harder.

"say it.” he growls roughly.

his cock kisses your cervix with every harsh thrust. your eyes flutter shut and your lower stomach bulges, heat growing with every movement.

"n-no,” you stammer, face red and sweat dripping, “fuck!"

"say my name.” you hold onto his arm and try and pull the weight off your neck, but he prevails.

"Luigi, please!”

"there ya go, that's it." he moans and slows his pace, grinding into you.

"say who you belong to." he slaps your clit carefully and your legs begin to buckle beneath him, body convulsing with pleasure.

"you, luigi. I'm yours." you purr and arch your back into him more, watching his eyebrows come together in the mirror.

"I'm gonna cum,” you whine, digging your nails into his muscles.

"cum baby," he demands, "make 'em hear you cum with me.” your vision fades to black when luigi thrusts into you as deep as possible, your skin meeting his with a dirty slap one more time. you buck against him, throbbing around him while he fills you. he quickly slips out of you and pulls your panties back up before any of his cum could drip out, forcing you to spend the rest of the party with his cum dripping out of you.

MASTERLIST - PREV. WORK

!TAGS!

@legendaryclancy @strawbrriess @bellobambino @f4nfic-lover @chmpgneprblem @soggysouppp @hereandqueer6540 @poohkie90 @miarosalie11 @v1rtualsalvat10n @hypnotizedbyhood @webanglikethat @croucify @cumdnmp @ga33y3 @zeervzn @marzipanlvr @seesaw-it @raekensluver @ddlydevotion @hujirose @babydollfacedangel @strawbxrryaxolotyl @bricapellan16 @darleneslane @uraharasfavoriteexperiment

#hey people #luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fanfic #luigi mangione imagine #luigi mangione fanfiction #my works #luigi x reader #luigi mangione smut #rpf #real person fiction #luigi mangione x y/n #luigi mangione x yn #request

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maple-the-awesome · 2 days ago

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Another Link Crushes On You || Part 2

Part 1 ||

Pairings: Legend, Twilight, Wind x GN Reader

Overview: You've known Link for years - Well, a version of Link. Neither of you have seen yourselves as being anything more than friends, although it seems not all Link's think the same, in fact when you're introduced to the Chain, one of the boys falls pretty hard for you. I spun a wheel to let fate decide upon random pairs this time. Needless to say, I had a lot of fun with some of them😁

Zelda Masterlist 💚 Fandom Masterlist

Legend isn't a big fan of Skyloft which is something he decided rather quickly upon arrival - and no, it has nothing to do with the cold, thin air or hair-raising heights, although he’s also not a big fan of either. His problem lies solely on the cheerful atmosphere created by this village’s inhabitants. It’s all too easy going and mundane to fit an adventurer’s heart. Too familiar and painful, to boot.

The others may think of him as aloof and, quite frankly, Sky might be a little offended, but Legend has no interest in exploring these islands or making friends with the locals. Never again. Instead of joining any guided tours or trading stories with inquisitive knights, he sinks into his own isolation, finding a quiet place to sit amongst the shore of Skyloft’s only large water source.

All by his lonesome, he’s free to find a good boulder to hide behind and tear away at his hair in a desperate attempt at calming his unsteady anxiety…That is, until he hears a sound - No, not a sound, a voice. A beautiful voice that doesn’t speak, but rather hums a delicate melody he’s certain he’s heard before, probably from Sky who has a habit of mumbling certain songs to himself while plucking his harp.

…And there you are, blissfully unaware of anyone else's presence by the lake as you approach the water's edge. Dropping a laundry basket in the sand, you carefully roll up your pant legs and kick off your boots, prepared to step into the cold water until you suddenly halt.

As if having developed some sort of sixth sense, you glance over your shoulder, quickly spotting the pink haired boy peeking at you from beside a boulder. The sight understandably startles you, yet despite how awkward this situation might look without context - what, to catch a total stranger apparently 'spying' from afar - you give him a kind, that be it nervous smile. People in Skyloft truly are too trusting for their own good.

"Oh hello there! …So sorry, I don't think we’ve met yet."

Legend sighs, realizing it would be creepier if he were to just ignore you. With his place of solace now ruined, he stands and dusts the sand off his tunic, "...That's because I'm not from around here."

"Oh?" You tilt your head cutely, likely confused as to what he could possibly mean, after all, where else would he have come from if not Skyloft? Looking him over, you take notice of his outfit, “Are you a knight? I see you have the uniform of one.”

The angel on Legend's shoulder begs him to be honest, after all there's no reason not to be. Naturally, Sky seems to be pretty well known around Skyloft, so maybe you wouldn't be too surprised to learn your local hero has become ensnared in another adventure, bringing home a handful of other heroes. You might even find Legend more interesting if he were truthfully, awed by the rare chance to meet someone outside of your own timeline...yet staying true to his own bad habits, he decides to dig his own grave instead:

"...Yeah, I’m a knight. I'm just usually really busy, so that's probably why you haven't seen me around, you know,” He explains boldly.

You furrow your eyebrows while finally stepping into the water, taking a handful of clothing items with you, "...Huh...I still could've sworn I knew everyone here, what, with the island being so small and all."

Legend cringes. He can't tell if you're simply speaking on your confusion or slyly catching him in a lie, although the uncertainty isn't enough to deter him, "W-Well, I don't live 'here' exactly. I live on one of the...outer islands - And I spend a lot of time there instead of here which would make it easy to miss me."

You give him a strange look that feels as if it could burn right through him, however you fortunately turn away before his heart can ignite, "...May I ask your name?"

"My...name?" He blinks as if that’s the strangest question you could’ve asked.

"I just feel a bit rude for never having noticed you before, but if I were to learn a name to put to the face, I doubt I'll ever walk past you again without a smile," And oh, how deadly your smile is, flashed over your shoulder so innocently, yet those eyes - They hold mischief behind them.

"My name is Li - Ravio. That's my name," Another needless lie...

"Li Ravio?" You repeat, not looking very convinced, "That's certainly...a name, alright."

"W-Well, I didn't pick it!" Yes, yes he did...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense. It's a unique name, that's all, but that will make it easier to remember," You laugh at his misery, your eyes crinkling with the action. You then introduce yourself, your name sounding vaguely familiar, although Legend's in too much of a daze to think of why, "It's nice to meet you, Li Ravio."

He bites back a grumble, already regretting his life choices up until this point. Seriously, if he was going to give himself a cover name and story, couldn't he have picked something a little better? You probably think he's a weirdo, just showing up out of the blue with some half-assed backstory that sounds totally fake - Wait, what does he even care? It's not like he knows you! You're a random civilian from a timeline that comes generations before his own. If he wanted, he could march off and never see or think about you again...but does he want to?

Despite his previous desire for isolation, Legend remains standing there dumbly in the sand, entranced by the song you go back to humming while carefully scrubbing away at your laundry. You take no shame in your singing - which is good, because there's no reason to be. You sound nothing short of holy, and quite honestly, you match the look, practically glowing in the beams of sunlight. Even your movements are graceful, so much so that as you wade out of the water, you hardly disturb the water lilies around you.

"Where'd you learn to sing like that?" The question slips before Legend can help it, but there's no taking it back. You stop mid-step onto the sand, eyes quickly darting up to look at him in surprise. It's as if no one's ever been smart enough to give you that compliment before...or perhaps no one has ever sounded quite so astonished while saying it.

"My cousin and I sing every evening at the Lumpy Pumpkin," You explain, bashfully tucking a strand of hair behind your ear after dropping your laundry back into its basket and picking it up, "You should come by sometime. It’s on an island south east of here - Very cozy, and a great place to get to know new people, too.”

"I'll, um...think about it,” Legend answers awkwardly with a cough. Will they even be staying in Skyloft that long? How would he even get to another island, especially without anyone else following - Wait, why is he even considering this?!

You seem to have lost some of your cheer. Perhaps that wasn’t the exact answer you were hoping to hear, however Legend, once again, has no way of taking it back.

“...Well, I, um, should get going. These clothes won’t dry themselves,” You mumble, gesturing to the basket you keep against your hip. Without waiting for any goodbye, you make your way up the shoreline, only stopping temporarily to shout over your shoulder, “Oh, and Li Ravio? I should probably tell you that Link was looking for you earlier! He wanted to make sure all you boys knew not to get too close to any edges! It’s quite the fall!”

Legend doesn’t respond, too stunned to form words as you chuckle to yourself before skipping off on your merry way. So you were aware of his lies the entire time!

Faced with tired bones and a sinking sun that plummets the world into night, the Chain has no choice but to call it a day (not that they have any objections towards rest). They practically collapse where they stand, taking a few greedy minutes to catch their breaths before picking up the work once again.

Setting up bedrolls, sparking a fire, organizing supplies, and chopping vegetables, the heroes are kept active for a decent hour or two until they can take another breather. Gathered around a wonky circle, their conversation is light and mostly focused upon their hunger which is only fueled by the pleasant smell of soup until it can be dished out.

About half the boys have bowls in their hands before a sudden snap of a twig causes them to trade their meals for weapons, senses on heightened alert especially when a stranger soon steps out of the shadows. At such a distance, the fire's light only barely outlines their silhouette, but that’s apparently all it takes for someone in their group to realize this is no actual stranger who's stumbled across them.

Hyrule's face lights up as he exclaims your name. Your own reaction is quite similar, switching from caution to excitement within the same second that you remove the hood from your head. The way you both move to greet each other, holding the other's arms with bright smiles and disbelief is quick to calm the other heroes. If you're a friend of the wary traveler's, then you'll be a friend to them.

"I thought it was your voice I heard from the trail, but then again, I haven't heard you in ages! And to find you in such a large group of companions? Never before! Where have you been for all this time, old friend?" You seem to go through several emotions all at once - a steady flow from relief, confusion, sorrow, and joy. Hyrule is hardly any better.

"It's a long story, but I haven't exactly been around to be seen," When you give him a bewildered look, he’s quick to brush it off, "I'll tell you all about it some other time - Hey, why don't you join us for dinner? There's plenty to go around!”

Your eyes instantly widen as you wave your hands in front of yourself, your smile suddenly strained, "Oh, no - no thanks! That's a kind offer, really, but I, um, ate not too long ago -"

"- Pss! He's not the one who does the cooking here," Someone whispers. At that, your shoulders visibly relax.

"...Oh...Well, uh, now that I think about it, it was really more of a light snack earlier. I suppose I could stand to eat something more."

Hyrule beams at this, clearly happy to have someone he knows so well stick around even if only for a night. It's then that he finally introduces you to the group, explaining that you're a fellow traveler he often crossed paths with during his own adventures. Seeing how dangerous this time can be, you had a habit of sharing supplies, camps, and stories to feel less alone in the world, so it's no wonder that you'd be so relieved to see each other safe again.

"Mind if I sit by you, stranger?" You ask, peeking around at Twilight while Hyrule grabs you a bowl of soup. Despite your tired eyes and worn expression, you still manage a friendly smile that causes the rancher to nearly choke on his spoon.

With a cough and blush, he scoots to the side, probably making far more room than you actually need, "...Not one bit."

"Thanks!" Fortunately, you don't seem to think anything of his reaction as you gratefully take a seat nor do you take any notice of the way he steals another curious glance at you.

Seeing as you're a new face within the group, it's only natural that you become the center of attention. Questions are thrown your way left and right, many interested to know your story which you modestly tell with little fanfare. Apparently, you've been a traveler for the last few years, wandering from place to place while making a living off trading the resources you collect throughout your journey. Before then, though, you used to live at your family's ranch.

"You grew up on a ranch?" Twilight asks a bit too eagerly once the topic's mentioned, earning himself a lot of strange looks including one from yourself, although you at least seem more forgiving than his friends, quickly letting your confusion go with a gentle nod.

"I did - For most my life, actually," That's all you say before going back to stirring your soup which you're thankful not to find any bone fragments in.

"What made you move on from that life?" Perhaps it's an out-of-line question a gentleman shouldn't be asking, after all he's no more than a stranger to you, but learning a pretty thing such as yourself may have a similar background to himself makes him forget all manners.

"...It was destroyed by monsters some time back," You answer simply while taking a bite.

Twilight bows his head, shame burning inside, "...Oh. I'm real sorry to hear that."

Despite his fears of having caused offense, you merely shrug off any discomfort, “My family made it out alright and we make do with what we have now. Can't go complaining about that."

"...I'm from a farming village myself - From Ordon,” He goes on to tell in a quiet ramble, “I’ve worked there as a ranch hand practically all my life, overseeing the goats we’re famous for. It’s quaint, and about as far from the big towns as you can get, but homely. And the people there - Why, I don’t think you’ll find anyone more kind and welcoming. Like livin’ in one big family.”

Once again, this probably isn't something he should be saying. If it were him, he'd be beyond distraught to lose the ranch to the point that any reminders would send him spiraling, yet to his continued good fortune, you take his story for what it's meant to be, setting down your spoon with a comforted smile.

"I'd love to see that…" Orondian, how you enchant him with such a soft gaze, taking him hostage in the sea of your sparkling eyes. If Hyrule's tales are any indication for the horrors of this broken world, you must be a true diamond in the rough to be from a place so cruel. Any less personal control and Twilight wouldn't hesitate to ask you to join them - to come along on this adventure and see how beautiful life will someday be. He could take you to Ordon and show you all he’s come to adore - let you breathe the fresh air scented like hay and pine while overlooking the familiar green fields you’ve dearly missed. Who knows? Maybe you’d even ask to stay.

“I’d love to show you…”

"...Is this still a group conversation ooor?" Wild pipes in awkwardly from Twilight’s side, seeming to speak on everyone else’s discomfort as the poor, stricken young man loses himself to this yearning in his heart. This might be a long night and an even longer day tomorrow if they get stuck listening to him fawning over you...

You’re starting to doubt this shift will ever end…

It feels like you’ve been stuck in here for hours with nothing to do aside from sit at the counter and beg the sun to set just a little faster. You've already restocked inventory twice, organized stock to perfection, and swept the floor until your broom broke…If this keeps up, your sanity might just break, too.

Ringing from the front door’s bell gives you at least something to do as you sigh your typical greeting: "Welcome to Gia's General Store, where we have all your - LINK?!"

With a complete shift in mood, you happily leap up from your stool and race around the corner to meet your friend halfway in a tight embrace that you've both gone far too long without, "It's been ages! How have you been? Where have you been?"

Four chuckles at your eager questioning, "It hasn't been that long."

"Really? Because I swear five years have passed from this shift alone…" You groan dramatically before breaking away from the hug to get a solid look at him. Despite the months that have passed, he looks no different than when he had first set out. Good. You like him just the way he is anyway.

"Please tell me you're planning on sticking around for a bit. I’ve been dying for something interesting to happen around here and your stories are just the salvation I need! I only have an hour to go until I can close up, though I'm afraid I might stab myself with a fire arrow before then. It’s been terribly boring!”

That, Four doesn’t doubt. Your home village is as serene as they come which isn’t always a favorable trait in the judgement of two teenagers with more energy coursing through their bones than they know what to do with. Of course, he’s probably done no good helping matters by always filling your head with envious dreams of adventure and mystery.

“We’ll probably be spending the night in town,” He tells you, much to your relief, “In the meantime, we have quite the list of supplies that we need to restock on, if you don’t mind.”

"We?" Somehow you only just notice the group of young men who managed to sneak into the store after Four. A few of them are already looking around at the items you have to offer, while others wait patiently with the hope that they'll be introduced to...Well, whoever you are to their dear friend.

"I would introduce everyone, but we all share the same name."

"All of you?" You look at Four in shock, yet he nods as if it's the most normal thing in the world to him...Then again, it probably is at this rate. Honestly you shouldn't be that surprised yourself. This is Link you're talking to.

"...Huh...Well, feel free to have a look around, I guess, and let me know if you need anything in particular. Arrows are buy one get two free right now, and fully in stock, too, since Link - Er, this Link, hasn't been in town to buy us out,” You explain to the group, jutting a thumb towards Four who rolls his eyes.

Now, usually you become a bit overwhelmed whenever large groups enter your shop, but seeing as these guys are Four's friends, you feel comfortable letting them wander freely. It helps that they seem to know exactly what they're looking for, too, making your job all the easier.

For the most part, the group allows Four and you privacy to catch up, only interrupting your conversation occasionally whenever they have questions about your prices or the quality of your goods, however you aren’t blind to the curious glances they spare you even in silence. No doubt they’re wondering how deep your relationship with Four goes, finding it endearing how at peace the young hero has become in your simple presence.

Most of these glances are quick enough, although you can’t help noticing that one of the boys seems to lack the same subtlety as his friends. Each time you steal a peek through the corners of your eyes, you spot him staring in your direction with an awed look overtaking his face. Whenever someone else nudges him to ask a question, he blinks rapidly with a stammer before bashfully looking away.

‘Cute…’ You’re tempted to think, but then you take notice of how young the boy seems to be. He must be at least a few years younger than Four and you - still a just child, at least by your standards which is an upsetting thought since context clues point to him being a hero, too. If that’s true, that must mean he was as young as Four was when he first set out on all this hero business himself, if not even younger. Poor kid…

Soon enough, Four confirms your suspicions about his traveling companions’ identities, telling you all about the strange portals they’ve traveled through and the journey they’ve been on up until this point. It was mere hours ago that they found themselves this close to home and, well, he couldn’t bear to pass by without seeing you or his uncle.

“Smart. I would’ve been livid had I found out you were in the area and didn’t stop by,” You elbow Four who pushes you back with his shoulder playfully before suddenly glancing behind you. Following his attention, you find the youngest hero standing there shyly, a minish feather necklace in one hand and a small pouch of rupees in the other.

Wind startles, seeming to have not expected your turn, “I, uh, wanted to know how much this was - um, is…So that I can buy it, if I may - for my little sister!”

You notice Four hiding his smirk behind his hand, yet you elect to ignore him for now, instead giving the younger boy your full focus with a kind smile, “How sweet of you. Consider it on the house, kid.”

“R - Really?” He brightens with possibly the widest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“‘course. Think of it as payment for helping my friend here find his way home safely.”

“Wow, thank you miss!” Oh goddesses above, his smile is adorable! He reminds you of the village children who often come here seeking sweet treats, such a simple delight to create lasting joy in their hearts. How you wish you could return to those days yourself - to no longer bear the weight of the world and its troubles in your thoughts. Alas, you could never so skillfully rewind time, but at least you can help protect that same innocence in others, even if only for a moment.

And protect it you do. Even late into the evening, Wind still cherishes that necklace in hand, carefully inspecting its details while kicking his feet giddily in memory of you, the pretty shopkeeper from Four’s Hyrule.

Sure, it probably isn’t that big of a deal. You gave the entire Chain a rather generous discount on their supplies despite their protests, but he was the only one who received your kindness personally without having to share. No one else aside from Four had the joy of seeing your beautiful smile directed his way, your expression soft and comforting like a warm breeze on the summer’s beach.

He hadn’t lied. He does plan on giving the necklace to Aryll once this journey is over, but until then, he’ll probably admire it a little longer, at least until this crush of his settles within his heart.

#x reader #reader insert #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe #legend of zelda #lu legend x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu wind x reader

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lynzishell · 1 day ago

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Prev // Next

Transcript below the cut:

Iris: What are you doing?

Asher: Taking a break. Trying to get… inspired, I guess. Iris: Does that work? Asher: Sometimes.

Iris: I met someone. Asher: Oh yeah? Iris: I think he might be… nice. Asher: I can’t tell from your tone. That’s a good thing, right?

Iris: Is it? Asher: Yes. Nice is good. Iris: I don’t know. Doesn’t it get… boring? Asher: No. Being kind and considerate is how you show someone you care about them. It’s not boring.

Iris: Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that it works for you, but I guess I’m just the type that needs passion, y’know. Asher: Passion? Or drama? Iris: [rolling her eyes] You know what I mean.

Asher: No, I don’t. Nice and passionate are not mutually exclusive. You don’t need to be screaming and throwing shit at each other to have passion. The sooner you realize that, the better. You don’t exactly have the best track record for healthy relationships. Iris: Oh, and you do? Asher: Honestly, yes.

Iris: Please. You and your husband have separate rooms. Asher: So what? We’re under a lot of stress right now, and it’s overwhelming for Atlas to be around so many people all the time. He needs his space, and as his husband, I understand that. Iris: And that’s very kind and considerate of you. But can you really tell me there’s any passion there? When was the last time you two even slept in the same bed?

Asher: That’s none of your business. Iris: Exactly. Asher: [rolls his eyes] How did this become about me anyway? Aren’t we supposed to be talking about you and some guy you met? Iris: Yes.

Asher: Well, don’t string him along and play games with him just to ghost him when you get bored. If you’re not interested, then just walk away now. Iris: No. I don’t want to do any of that. I think I like him. Asher: So, what’s the problem? Iris: [shrugs]

Asher: Iris. Iris: What? Asher: If you like him, then give him a chance. Don’t self-sabotage, okay? You deserve to be with someone who is nice to you. Iris: …Thanks.

Iris: How do you do that? Asher: What? Iris: Always know the right thing to say.

Asher: Easy. I just think about what you would say, and then say the opposite. Iris: [laughs] Fuck you. Asher: I love you too.

Iris: You’re gonna be a really good dad. Asher: See, you’re learning already. Iris: Shut up. Asher: I’m kidding. Thank you, that means a lot.

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #the goode life #sims 4 challenge #starsignchallenge #starsignlegacychallenge #gen1 aries #aries pt5 #asher goode #iris goode

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timmydraker · 20 hours ago

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Okay but Tim with aspd who doesn't really feel love the way his family or friends do, he does care for them - because they're *his* but he sees them as possessions.

I am by no means an expert but here’s my take on this:

I think the biggest part of this would be jealousy? Like, not just the whole dragon hoard mentality thing, but they’re his family and he doesn’t want that to change.

Like, he’s fine with them having friends and partners and all that, but after Damian comes in and eventually gains his ‘approval’, maybe Bruce starts to pick up that maybe he shouldn’t be having any more kids come into the fold so deeply.

It could be him meeting a recently orphaned kid at a charity and he sees Tim, not so much glaring and angry, but looking scared and heartbroken. He’d probably assume it’s because he recently lost his own parents, but then Tim hesitantly asks him if the kid is going to be moving in with them and while he and an excellent poker face, Bruce is Batman.

I think he’d want constant assurance that they love him and want to be around him, but all it takes is a few days or even hours apart and he starts to tell himself they were lying or changed their minds.

His response to this is that he has to ‘fix’ it, whether by talking to them or by moving things around so he can see them more, like time tables or family dinner.

But on the opposite end, I think he’d totally forget to offer the same love. Purely because I’m his kind they are his family, they’re his people, y’know? Why wouldn’t he care for them? He needs words of affirmation to know he’s actually wanted there and he is not intruding, yet just assumes that if he wants to not deal with them for weeks or months at a time, that’s completely normal.

He’s not selfish, he genuinely wouldn’t see why that is a problem because he’s made sure they want him there when he gets back and they’re his family so what’s wrong??

Naturally, Bruce and Alfred would pick up on it first and help him understand through logical reasoning and thinking without making him feel like he’s broken in some way.

#batfam #bat family #dc comics #tim drake #batfamily #dc universe #dc #tim drake is red robin #tim drake is a menace #ASPD discussion #ASPD Tim Drake #mental health discourse

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skylarsblue · 1 day ago

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❁Love & Deepspace❁

Incorrect Quotes - 1 (Divider by @elfbar-baby )

Sylus: Why do I make them so uncomfortable? MC: They feel your methods, your theories are…. Sylus:Spooky? Sylus: Do you think I’m spooky? MC: I think you're silly. Sylus: Silly? MC: Silly goose even.

(Event minigame) *tower LEANS, but doesn’t fall*

Rafayel: >:3 MC: ARE YOU KIDDING?! THAT’S UNFAIR, YOU MADE T- I need to calm down. Rafayel: …(Name)- MC: Everything’s fine. I’m an adult.

- Zayne, genuinely concerned: How’s your head? MC, with a headache: Well I haven’t had any complaints yet. Zayne: …excuse me? MC: Hm? Oh! Uh- I think I’ll live.

- Caleb: You need to eat. Here, an apple a day keeps the doctor away. MC: …I’m allergic to apples. Caleb: What? No you’re not? Since wh- Zayne, appearing: Caleb: THE FU-

- *phone ringing* MC: Ugh- Wh- hello? Rafayel: Text me. *hangs up* MC: *looks at phone* What the fu-

- (OOC but shh) MC: Yeah I’m gonna try and stay out of drama, focus on work, be a better person- Tara: Guess who got caught sucking dick in the bathroom. MC: Who?! *falls out of chair*

- MC: Now is there a problem? NPC: No I don’t want no problem. MC: Yeah that’s what I thought. *steps away* NPC: walkawaylilpunkass- MC:*holds up microphone* Speak up, I couldn’t hear you bitch.

- Zayne: And what’s your reasoning for killing three people? Caleb: I mean, shit, I’m a Gemini! Sylus: I understand completely. MC:No!

- (I don’t hate Caleb but my partner does and it’s super funny)

Caleb: *sigh* Rafayel: Do you ever shut the fuck up? Zayne: What’d he do? Rafayel: Bitch gon’ breathe. Zayne: He stays doing annoying shit.

- MC: Did you drink my juice? Caleb: Yeah but i didn’t know it was yours. MC:…bitch my name. Is on. The bottle. Caleb: …🏃🏻‍♂️ MC: GET YOUR ASS BAC-

- Tara: What’re you all dressed up for? Where’re you going? MC:, going into snapshots: I’m taking selfies.

- Caleb: *enters* Rafayel: Ah hell- See I thought I was gonna have a happy day today, but then you walked in. Zayne: What did he do? Rafayel: Exist. Zayne: Why would you do that to him? Caleb: I JUST GOT HERE-

- Sylus: Okay, you’re driving pretty good. Luke: I’ve been practicing!- Sylus: But if it start raining dicks which way do you swerve? Luke , trying to remember which gear to shift in: …what?

- (IM SO SORRY AHAHAAH)

MC: Babe I just want you back- Tara: *hits stereo button to play track* MC: PSYCHE BITCH! I don’t want’chu, fuck-a you and your grandma too bitch what the fuck is up- Caleb: ?????

- Caleb: S-say it again. MC: No way José? Caleb: That’s right! WHO is José? MC: Babe it’s just a thing- 6th LI: Andale- Caleb: WHO THE FUCK IS HE-

- (Im so so sorry)

Teacher!Zayne: Pop quiz guys. Greyson: I don’t even know any of the answers- Zayne: Okay, we’ll start with an easy one. Whose wife cheated on them January 22nd? Greyson: Uhm, is it- Zayne: MINE!

- (This how quick some of y’all switched by the way)

Caleb: *holding book in the air* Haha! MC: C’mon give it back! Caleb: First you gotta say my name- MC: Alright, big daddy. Now come on give it b- Caleb: ….my name Cale-

- Sylus: You’ve been in your room all day. Kieran: No earlier I went- Sylus: You’ve been in your room all day. Kieran: …earlier I- Sylus: Don’t talk back.

- MC:Hey grandma- Granny: Can you get in the oven to clean it? MC: …….bye grandma-

- Kid: Ms.Hunter I think there’s a wanderer under my bed. MC: Hun, there’s no wanderer’s under your b- *looks* Wanderer: LONG DICK STYLE- MC: pulling out a gun: Okay, we’re leaving.

- Sylus: RAFAYEL, What, what is this? *holds up belt* Rafayel: That would be a Louis Vuitton belt, Syl- Sylus: Have you lost your mind- this is a Gucci household, gill-boy.

- MC:So you been spying on me? Caleb: I mean I was but I’m not a spy- MC: You know what they call people who spy on people? SPIES Caleb: Oo bars, but look I’m not-

- Sylus: Today’s a good day to get out of the house. Kieran: See I- I can’t fly yet. Sylus: That sounds like a you problem. Kieran: I- I’m yo s- Boss.

- MC: That’s why yo dick little- Caleb: BITCH YOU KNOW MY SHIT DETACHABLE…put the wrong one on, shit-

- Sylus: Bitch I can sing. Rafayel: Bitch sing something. Sylus: *crow caw* Rafayel: Bitch you can’t sing. Sylus: Bitch you’re right, shit-

- Zayne: Do you know where the bathroom is? Caleb: Yeah, go straight down there andsuckadick- Zayne: Pardon? Caleb: I said you gotta go straight down. Zayne: ...alright- Caleb: andIhopeyoudiewhenyougetthere. Then make a left-

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folkwhoreberry · 2 days ago

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I've a request for Percy Jackson as punishment for you deleting your drafts, something where Percy does little things for the reader? For example, drying her hair after she gets out of the shower, putting food on her plate, small and simple things, but things very cute😊↕️🤍

Mr. Jackson To Your Service

percy jackson x reader

or... the one where you’re obsessed with capri sun

word count : 969

warning : none omg who would believe that, english is not my first language!!!

🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🍓🌙🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙🍓 🩵🌙🍓🩵🌙

🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊🔱🌊

lunch time.

who would’ve thought that getting hundreds of hungry teenagers with powers in one place is a good idea?

either way, it is what it is and you’re not planning on starving. but fate has other plans for you, like having the scary ares kids standing in front of your favourite food, blocking your path.

and that’s how you ended up sitting in a corner table with percy, your plate only carrying a few pieces of veggies with a side of capri sun.

“why don’t you have anything on your plate, angel?” he asked, his brows furrowing in confusion as he saw how little food you had on your plate. “uhh, ‘m not really hungry.” you mumbled, tossing one of the veggie pieces around your plate with your fork.

percy tilted his head, his lips curling into a playful smirk. “not hungry? I thought I saw you eating an entire pizza two days ago, no problem. what happened to that appetite of yours?”

you shrugged, poking at the broccoli. “I guess today’s just one of those days.”

he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, “are you sure it’s not because you’re avoiding the ares kids? I mean, you did seem pretty eager to steer clear of them.”

you snorted. “it’s not that bad, percy. they’re just… uh, intimidating. doesn’t help that they think they’re better than everyone else.” you took a sip of your capri sun, trying to act casual.

percy raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “right. I’m gonna go get you something, angel.” he said, getting up before you can even react, leaving you sitting there, your face dumbfounded.

after a few minutes, he came back with a plate full of pasta with the white sauce, and yet another capri sun. just like he had promised.

——————

after the long day of activities, you finally made your way back to your cabin, completely drained. after a quick shower, you wrapped yourself in your towel and stepped out, only to see percy waiting in the hallway, leaning casually against the wall.

“you okay?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when he noticed your wet hair. “need a hand with that, princess?”

you rolled your eyes, but smiled. “really? you’re gonna stand there like you’re some kind of hair stylist?”

“well, I mean, I have a lot of experience handling water,” he said, gesturing toward himself. “being the son of poseidon and all. so, yeah. I think I can help.”

you raised an eyebrow. “are you seriously gonna dry my hair for me?”

percy gave a dramatic sigh, as if you were making him perform some kind of great sacrifice. “I mean, I guess I have no choice now.” he paused. “unless you want to go to bed with wet hair. then I’ll leave you to your doom.”

you giggled, rolling your eyes again, but agreed. “fine. do your worst, seaweed brain.”

a few minutes later, you were sitting on your bed while percy wielded a hairdryer like he was in the middle of some grand mission. he was being unreasonably serious about it, and it took everything in you not to laugh at his overly focused expression.

“you know, percy,” you said in an exaggerated voice, “I feel like I’m in the presence of greatness right now.”

“you should,” he said without missing a beat. “I’m literally the best at this. I should add ‘professional hairdryer wielder’ to my resume.”

you couldn’t help it anymore, bursting into laughter. “you’re ridiculous.”

he grinned, proud of himself. “and don’t you forget it. all in a day’s work, saving the world and drying your hair. I’m a multitasker.”

when he finally finished, he gave a small bow, proud of his work. “there you go. all set, angel.”

you looked at your reflection in the mirror, surprised at how good your hair looked—no frizz, no mess. percy had somehow managed to do a better job than you could’ve hoped. “wow, you’re actually good at this.”

“told you,” he said, giving you a playful wink.

——————

you were heading to mr. d’s office to complain about something when you spotted percy walking towards you, looking way too smug for his own good.

“what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle wrapped in twine. “I made something for you.”

you took it from him, unwrapping it carefully. inside was a tiny wooden necklace, the pendant shaped like a trident with delicate waves etched into the surface. it was small but thoughtful, and your heart skipped a beat.

“percy, you actually made this?” you asked, your voice soft.

“yep. I thought it might be… kind of cool? and, you know, I’m getting pretty good with a knife.” he scratched the back of his neck, his usual cocky grin replaced by a slight blush. “I know it’s not the best thing in the world, but… I thought you might like it.”

you were completely speechless for a moment, your heart swelling. “percy, it’s perfect. I love it.” you carefully slid the necklace around your neck, admiring it for a moment. “thank you.”

“well, you know… anything for you,” he said, his voice softening, and for a second, he looked so uncharacteristically sincere that it made your heart flutter. “I’d do anything to make you smile.”

“you already do,” you whispered, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “yeah, angel? I do?” he said with a smirk, making you him and nod.

“well, what else can I do to make you smile, m’lady?” he teased, putting one of his hands behind his back as he held your hand in his other, bowing down jokingly as he gave you a kiss on the back of your hand, just over your knuckles.

“mmhh.. get me a capri sun.”

————————————————————————————

a/n : hi hello I am currently craving capri sun but unfortunately it costs 0.5$ and I do NOT have that kind of money to spend in the school cafeteria💔

#folkwhoreberry #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n

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prettieinpink · 12 hours ago

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CONFRONT, PROCESS, HEAL ♡ྀི

For everyone who has goals for 2025 to heal <3 This post is very general, so even if you think it won’t apply to you, I would still recommend skimming through it to see if anything stands out! This is a vv long post :) like 2.5k words so beware, and feel free to ask or debate anything

CONFRONTING

TAKE A MOMENT. In the heat of the moment, it can be difficult to regulate our emotions, in which it's harder for us to process what is the right thing to do. Confronting problems with overwhelming feelings, will most likely lead to us doing the less than ideal action.

So whenever you are in a position in which your emotions are getting the best of you, fully distract yourself. Do whatever you want, as long as it just shuts your brain off.

Then when you have cooled down, you don’t have to tackle it right away. I find that will just bring them back up to the surface again. Go at your own pace and when you are comfortable starting to process everything.

IDENTIFY EVERYTHING. When a lot of people say this, they mean naming your emotion and what's happened to you. I think that's a very close-minded perspective, and in order to comfortably heal, we need to be aware of all factors that may have contributed to what has happened.

For example, consider the environment, your upbringing, their upbringing, your actions, their (possible) thoughts, your attributes, their attributes etc. I know I'm a big person for not obsessing over people as it just takes away energy from what you could be putting back into yourself, but this isn't an obsession. This is you stepping away from everything and looking at the situation with a third person perspective.

ACKNOWLEDGE IT. Another thing is that you have to acknowledge that this is your reality. I know a lot of us struggle with this, as when we’re faced with reality, we escape. Through various methods like maladaptive day-dream or just subconsciously blocking out the memories from our mind. It's okay for you to have a big reaction to it, but I definitely discourage downplaying it or ignoring it.

Part of acknowledging is understanding that in some way or form, you will have to look back on whatever happened in order to truly get past it.

I also struggled with this, when I sit myself down, and I'm like, ‘this is the life that I’m living’, at that point you kind of realise that constantly escaping instead of acknowledging will do more harm than good. I'm saying this because the self improvement community sometimes encourages ‘ignoring’ everyone and everything which doesn’t go your way, which I don’t believe is good for your emotional health at all. Those emotions from those experiences will eventually catch up to you if you’re constantly running away from them.

GAIN CLOSURE. If you happen to be in a situation in which it's appropriate to reach out to people who you just don’t understand their actions or what happened, then do it. Getting that closure makes it easier to let go of the situation.

If your circumstances are more complicated than that, I would roleplay. It sounds so weird, but it is just as effective. There are two ways you could go around this, the first method would be asking a friend to be xyz. It helps if they are someone who knows a lot about this situation.

If you don’t feel comfortable telling someone all this, or maybe you don’t have someone to roleplay with, you could use chat GPT. Tell it your situation, the kind of people involved, their personalities and any other relevant information. I am anti-chat gpt, but I feel like the usage of it in this situation is for good.

ACCOUNTABILITY. Even if you feel like you are the most perfect human being ever, its quite possible that you may have unknowingly or unwillingly played a hand in whatever happened to you. Of course, this will not apply to all situations.

It doesn’t even have to be accountable for others’ people's actions. It can be accountability to yourself e.g ‘I saw the signs that xyz would do this, but I ignored it’ or ‘I’m sorry to myself because I allowed them to disrespect me’ or ‘My actions may have compelled them to act that way towards me’. Accountability is a two way street.

PROCESSING

EVALUATE. Now that we’ve identified everything and hopefully gained some closure, evaluate the whole situation. You can do a video diary, journal or talk to a friend about it. Since everyone’s situation is going to be so different from each other, I can’t really give much advice about it.

However, I would say, go really deep. Like, it has to be questions which make you uncomfortable to answer. If they’re too easy to answer (especially without deep thought), then you’re not digging as deep as you could go. Here’s some questions to get you started! Please do tweak where needed, as I did make these to be very general.

Was this situation a reflection of my upbringing? If so, how are the two connected?

Were the perpetrator(s) doing this out of pure immorality, or could there be other factors that may have contributed to them doing it?

Was I in a position in which I could’ve avoided or de-escalated the situation? Were there signs that this would happen?

Have I not healed completely from any situations in the past, and my pain from that made me carry on the same behaviours?

Is this an emotion or situation which I’ve been avoiding? If so, why?

What would forgiveness for people who have wronged me look like?

Did I or my community handle the situation ideally? What differences could have been made? Would those differences really would’ve affected the outcome of the situation?

Has this situation affected your thinking process, specifically when being in new environments or around new people?

These questions are not a one-size fits all, so once again, tweak to your liking. If you would like more personalised questions, I would go to chat GPT.

MOURN. This is your time to wail, scream, go absolutely crazy because whatever happened, still affected you. Everyone’s mourning will look different, and their reasons why will be a lot more diverse.

I would recommend doing an activity that is high energy. I don’t mean physical activity, so if writing poems angrily is what lets you get that steam out of your system, I fully support it. And, there is no time limit whatsoever. Of course, I encourage you at one point to pick yourself up, but if months is what you need, months is what you shall get.

Quick little disclaimer, please don’t do anything crazy that will harm you. Like overworking yourself physically, binging, not eating enough meals, lashing out at everyone etc. While it is a period to mourn, do it in a way that is actually beneficial to you.

SOLUTION. Just because a situation or problem is ‘over’ doesn’t mean it's been solved. While this may not apply to many problems, I think some people need to hear this: You need to make the best of what you have. I know it seems so unfair that xyz has happened to you, and there is no worse feeling when you see people who’ve wronged you thrive in life or you imagine who/what you could’ve been if xyz didn’t happen to you.

However, you have your options. You absolutely have to make the best of what you’ve got instead of dwelling on could’ve or what ifs. A solution to whatever will not be a one size fits all. For some people, it may be applying to a new skill class, having that one difficult conversation, finally going to therapy or maybe saving up money for anything that will help. I would define a solution in this instance as anything that creates or supports long-term and permanent growth to most areas of life.

I used the word growth specifically because a lot of solutions to your problem(s)are not easy. It may feel uncomfortable, but that's why we call it growth. This journey will absolutely not be linear, and the easy way out may not be the best way out.

For example, I really want to move schools. I’ve been in the same school since year 2, and I feel like this environment may have stunted the growth of who I could’ve been. The easy solution would’ve been to move schools, but my parents are kind of blocking that. Instead, I decided to look for new areas to grow. For example, my blog! I also put in a lot of effort into my academics at this school, because I know that I would love to study abroad and that's another solution. Another solution for me could also be joining a new club. You see where I'm going with this?

OUTCOME. Something which I wished that someone had told me way earlier, is to ask yourself, what is the ideal outcome after you get past this? You may be like, isn’t that like what everyone says? But what nobody actually says is that your outcome will may be far from ideal.

A part of this journey is understanding that this situation will always be a part of you, regardless of how much or little it has shaped you today. A toxic belief that I had, is when I would get past it, I would be unstoppable. I would know exactly what to do, in whatever situation, and whenever I revisit it, I never feel anything. This is so detached from reality, and a huge part of processing everything, is to understand what you want to achieve.

I feel like the reason why I believed I would be unstoppable, is because youtubers etc really love to promote that as soon as you turn around your mindset, you’re good to go. You will never have to suffer again in life, because your mindset is so ‘good’. Your mindset could be so polished and it could actually not bother you at all, but your body will keep the score.

You are not going for perfection, you are aiming for progress. Here are some ideas for goals/outcomes you want to achieve, feel free to tweak, choose multiple, or add more.

Reclaim what trauma has taken back from you.

Recover your self esteem, hope, or ability to connect with other people.

Process whatever that has happened so that It doesn’t haunt you.

Releasing yourself out of survival mode.

Develop healthy coping mechanisms.

HEALING

CREATE A SUPPORT SYSTEM. Your support system will consist of people who you can trust to be vulnerable around. They will help you get through it, and will almost be like your second brain which you can use from time to time. Since they didn’t experience themselves (or maybe they did), they could offer new perspectives or advice that you wouldn’t consider due to the impact on you.

If you are someone who doesn’t have the resources to create a support system, have a support place. Have somewhere where it's all rainbows and sparkles, and whenever you go there, you release everything. I know there’s not a lot of third spaces around, but I would recommend parks, libraries, someone else’s house, churches, youth centres or community centres. I would recommend taking something in which you can communicate to yourself in some way.

CREATE AN EMOTIONAL FIRST AID KIT. Adding on to my last point, grab a little pouch or box and put things that will calm you down. For example, written affirmations, a prayer, reminders, lollies/candy, list of activities that you can do to calm down,a colouring book with markers, a comfort book or perhaps some money so you can get yourself a nice little comfort meal or a sweet treat.

I'm suggesting this because in the healing process, you will break down completely at least once. I find that its more likely to happen if you’re not going at a pace that is comfortable to you, and it kind of just catches up to you all again. This first aid kit will be essential to not doing anything that we will regret or falling back into unhealthy coping mechanisms.

EDUCATE YOURSELF. Not a lot of people have easy access to therapy, and I'm aware of that. However, education of whatever happened to us (regardless of how big or small) helps you to understand your experiences and it actually becomes empowering at some point that we have the knowledge of this and how it impacts us, as that knowledge makes it easier to work through it compared to doing it blindfolded.

While therapy is my first suggestion as its a lot more personalised, however like I said, not a lot of people have easy access to therapy. This is when I would encourage watching documentaries, youtube videos (i would be careful with this one–, i would avoid any ‘gurus’), and read articles or books.

Whichever way you choose to educate yourself, actually take notes. I’m quite serious, it could be digital or physical notes, but at least write down anything that resonates with you. Then after you’re finished writing those notes, you’re going to treat it like its your homework. Review what you wrote down, break it down into a way that fits your situation, explain why it resonates with you, and the steps you can implement from today to make a change.

It doesn’t stop there. Weekly, I want you to actually look back on these notes and see if perhaps your opinion has changed and if you’re actually implementing the changes into your life. It seems a bit ‘extra’ but, simply just consuming media for the sake of it, will do nothing!

EXTRACT ALL SOURCES FROM STRESS FROM YOUR LIFE. I mean all. It doesn’t even have to be cutting off people sometimes like telling your mum that you love her but she’s too overbearing, creating a career master plan if not knowing what you’re going to do in the future stresses you out, tidying out that drawer that you’ve been neglecting etc.

You want to make this journey as easy as possible for you. The best way to start is to make a list of everything that burdens you. Put the list on one side of the page. Then on the other side, you can list the ways you could change any of these things.

If you’re in a situation that something stresses you out, but you can’t easily let it go, my best recommendation is to create a solution to it instead of extracting it completely. For example, my job stresses me out, but I need the money, then I would talk to whoever is in charge to help support you better. It seems scary, but asking will put you in a much better position than simply shutting up while screaming internally.

NOURISH YOURSELF. You’ve probably heard it, but I'm going to say it again, and an unhealthy lifestyle will support an unhealthy state of mind. Go out into nature, drink water, do brisk walks everyday in the sunlight, get your daily fibre and have a healthy sleep cycle.

Doing this in itself will help you become happier over time, but that is only if it becomes second nature. You will not magically renew after drinking 1L of water once, but you will feel the difference after doing it everyday for a month.

SPIRITUALITY. People who have and practice strong core beliefs, are a lot happier. You get to define what spirituality means to you, because it doesn’t necessarily mean joining a religion. It could mean being really in tune with nature or it could be mindfulness everyday to get in tune with that side of you.

This one is a bit more controversial, because I don’t believe that you should join a religion out of traumatic events, but because you actually want to. So, while I do encourage you exploring that side of you, make sure you’re doing it.

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pe11e-0hlinsrealsou1mate · 2 days ago

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I actually don’t like @jokinglydarkish and I think a least a few people can agree with me.

It’s pretty fucking obvious that they like Pelle and not just Pelle but Øystein and I don’t love Øystein but some of the art they make really pisses me off and here’s why.

Godbrother? Bro you gotta be shitting me. Saying stuff like “thanks for the inspiration” isn’t bad but GODBROTHER?! Dude you never even met the guy. And I know some of you might say “Bro just leave her alone 😩”, listen, if I said something normal for once and I said the same thing yall would flip the fuck out.

“He means a lot to me.” 😐. Ofc that pisses me off but FUCK it’s really annoying. You already know what I’m gonna say and how I’m going to go ON about this but, tbh it’s pretty fucking obvious that she likes him.

“I feel really good about how WE (her) could interact with Pelle.”, She is basically me but without the hate, she basically is saying she loves Pelle without saying she loves Pelle, so she makes these tiny hints like this and more, and she uses her art so people don’t really give a shit because if the art is good then no one cares.

The headcannon you have about Pelle in your head is that Pelle loves curly hair… and you have curly hair so it’s not really headcannon it’s just one of your little fantasies about Pelle playing with your hair. I could draw a photo of Pelle sleeping on me and say “Headcannon appeared in my head that Pelle accidentally falls asleep on ‘other people’.” When really it’s just one of my fantasies about him but I just reword it so it doesn’t seem like I like him so it isn’t really a headcannon it’s just one of your fantasies.

And I know what you’re gonna say, “It’s just someone sharing their personal problems and you shouldn’t make fun of that.” I’m not making fun of it, it just pisses me off. When you put stuff on social media people WILL make fun of you or have a problem with it no matter how important the post is and how dear it is to you, and no matter how many times you say “you shouldn’t be rude to others online” people will still be rude no matter what, it’s always been like that and it’s most likely not gonna change, and if you can’t handle it then just don’t post or delete the app.

But anyway, back to what I was saying, it’s pretty obvious why I don’t like this but I honestly wish I didn’t hate this because I know people have certain celebrities that that are comforting to them but I kinda don’t give a fuck.

That’s all I have of them that makes me mad but I think it’s REALLY obvious that they like Pelle and maybe Øystein. Like I said, if I made these same damn posts y’all would shame me so bad and say I’m cringe but when someone else likes Pelle and they make stuff like this people don’t care. Also if anyone has a problem with me making this post, fuck off, I can make posts like this if I want to, it’s my opinion and I just hate this person and I KNOW some people that do hate her too. I also tried not to make any threats like I usually do which is rare. I have been contemplating if I should have made this post but I decided I will.

#sorry not sorry #pelle ohlin #per yngve ohlin

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glowstickblood · 1 day ago

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Sure I'll bite, what are your thoughts on Nightwing?

HOLY F U C K

You do not know what you have just done <3

So first of all, I was a teen titans kid: specifically StarFire. She was my home girl, she was an alien existence with strange customs and unique way of speaking and she was sweet and had trouble understanding others and I was obsessed. And…. She likes Robin, aka Dick Grayson, the OG.

Back then, Robin was cool but he wasn’t my favourite, but it was the first time I can really recall him catching my attention,, mostly because he had Kori’s attention and I loved Kori.

Honestly I didn’t really get into DC much. I was a Marvel prefereer for a while (<- lies, I just liked spider-man like literally everyone else) and though I had heard of the batfamily before in passing (an animation YouTuber I liked did some stuff for them once or twice) they didn’t mean much to me.

For me it was Batman and Robin,,,, and Robin was Dick Grayson.

I don’t really remember how it happened, but I do recall somewhere 2ish years ago that something prompted me to go searching for Nightwing’s Wikipedia page.

Now those of you NDs know what happens when something catches your attention in that oh-so-very-peak way and you enter what I like to call Stage 7.

I, no joke, read every single wiki article and post I could find anout Dick Grayson for 24 hours straight. I didn’t sleep, I barely ate, and I don’t remember anything other than the endless hunger for knowledge until I inevitably collapsed.

So,,, why?

Well honestly it’s rather complex!

I don’t talk too much about myself online, mostly because I don’t feel much of a need to, but I’m sure you can glean a few things: mostly that I’m a 1st gen immigrant with autism, asexuality and a enby identity (just like half the population on tumblr lmao) and that gave/gives me a whole cocktail of fun issues and perspectives of the world.

I’m not sure how much you know about Dick’s story or personality, but simplifying it down to a single sentence it would probably be this: An endlessly angry child has forged himself into a kind and charismatic hero for the sake of other people.

He is angry, and bitter and fighting so goddamn hard to be kind. He is overtly sexualised by people in-universe and in-fandom. He gives away all of himself even if he doesn’t realise he does. He is on a never ending journey to meet, match, and exceed the expectations placed upon him even to the detriment of himself and others. The bar grows ever higher.

People have an unconsciously bad habit of comparing ourselves to others and it is generally agreed upon that to live a healthy life you will have to spend the entire time fighting against that habit. The fight never ends as we never stop interacting with each other, but it does get easier with time. This pinprick point of tension is a core element of a lot of the stories told when it comes to Nightwing interacting with other characters, and a running theme throughout my own life.

For a very long time I competed against the world, against my family, against my friends, against the characters in stories I was told, basically everyone. I was the underdog, I was always fighting, and soon enough I was winning just as much as I was loosing. It was fun and it made me miserable because no matter how well I did the was always another person was better. I was never the best, I couldn’t be, and I hated myself for it… Until I realised the standards I held myself too so loudly and proudly started making my friends miserable too.

(To be honest I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop trying to raise the bar for myself higher, but I sure as hell know better than to make that other people’s problems. It’s an ongoing WIP against a very human flaw in myself, just as it is for Dick.)

Another element of his character that appeals to me is the anger; specifically that he is not seen as angry much anymore.

As a character his anger is justified. It is righteous even. The world took from him, hurt him, and continues to challenge him even now. He has every single reason to be bitter and full of rage,,, and he is! Except also no he isn’t.

The general current interpretation of Dick is as a playful and kind older brother figure.

He is flawed sure, but in a way that makes him more ‘approachable’. He is the comforting Robin; He’s the one you’d go to after a breakup to cry and eat ice cream or to go gush about your favourite hobbies to. He is the mediator of the batfamily, managing the emotions of both himself and others (especially Batman). The endless bright burning rage has been buried beneath a soft exterior, he has sanded down his own edges. He controls and seems to give away just enough to make him feel grounded, but never enough to feel like he’s truly known.

One of the worst part about growing older for me is how terribly easy it is to understand other people now. Rarely do the people who hurt us the worst want to do so, the villains of this world are seldom (if ever) people you meet in real life. It’s so fucking easy to hurt each other. It’s so fucking easy to blame people when they hurt you. To make monsters out of molehills.

And yet!

And yet…

I understand. I wish I didn’t, but I do. I am so very very angry, but my kindness is a thing with teeth I tamed with love, and it eats my anger for breakfast.

The way I love and he loves, in my mind, is the same. I understand and he understands in a way I want too, and it’s so easy to let people hurt us because of that. Depending on the version you’re reading of him, maybe that person who hurts him is a super villain, or a friend, or an obliviously obtuse civilian or even the batfamily and Batman himself (Spyral, WFA Joker arc, Grant Wilson, Tarantula, being Batman during the Bruce lost time-stream arc, all of Jason’s existence, etc.). Either way, same outcome: you love and care for people who hurt you and are flawed.

Nevertheless, Dick Grayson, aka Robin, aka Nightwing, has been around for more than 80 years now. His story has been told hundreds, thousands, millions of times. It’s been twisted and shifted and re-told all over again. And while his tenants core stays the same (save for a bad writer of course) he gets different lighting for every occasion. Playing and talking about him is more flexible in a way a lot of characters with a single cannon source (I.e. books and movies) are not. His existence gives me a lot of room to play and project.

He can be the good big brother, the proud leader, the angry teenager, the betrayed son, the beautiful idol, the grand hero, or any mask the story requires him to play. That flexibility is within the core of his very character. He loves, he is angry, he is so terribly inhuman in all the best ways he is not, and I love him because of that.

TLDR: He is relatable to me and I fuck with that <3

#this ended up being more about me and my relationship to the character than I expected #whoops #honestly I could talk more #but I kind of frantically wrote everything while on the train back from class #sorry for any typos #but yeah #Nightwing is my boy #love you baby #nightwing #dc #batman #ramblings #infodump #dick grayson

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broidobe · 2 days ago

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𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔩𝔤𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔞

requested! this is a part two of sore thumb which is linked below

☾bill and the reader spend time together in study hall, with the reader helping him with math homework while they flirt and bond over shared interests, leading to a budding connection☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚sore thumb

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

the next day, you walked into study hall to find bill already sitting at the back of the room, his usual spot by the window. his leather jacket was thrown over the back of his chair, and his homework was spread out in front of him, though he seemed to be staring at the paper more than actually doing anything.

you made your way over, your bag slung over your shoulder. he glanced up as you approached, a surprised look on his face. "you again?" he asked, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

you grinned. "yeah, i’m starting to think we might be study hall buddies now."

he shrugged and scooted over slightly, making room for you. “don’t expect me to actually help with your homework,” he warned, his tone a mix of teasing and genuine concern.

“who said anything about homework?” you replied, sitting down next to him. “i’m just here to make sure you don’t fall asleep before class ends.”

bill rolled his eyes but didn't protest. he glanced down at his paper, then back at you. “fine. but if you're here to make fun of my math skills, i'm leaving.”

“math? oh, no, i’m not that cruel.” you took a look at the sheet of numbers in front of him. “but you could use a little help.”

bill gave a defeated sigh, pushing the paper toward you. “i don’t get it, alright? this stuff just doesn’t make sense. why do we need to know this?”

you smiled softly, scanning the problem. “it’s just algebra, bill. think of it like a puzzle. you just have to figure out the pieces.”

he leaned in a little closer, clearly intrigued despite himself. “a puzzle, huh?”

“exactly.” you picked up your pencil and started walking him through the steps, pointing to each part of the equation. “okay, so first you need to isolate the variable, which means moving everything around to get the ‘x’ by itself. like this…”

bill watched you closely, his usual guarded demeanor slipping a little as he followed your explanation. his hand fidgeted with the edge of his notebook as you worked through the problem. “okay, i get that part. but what about this one?” he pointed to a different question, his brow furrowing.

you glanced at it and smiled. “let me guess, you’re stuck because of the fractions, right?”

“yeah, how’d you know?” he asked, sounding impressed.

“because fractions are evil,” you said with a playful grin. “but i can show you a trick to make them easier.”

bill chuckled at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “you really think fractions are evil?”

“i do. they're just unnecessary drama in an otherwise perfectly good equation.”

“you’re kinda funny,” bill said, his voice softer than usual.

you looked at him in surprise. “you think so?”

he nodded, a genuine grin spreading across his face. “yeah. i didn’t expect you to be this… cool.”

you felt a warm blush creep up your neck at the compliment. “well, i’m glad i’m not as bad as those people who throw your lunch tray on the floor,” you said, teasing lightly.

bill’s smile faded for just a second, his eyes darkening with something close to bitterness. “they don’t know what they’re talking about,” he muttered, but he quickly shook it off. “anyway, i’m not a fan of math, but you’re making it a little less horrible.”

you chuckled and nudged his shoulder gently. “well, you’re welcome. maybe i’ll even let you buy me a coffee for this tutoring session.”

bill’s eyes widened a little, clearly caught off guard. “i—uh, i don’t know. i’m kind of broke.”

you smirked. “i’ll settle for you being nice to me. that’s all the payment i need.”

his smile returned, warmer this time. “deal. so, uh, you wanna hang out after school tomorrow? i mean, if you’re not too busy.”

you couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face. “i think i can make time for you.”

bill’s green eyes sparkled, a mix of relief and excitement behind them. “cool. it’s a date then.”

you hesitated, feeling a small flutter in your chest at the word. “it’s a date,” you agreed, glancing down at the paper and brushing your shoulder against his as you continued working on the math problems together.

#broidobe #guns and roses #axl rose #axl rose x reader #axl gnr #bill bailey #axl rose imagine #axl rose fanfiction #izzy stradlin #pre fame axl rose

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eclipsellium · 1 day ago

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Why I hate the pomodoro method.

You’ve probably seen someone suggest the Pomodoro method before— you do short sprints (typically 25 mins) followed up by a quick break (typically 5 mins).

I don’t like it, and I will never go back to using it. Don’t get me wrong, it can work really well! My sibling only gets anything done if they use this method, so there is something good about it. However, I’m going to talk about the downsides and what else to do instead of this method.

1. It focuses on time spent rather than results.

Many tasks are quite flexible in how long we take to complete them. Take walking home for example. When I am in a rush to school, it takes about 20 mins uphill, but my legs cramp really bad. When I’m just listening to my music and vibing, it takes about 30 mins downhill.

It's a similar idea for studying. Apply pressure on your learning and assignments, and they get completed faster. Too much pressure, you get exhausted or can’t think straight. (HINT: Procrastination). Too little pressure, and it takes forever to get anything done.

Different results require different amounts of time and pressure.

Trying to strive for a specific time frame undermines what your true goal is: to get some something done. The repetitive cycle assumes a “one size fits all” but that is rarely ever the case. Saying “I studied for two hours today” means nothing compared to “I wrote my essay, read a research paper, and annotated my notes from yesterday.”

2. It discourages focus and flow.

When I was trying out the method, I kept trying to find the ideal time for work and for breaks. The problem is it's never the same. Some days, you are more mentally exhausted and need longer and more breaks, otherwise you are just going to be miserable.

As it is, the five-minute break isn’t long enough to go on a short walk, take a dedicated snack, or fully disconnect. It’s a waste of time that taunts you with distractions that aren’t conducive to a good work environment.

The opposite is also true. Good days can be rare, so when you get into the zone, there’s no reason to come out of it for anything other than a natural transition. A ticking timer to your productivity doesn’t help, and breaking up that “flow state” isn’t maximizing your time or your efforts.

I also haven’t heard many people mention stamina. If you are in school and taking tests, you realize they are typically around the same length (90 - 120 mins where I am). The pomodoro method contradicts this. For a lot of people, focusing and doing your best on a test for such a long period of time can be difficult.

Oh, but that’s just life.

Maybe a part of it is, but you can take steps to improve your stamina during test taking. Spending upwards of two hours studying or taking practice tests, especially leading up to huge exams, can make the test fly by. Simulating test conditions is also a great way to study or increase pressure, which is what long term study periods achieve. Taking longer study periods also relates back to breaks. With the same amount of break time, you consolidate it into a greater block. You can grab a snack, watch an episode of your favorite show, take a walk outside, or do your hair. All fun stuff you can’t do with pomodoro.

3. It brings technology back into the equation.

If you’re using pomodoro method, most likely, its on your computer or your phone. Which means you have to have a device in reach and visible (for work on paper) or be constantly switching tabs (for work online).

Distractions are a huge part of this modern age, which means that you could inadvertently be teasing your mind with a computer game or social media or whatever you enjoy. Even if you don’t give in, you *are* losing focus.

Forget the clocks, forget the devices, forget the notifications. It’s so much easier to be productive if you have nothing else to do and no distractions to take you away from something that, at the heart of it, you enjoy. Because if you hate studying, why are you still reading this??????

This is really long so I’ll make another post about different study methods next week.

#studying #studyblr #academia #high school #study motivation #stem student #study day #student life #student #i need to stop procrastinating #procrastination #pomodoro technique #pomodoro method #study hard #study blog

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4lexnilsen · 21 hours ago

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“poppy wrong? and you expect me to take you seriously? i thought we’d left the whole let’s make fun of this person’s name thing in middle school, but apparently some of us stay bullies forever.” shaking his head and grimacing in disgust, alex feels utterly repulsed by helena’s behavior, even more so knowing what his best friend had been through. how can it be that the same person who keeps talking about kindness stoops so low? “or, here’s a wild concept, she doesn’t actually hate you. this whole problem is one-sided, and it’s a you problem, helena. poppy doesn’t call you names or make fun of you, and here you are insulting her for no reason at all. what gives you the right to judge her like this? you barely know her.” he catches a glimpse of her glassy eyes, but instead of making him want to sympathize with her, all it does is… bring in a fresh wave of annoyance to the fire already burning inside his chest. his jaw set, temples throbbing. “you’re giving me a migraine with these conspiracy theories.” fucking brat. spoiled little bitch.

“yeah, fuck me. hey, maybe that’s your problem. you just need a good —” fucking, but what’s left of his stoic nature refuses to say it out loud. the word hanging in the air between them, anyway, “and harry won’t deliver so you’re taking the frustrations out on poppy. is there a psychological term for that, too?” since she loves to throw this whole psychological bullshit in his face. “that’s another difference. i don’t give two shits about what my father thinks of me, not all of us are bound to our daddies by their money. is there a punishment for bad words at your house? are you not going to spend the winter break in the maldives if you drop one more bad word?” something snaps inside of him and he can’t remember the last time that happened, must have been years and years ago. maybe when his mother died and he told the nurse who came to console him to fuck off. hadn’t happened once since then… well, up until now.

“i’m a — a what? a narcissist? how am i a narcissist? do you even know what that means? and i’ve never once shat on you, helena. i don’t know what scenarios you’re coming up with in your head, but they’re crazy.” the biggest asshole. it makes him want to rage because he’s been nothing but kind to her, always present, always supportive. hell, he even tried to befriend that aggressive dog of hers. “WHAT LIES?! i’ve never lied to you! i’ve never lied to sarah either. my head’s about to explode. pull over. pull over, i’m getting out. i’m not listening to more. this is like — i’ve never done drugs but THIS is something that puts LSD and acid to shame. what a trip.” she’s certifiably insane, he’s convinced. she’s the one belittling other women, calling poppy an idiot and making fun of her name, accusing him of cheating, saying he’s a bad person for having other friends… she deserves her own TLC show at this point.

“a sad broken little boy. yeah, right… whatever makes you feel better, i guess.” he just huffs and rolls his eyes, squeezing her phone between the seat and his backside, his other hand grabbing the hand brake. not yet pulling, but threatening to do so if she doesn’t stop the car. “go ahead, say it. tell me how growing up motherless made me heartless because i refuse to play along with whatever script you’ve written for us in your head.” teeth sinking into the inside of his cheek, chewing on the tender skin there until there’s blood on his tongue to keep himself from saying more. quenching the sudden urge to just slap her across the mouth for it. but that’s exactly what she wants, isn’t it? she wants to provoke him, wants him to be the bad guy and do something terrible. little miss perfect needs some sort of a thrill in her life. “you’re fucking insane…” he breathes, laughing hysterically at the silly allegation. her name should be spelled differently — HELL-ena. she’s a demon…

“for the last time, honey, because i don’t think you understand what i’ve been trying to say. there’s nothing wrong with sharing a bed with your friend. maybe you’re one of those women who can’t keep their hands to themselves, but poppy is like a sister to me. i would never let her sleep in the car or go somewhere else when we’re supposed to be spending time together, and there’s this king-sized bed in the room. we’d also shared a tent before, guess what happened? absolutely nothing because we’re two adults who respect each other’s boundaries. insane, i know.” he refuses to let got of the steering wheel even as she pinches his thigh so hard that he’s crying out, smacking her wrist with his other hand and telling her to fuck off and pull over. “you don’t know shit about driving! i want to get out. i’m getting out. i said stop the fucking car or i’m gonna stop it! you’ve lost your fucking mind. i’m calling 9-1-1. or animal control. whoever’s willing to take you.”

“really? because you got such a fantastic knack for being the poppy WRONG defense team.” helena yells, brows furrowing in disbelief. “of course she wouldn’t lay a hand on me… she’s too scared, she’s the type who can say a bunch of things but can’t say it to someone’s face. she’d be an idiot to say it to my face.” doe eyes roll at the royal ignorance he’s spewing. he can read a million books, but he’s obviously still just a man with a dumb man brain at the end of the day. obviously no book could ever give him the knowledge on what it means to be a real one. eyes stinging with livid tears she’s unable to control, street lamps blurry from hurtful tears clouding her vision until she blinks them away at the realization he’s been making fun of her.

“fuck you.” gripping the steering wheel tighter, digging her claws into the leather. sharp manicure would love to claw his face. when she starts cursing, he shouldn’t be making fun of her, he should be shutting the hell up and realize he’s pushed her to her dangerous limit. that’s his mistake. “what would your daddy think about it? not very amish and christian of you.” poking fun at him, see how he likes it. since that’s what ohio is about, right? amish cultish weirdos and bible thumpers. they worship god in her household too, but not in an abusive way. it’s not like her to stoop to other asshole’s level, but this time… this time is an exception. he’s pushed her to the absolute deep end to be equally as ugly and nasty. when she were younger— she used to sit and stay quiet when people hurt her feelings, but that’s over with and she’s finally growing into her person. “you.” who’s been treating her like shit. “you’re a liar. and a narcissist. and not a true friend, if you have to defend one and shit on the other. and pretend this is ALL in my head. i’ll show you the proof and then you’re going to look like the biggest asshole that YOU ARE once i get it.” he wants to call her crazy, but she’s just smart. and if he thinks she won’t make it a mission to trick poppy to get the solid proof, even if it’s been right in front of him, he’s so wrong about her. “‘oh, you’re crazy helena for saying the truth and calling me out’. that’s such a typical asshole male response, calling women crazy when we see through your lies and because we’re not hollow shells. but we’re just ‘crazy’ because we have emotions and we’re not heartless creatures like you men so we have to be BELITTLED for it by being called “crazy”. THAT’s what is crazy. you’re just a sad broken little boy.” that’s what he is, like most men… something miserable just lives inside of him. “if you have back problems, then you should stop screwing your friend, i’m sure that doesn’t help matters.” she sasses off instead of addressing any part of that sentence, because it’s all garbage anyway. “it’s disrespectful and gross, sleeping with another woman while you have another at home. i wouldn’t shared the bed with you, i would have just slept in the car or went somewhere else.” the only way it’d be acceptable, is if both parties had terrible romantic partners. that’d be the only exception. but clearly, sarah isn’t abusive or anything since alex continues to stay with her and speak highly of her. “what do you mean,” asking confused, “I’M DRIVING?? are you DENSE? that’s what you said to do. so that is what i’m DOING, DUH.” going to sarah’s location like he said!? “what’s the problem?! who’s the control freak now??” how hilarious of him to freak OUT, just as she predicted. “give me the phone back! i REALLY can’t miss the cars on the road if you’re hand is on the steering wheel! LET GO OF IT!” grabbing his thigh, pinching the hell out of it to make him let go of the steering wheel as they quickly get back up on the interstate and he’s causing her car to swerve in and out of her lane too much. “i know how to drive! fuck off!”

#batheir #me: mom n dad :')))#helena: narcissistic asshole #alexander: spoiled lil bitch #me: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#they so off script atp

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