#until I find out if I’m dyslexic for sure and there’s a way to help that with other languages. I’m not going to pay for Babbel yet

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

I don’t get why people feel like the Duolingo owl is threatening, if I ever feel like he is I just get mad at him. I could fight an owl. I don’t know if I’d win, but I don’t think I’d lose (two things that can apparently coexist). I think I’d survive at least and that’s not really winning but also not losing.

You wanna be so threatening? Da bør du drepe meg!

[gyusfavlibra]

MY BROTHERS PROTECTIVE BEST FRIEND

Johnny Suh x afab Reader! Ft. Brother!Mark

WARNINGS: +18, sex, smut, unprotected sex, language, fluff, maybe angst if you really consider. Fingering, grinding, sexual language!

Word count: +1k

Proofread: yes finally! Although I’m dyslexic so my grammar might suck🫣

…………………………………………………..……………………

“Mark! Give me my fucking earbuds!”

You throw down the large pillow you had just been holding from the queen sized bed inside your bedroom. You just got home from a long day of college. Ready to chill out, listen to music and finish up some school work. Considering it is a Friday and you wanted the weekend to yourself.

That is until you couldn’t find the one thing that would top that whole plan together. Your earbuds. You remember setting them on your desk right before you left for your final class of the day. Even remembered to charge them as well. But now they were gone.

And only one name came to mind. The identification of your younger brother. Mark.

You weren’t even 100% sure why Mark was at your apartment right now. You had come home and heard a game being blasted in the living room but never even agreed to him coming over.

But he’s your brother so of course, you let it be.

“Mark! Mark! My head phones please!”

You barge into the doorway, but pause when you notice another figure sitting on the sofa with your relative. A figure you are always suffocating yourself to see.

“Oh, Johnny. I didn’t know you were here.”

The brunette looks at you and smiles. “I just got here.”

You purses your lips. Trying so desperately to chase down the beating in your chest, your ears, even your fingers. Swallowing it, you turn back to your brother before you say something you regret. “Mark, my earbuds.”

“I’m busy, Y/n. Stop bothering me!”

“In my apartment?”

Johnny sighs out at his friends rude actions. Sweeping the box of cold Mc Donalds fries off the coffee table and throwing it into a bag. He knew better than any one that you hated people invading your space AND leaving it messy.

“Mark seriously. I have homework and I want my headphones. I don’t even know why you have them.”

“Sis, respectfully, please be quiet and leave me alone.”

The tone and words your brother sent your way not only triggered you, but his friend as well. Johnny hated when Mark was so difficult with you on situations like this. He had witnessed so many of these altercations and every single time, he was definitely on your side.

You can see the way it bothered the tall figure that man spreads at the other end of the sofa. Man you wished he���d stop wearing such sexy joggers when around you. But you got to push that aside for the time being. This is important. You huff a breath out with a pout. Eyes gazing to the other figure to plead cutely for some help.

Mark can never argue with him. “Johnnyyy.”

“Mark, c’mon man. Give her the earbuds.”

Johnny sticking up for you made your stomach do several flips. Which wasn’t that shocking because he’s done so many, many times before. But each time, it warmed your heart even more than the last.

When Mark stole one of your graphic t shirts. Specifically, one Johnny had given you. When Mark came over and took pillow cases for Halloween instead of using his own. Mark spilling orange juice on your kitchen floor and decide to wait until it was actually sticky to clean it up. There’s an on going cycle. Johnny’s been on your side for every single one.

Mark sighs out loudly, loud enough that you were sure Spain could hear it. His occupied hands now change course and pull the earphones from behind him. He slaps them into your own hand before looking at your eyes. His annoyances spoke loudly.

“Good, thanks. Now head out and get food for me. I’m starving.”

His jaw dropped.

“Why me?”

“Because I know if I go, you’re gonna make demands about getting something as if you’re actually paying.”

“True.”

You rip your card from your pocket and set it down on the table sat an inch below their knees. “Here’s my card. Get something for you and Johnny, too.”

“Thanks sis,” he chuckles. He pauses the game on the television. You weren’t even entirely sure what it was. Guns and animation was the farthest you’d get.

Mark turns to Johnny just as you exit the room, who was staring blankly at his phone. “You wanna come with? Or stay here?”

“I’ll stay here. I wanna try the level myself.”

“Well do you want anything?”

Johnny accepts that whatever Mark gets, he’ll enjoy too. Taking that as an answer, Mark nods and heads out of the apartment to a restaurant.

Johnny stands from the sofa after tossing the gaming controller off to the side. His brown orbs peek through the curtains to see if Mark had reached the car yet. Thank the heavens you were located on the second floor. The boy always could get to the parking lot fast enough.

Watching as Mark steps beside his vehicle to unlock the drivers door, Johnny takes that as a clear to go abbreviation.

Racing down the apartment hall, he finds himself standing in front of your bedroom door. You’re on the inside studying, laid out on your stomach with a textbook in your face, headphones playing in through your ears. Loud enough that you didn’t hear the double knock, nor the sound of the door opening.

Johnny creeps behind you. Shutting the door behind him in the process. You didn’t notice his presence at all. Considering you’re facing away from the door.

That is until you feel the end of the bed dip under your legs. Then a hand lands beside your elbow that dig into the mattress from holding you up. You pull off your headphones and place them in their case.

“I’m studying.”

“I know,” he replies. Moving his upper body down so that you could see his face. “Just wanted to see you.”

When he spoke like this, you had to give in. If it was any other words, you would’ve kicked him out to finish your work, but as of now, you just can’t.

You place your homework sheet into the textbook and push the whole thing aside. Turning onto our back, you can see his whole figure so clearly now.

His faint smile sits so beautifully on his face. Johnny tucks a strand of your locks off your eyebrow and behind your ear. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

His head dips down, soft pink tinted lips pecking on the corner of your mouth. It almost makes you scream that he didn’t hit your lips, until he does.

“You look so pretty today.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You always look so pretty,” he traces the outline of your jaw with his mouth. He props your knee to the side so he can have his lower body laying in between your legs rather than straddling you.

You thought it was just for him to get more comfortable, but it was really so he could connect his now covered bulge on the thin legging material that covers your heat.

The hand of his that laid in the bed now tugs on your waist. Pulling your bottom half to rub against his own. If you had on ANY other underwear, these actions probably wouldn’t have been so effective. But you in thin lace. And your leggings were a thin material so you can feel it all.

And with his sweats, this was just a perfect day for clothing choices.

The pulls were continuous. One pull of your hips after another. “J-Johnny, what about Mark?”

“What about him?”

“What if he comes back?”

“Then he comes back. I don’t care,” he shrugs, placing his lips on your neck. He leaves soft wet kisses rather than hickeys because he knew better. “Besides, have you even gone out to eat with your brother. He never knows what to get anyway. He stares at the menu for at least five minutes.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Mh, glad you realized. Now, let’s forget about him. Thinking about your brother is the last thing I wanna do when I’m trying to fuck his sister.”

His words spark something in this moment. You hadn’t seen or been with Johnny in at least two weeks. They’ve been finishing their sports season. So there was no hiding how horny you are right now because of the lack of touch.

Not blaming Johnny.

But now, it’s gonna be even harder to see him because of the fact that the season is over. Which means Mark will want Johnny all to himself.

So moments like this, you have to savor.

“Where’d you go?”

You didn’t realize the words were meant for you until everything, the kisses and grinding, had stopped. “What?”

“You zoned out.”

“Sorry- I was just thinking.”

“About me I hope.”

You smile. Of course he’d want that. “Well yes. And no. It’s just, I’ve missed you this week. And now that your sport is over, Marks gonna hog you all for himself.”

“I’ve missed you, too, baby. And I will make time for you. I promise. Mark doesn’t need me all the time. Don’t worry, okay?”

You nod. If Johnny makes a promise, he keeps it. So him promising to try to see you more is enough to set it aside and focus on the both of you and what you’re doing now.

You pull him down so your lips touch. His hand on your waist grips tightly on the skin that peeks from under the sweater. HIS sweater. The one you placed on yourself when you returned to your room because you knew the second Mark left for food, Johnny would be right at your door.

His ruts his hips deeply so that his heavy erection grazing so perfectly onto your aching core. His hand on your waist now pulls at the band on your pants. Pulling them down and off your legs. Leaving the underwear intact.

His eyes darken at the sight of the lace underwear HE had taken you to buy. The green sits perfectly against your skin.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

“I want you, Johnny.”

“You have me, baby.”

You whine at the feeling of his finger rubbing your clit over the fabric. The underwear is definitely soaked but for some reason it feels better this way. Maybe it’s because it makes it harder for his finger to slip away or the material just feels perfect when being moved around. Who knows?

His lips mend with yours. The extra intimacy arouses you even more.

Johnny takes this occupied moment to pull his throbbing dick out his joggers and boxers. Replacing his finger motions on your heat with the tip.

He rubs it back and forth. Same motions he’d do if it was his fingers. You remove yourself from the kiss to watch. Johnny kisses the corner of your mouth again, then your cheek, then your temple, and then behind your ear before he whispers.

“Want it inside? Hm?”

Sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you hum in response. He wasn’t gone force words out your mouth. Not when you’ve already expressed how badly you want him moments ago. Any other day he would, not today.

He pulls aside the wet lace, picking up some of your juices before slipping right inside. Not too fast. It has been a minute, so he allows the adjustment.

You moan into his shoulder just as he grunt into your ear.

“Fuck you always feel so good around me. You were made for me.”

If you had a dollar for how many times Johnny has told you that he loved when you were wrapped around him, you’d be in the Bahamas right now. But he just had to make sure you knew how much he enjoyed being intimate with you. Especially since the first time when you questioned whether he had other partners.

He didn’t.

But you don’t know any better at the time.

So he always made sure that you knew he loved being with you in every way possible.

“Fuck- I might just cum already.”

You hands grip the mid length locks on the back of his head. His face still being tucked next to your ear allows you the access to do so. You were so glad he was deciding to grow it out. Gave you more to hold onto.

His thrust into your pussy speeds up. Johnny holds back on cumming so you could get there first. To help, he puts his fingers back onto your clit. Circling them around just perfectly. Just how you loved it. “Fuck. Johnny, just like that.”

“Do it feel good? Hm baby?”

“Y-yes. God yes.”

“God, I wish I could fuck you like this everyday. Fucking shit!”

The constant clenching you were expressing around his cock made it harder for him to hold it in. So he rubs his fingers faster. Slamming his lips onto your mouth knowing that the extra feeling will help you get there.

You expose a string of moans. Each one getting louder than the other which informed him that you were peeking.

��Cum. Cum for me.”

And you do as told. Letting go right around his still fastening dick. He hardens his thrusts inside you and removes his fingers to hold your hips as he thanks the heavens that he can finally let go himself. His white cum shoots inside of you. Painting your insides so much, he’s so sure you emptied him out completely. Grunts echoe into your mouth. On and on until he stills and collapses on top of you. His face right back next to your ear.

“God, you’re so perfect.”

“You too,” you smile. You wrap your arms around him to hold his figure against you. Placing a kiss on his head.

You both stay like this until your phone dings. You pick up the device and notice a text message from Mark. You turn the phone and taps Johnny’s shoulder so he could see the message as well.

Mark

Traffics a little backed up

Mark

I got the food but it might be a little cold :(

“He really does take forever.”

“I told you,” he chuckles. Johnny kisses your cheek again and then your reddened lips. “Let’s clean up and watch a movie until he gets here. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

[franciswasteland]

JASON GRACE X NAIAD!READER

MASTERLIST

Summary: Naiad!user (A freshwater Nymph) crushes on the son of Jupiter, jason grace, from afar. That is until he falls into the lake during the Camp activity of canoeing.

Warnings: Cursing. beware spelling issues, im lowkey dyslexic

Authors Notes: UGHHH I LOVE JASON. AND IVE NEVER SEEN A NAIAD!READER X ANYONE BEFORE Sooooo…!!!!!

You are a Nymph—a Naiad to be specific—who resides in the lake at Camp Half-blood along with some other Naiads. Unfortunately for you, the lake at Camp is also used for one of the Camp activities, canoeing. You don’t usually mind when the campers are canoeing, in fact, you somewhat enjoy it. But that’s just because of one reason.

Him.

Jason. fucking. Grace. The son of Jupiter.

You knew your crush on him wasn’t going to go anywhere. After all, water and electricity and/or lighting don’t mix very well. But you simply couldn’t help yourself.

The way he was just so kind to his friends, he’s responsible (—Which is hard to find in a teenage boy.,) His eyes, his blond hair, his smile… and, oh, you can't forget that little scar on his lips.

Well, going back to the Camp activity of canoeing, here you were at the bottom of the Camp Half-blood lake, talking to some other Naiads. Until the shadow of a canoe slowly moved around the lake before settling right above you and your friends. How annoying.

Except what you didn’t know was that your admiring-from-a-far-impossible-to-get crush was with two of his friends, sitting on the canoe that was casting the shadow above you and your fellow Naiads.

Then the canoe began to shake and tilt, causing ripples in the water, disrupting the usually calm lake. Oh boy. Then the canoe flipped completely over, sending three unsuspecting demigods— Leo Valdez, Piper Mclean, and Jason Grace—over the edge of it and into the lake.

Oh, gods, one of them was jason.

What bad timing! you didn’t even have your hair done or anything! Oh… and in the midst of him panicking he locked eyes with you. Something you’d never understand is how a boy, a boy like him, could be so perfect. You quickly looked away from his gaze.

Then you looked back at him, remembering that he could very well be drowning. And by how he looked, you assumed that he in fact was drowning—Or at least was coming close to drowning. You just had to save him, this could be your only chance to communicate with him! Oh, and the fact that he could die.

You tried your best to scoop him in your arms and swim him up to the surface, but considering he was a pretty big guy for being what, fifteen, sixteen years old? You whip your head around, causing the water to make little ripples, towards the other few Naiads in the lake, silently signaling for their help with bringing him to the surface.

Thankfully, the Naiads obliged and swam over to help you lift Jason to the grass, at least to the best of their abilities. As you all resurface, Jason gasping for air, he looks directly at you for a moment, then he snapped his gaze away.

“Uhh.. Thanks,” He said breathlessly.

You can feel your face reddening at his gratitude. You don’t think you have ever swam back to the bottom of the lake so fast before this very moment.

Later on in the day—Night, actually. You were at the top of the lake by yourself, elbows resting on the grass as the rest of your body other than your upper torso was submerged in the lake, your head in your hands. What were you thinking about? Well, the interaction with Jason, of course!

And then like magic, you heard the footsteps that matched his. Did he really sneak off from the campfire to come over to the lake?! Oh yes, yes he did.

“Hey, uh…” You almost immediately recognized his voice. “Thanks for saving me earlier.” Jason sounded slightly embarrassed. You nodded in reply. “I um, accidentally flipped the canoe.” Your eyes widened slightly in amusement, he even got a little laugh out of you.

“Really?” You reply back.

“Yeah, i’m not to sure how.”

And that’s how the night went on, the two of you talking until mr.d ran him back to his cabin and splashed water at you until you swam back under the water for the night. Apparently your admiring-from-a-far-impossible-to-get crush wasn’t so hard to get after all.

[abysscronica]

I’m so jealous of how many languages you know!! It’s sucks growing up in America because I didn’t have the option to learn another language until the last year of high school and it was just copying Spanish phrases from text books because the teacher didn’t wasn’t fluent in actual Spanish. That paired with being autistic means that learning a second language at this point would be extremely hard for me. What was the hardest part about learning your other languages?

Whaaaaaaat. What do you mean the Spanish teacher wasn't fluent in Spanish?? In US, a country were there is NO shortage of native speakers even! That's incredibly stupid, sometimes I wonder who makes these decisions and what exactly is in their brain, gee.

ANYWHO, enough with the polemics, I gather you'd like to study more langues! That's an amazing thing. Unfortunately I don't know anything about the difficulties that autistic people go through for it , I guess it also depends on the type and degree of autism, so it must be a complex topic. My dad is dyslexic (I know it's very different) and he never managed to learn English despite all his efforts. He always felt bad about it, it breaks my heart to this day that he feels this way. BUT times are changing, people are more sensitive to these issues nowadays and these conditions are more widely studied, so I'm sure (I hope?) some autistic-friendly method to study languages must be at least in development.

My personal experience was variegated. In Italy we study English since primary school, then in junior high we can generally add a third language, and so I studied French for three years. It wasn't too hard I have to admit, all my life I sucked at any kind of physical or manual activity, but at least I could do languages. As for Spanish, being Italian, it's kind of a cheat because the two languages are VERY similar. Once you get a hold of the few divergent words, you're set. I learned by moving to study in Spain for a year during university, without any prior knowledge. 😅 Then I tried to do the same with German, I moved to work in a German-speaking country thinking "c'mon, how hard can it be?". Turns out, very. I didn't learn by osmosis like with Spanish. I took a basic course, then I just improvised, and that's why my German is so poor to this day.

My very personal advice with languages is this: be cheeky. Don't be a perfectionist. Go immersive as much as you can, either by visiting the country or finding natives to talk to (online Tandems are also great, you can practice for free!). In your case, do you know if there are any specific advices or techniques to study a new language? You could start from there.

I know many people will shiver in disgust on what I'm about to say, but here's the thing: with languages, "good enough" is good enough. Who cares about the grammar if you can understand and speak to the locals? At the beginning, few basic rules are enough. Let it come later, by listening to locals. Refine it later, if you want, when you can actually sit down with a text and study the rules. First, expand your vocabulary, go by key words. Don't be afraid to talk just because you know little, use what you have. I promise you, most people will just be happy you're trying to speak their language and will help you out.

I speak five languages, two of them with random grammar, but I can have conversations with locals. And that's what matters to me.

[eddiemsbitch]

Hello, Not sure if anyone has sent this request yet for the sweet Eddie boy but what if he finds out his s/o has powers? (Helps El and the gang?) Please and thank you

I tried, I’m severely dyslexic and this was like 3.6K words because I got a lil carried away 0.0 but if you like it lmk, if you find any errors in grammar or spelling lmk and I’ll be happy to fix it ❤️

THIS CONTAINS SEASON 4 ST SPOILERS

Ooo I’m excited to see how this turns out I also know the other half of season 4 still has like a month until it’s released so I’m gonna go off the reader goes to the upside down with them when they do go, buuut if July comes and I have an idea of the battle (and I wanna include Eddie’s hot ass guitar solo) I can write a longer end battle one if you’d like :)

There is no shame in fleeing battle and running - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: whenever you manage to interrogate where your boyfriend disappeared to out of your neighbor Max you follow your younger classmates, and their friends Steve and Robin to find him to find out why the fuck there was a dead girl in his trailer that you didn’t kill bc why the fuck would Chrissy be in your home with your boyfriend alone? You never would’ve thought you would be in a different world fighting demon bats, or that you’d end up outing your one secret you never told Eddie.

Warnings: loads of cussing, I mean come on it’s Eddie and the group, Eddie fluff 🥹 mentions of Chrissy’s death, a lot of the lines are pulled from season 4 episode 2 when they first find Eddie and then after that it’s freely based on you and Eddie and defeating the demon bats in the upside down.

Word count: 3,689

——-

Your mind was going a hundred miles an hour, whenever Eddie’s uncle called you telling you not to come home there’s been an incident you knew something bad happened, and with Eddie’s ‘Job’ you knew it had to involve him in some way. You didn’t expect to see 10 different cop cars surrounding the trailer park along with crime scene tapped around your house. Once you managed to get into the trailer park and parked you rushed to find Wayne to see what the fuck happened and where the hell your boyfriend was. “Wayne! Wayne! Wheres Eddie?” You asked grabbing his shoulders looking around “w-whats going on t-this is way t-too many cops” you asked starting to assume the worst, what if somebody laced his shit? What if that’s why the Coroner was parked outside. “Calm down Y/n…listen…I got off work…Chrissy…the girl Eddie used to..like was..she was..oh my god y/n…somebody evil killed that girl…and I don’t think it was Eddie..” he said looking at you, Wayne hated having to tell you this, he wasn’t that close with his nephew but he still loved the hell out of the weirdo, and he loved you just as much because you loved Eddie way more than anybody in their family ever did, you were like Eddie’s drug that he couldn’t live without, and watching your face change from worry to anger to sadness, because the man you loved more than anybody had left and ran without telling you a word or worse made his heart break even more for his nephew and you. “S-so Eddie’s okay?..” you asked nervously looking at him “i-I don’t know…I haven’t been able to find him since I got home..his vans gone…” he whispered before looking at you with a stern glare “promise me you will not go to find him. I love you y/n just like my own but if you try and find him and do find him…then the cops probably won’t be far behind…they won’t listen when I tell ‘em he couldn’t of done this…” he whispered sadly looking at you “I can’t do that Wayne…if the cops catch Eddie they’re gonna hurt him…show him no mercy..I can’t have that” you mumbled leaving quickly storming back to your car, Now, there is such thing as loving somebody too much, and you admit maybe you love Eddie too much, but you knew under the cocky playfully attitude he was sensitive and would cower at any demand, and he needed you to protect him, even if he didn’t think so.

As you drove through town you thought of where to start your search, you didn’t know where most of Ed’s friends lived, just the ones you had to occasionally drop off or pick up after his Hellfire campaigns. You stopped in front of Dustin Henderson’s house and parked quickly glaring at the two bikes in front of the house, Max was already here, you could tell by the chipped paint and the sticker she had taken from Billy’s room on the license plate decal of her bike. You weren’t exactly unknown to their household, having a short fling with Billy Hargrove, ending it after watching how he treated his younger sister, to which you tried to become a beacon of safety for Max.

Shutting your car door you rushed to The Henderson’s door, right before you could knock it swung open revealing the exact people you were looking for, they hurried you forward a bit so Dustin could shut the door before looking at you like you were about to tell them where their friend was. “Well. Where the fuck is he?” You asked first looking up and down at Dustin “I assume he let you one of you know or you’d have some idea” you asked looking at them worriedly “we’re gonna go to the family video and try and call all of his other friends to see if he’s hiding out there” Dustin said grabbing his bike “Good idea- what the hell are you doing? Get the hell in the car it’s much quicker” you asked motioning to your car that was horribly parked in the driveway “as long as you don’t park like that” Max mumbled walking towards your far smiling a bit “hey. You know Eddie parks for me when I drive places” you snapped playfully getting into the drivers seat practically speeding to Family Video.

It took less than 2 hours to find out where Eddie might be hiding, and somehow you had no idea to think of Rick until they had mentioned his name, thank god you knew where he lived though from the many trips over there you took with Eddie. It took yet another hour and a half to get there though, mainly because you and Dustin had to argue over the younger kids staying behind, which was an argument you gave into in the end. You parked outside slamming the car door rushing inside of the house “Eddie!?” You whisper yelled walking around, you knew Rick was out of town, and you also knew if you shoved the right spot in his door you could get in because of all of the times he was raided by police. Whenever you were met with eerily silence your heart sank, maybe he was hurt somewhere, you could hear the others searching the other areas, yelling for his name. It was like everytime you heard the shout of his name your eyes got even more cloudy than before, and before you knew it tears were running down your face. Jumping and turning around hopefully whenever you heard footsteps behind you, you were met with Steve’s compassionate look “Don’t cry, y/n” he mumbled hugging you tightly, any other time you would’ve laughed in Steve’s face, you knew after his and Nancy’s breakup he was basically a fuckboy, and yet you now accepted his hug crying into his chest “he’s probably just hiding somewhere else..this is only the first place we looked” he said rubbing your back, you just shook your head stepping back to wipe your face “Steve…he’s been missing since sometime last night..h-he told me it was just a deal and he’d be home by the time I got home this morning..Chrissy..the way she was when I saw her…if it was someone…how could Eddie still be out somewhere alive..” you whispered sniffling “well…I mean…they would’ve found his body or van by no-“ Steve was cut off by Max’s yell “hey guys!” Steve gives you an ‘I told you so’ look before you both rushed outside looking at what exactly Max was pointing her flashlight at, Rick’s shed door was slightly ajar ��does Rick possibly always leave his shed unlocked?..” Dustin whispered looking towards you “I dunno! The times I was here it was chained locked shut but last time I rode with Eddie was like two or three months ago” you explained slowly walking towards the shed.

As you all managed to squeeze through the pry in the door you were met with even more eery silence, everything was untouched, obvious that someone had pried the door open but then not touch a single thing, while you peaked behind things and under things you scoffed at the other’s comments about the shed, but you had to admit it was fucking disgusting. Hearing a bag rustle harshly you turned around glaring at Steve who was jabbing inside of old boats with an oar “what are you doing?” Dustin asked harshly before stepping closer “what are you doing!?” He whisper yelled about to grab the oar that was still being jabbed into different storage bags. “Hey yea what the fuck are you doing?” You whispered stepping closer to them nodding at Dustin before Steve shifted starting to jab other tarps “what if he’s in here?” Steve whispered to you both sending a glare towards Dustin “so take the tarp off!” You both whisper yelled towards him “if you’re so brave you guys take the tarp off!” He whispered back to you, glaring at him you continued to look around trying to find any sign of Eddie staying here “hey look over here” max whispered looking at you and Robin, you walked over stepping over the clutter and mess, the smell of the shed kinda smelt like an abandoned building, furniture and other things just sitting in dust and other dirt and grime.

When you stopped your eyes lit up a bit and you almost started crying again, there were multiple beer bottles and food wrappers laid everywhere on the workbench “somebody was here” Robin whispered examining the wrappers “Eddie was here, that’s the only thing he’ll drink he says all the other beer tastes like shit” you whispered smiling as you looked around more “maybe he heard us pull up, got spooked and ran” Robin suggested looking towards Max “oh don’t worry! Steve will get him with his oar” Dustin joked, you sighed knowing that now if Eddie was in here he knew that Steve had an oar and could most likely hit him with it- “Steve. If you injury Eddie y/n’s most likely gonna kill you” Dustin said almost like reading your mind

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson but considering the fact that everybody in this room has nearly died about a hundred times personally I don’t find it funny-“ Steve screamed loudly as something jumped from under a tarp charging at him and shoving him against the wall pining him there “wait! Wait! Wait!” Steve screamed as Eddie held a broken beer bottle to Steve’s throat “hey! Hey!” Dustin yelled rushing towards Eddie stopping as he saw Eddie dig the sharp edge deeper almost cutting Steve “Eddie Munson if you hurt him watch if I don’t take my anger out on you for leaving without telling me Jack shit!” You screamed glaring at him shoving Dustin back walking closer to him “It’s y/n, Eddie. This is Steve, he’s not gonna hurt you, you know I won’t let that happen..” you said calmly trying to calm him down knowing that screaming is just gonna freak him out more. “Right..right..” he said gasping for air not wanting to press the glass into his skin any further than it was “Steve. I need you to drop the oar” Dustin said stepping forward a bit next to you just incase Eddie charged at you. Steve let out a shaky breath letting go of the oar letting it fall onto the ground with a couple loud knocks, you watched Eddie reposition glaring and push the bottle edge deeper, you weren’t gonna lie, seeing Eddie so angry was hot, but knowing the anger was just a mask to show his fear broke your heart. “He’s cool Ed! He’s cool I promise sweetheart I’m not gonna let him hurt you” you said loudly not wanting anybody to get hurt “what’re you doing here?” Eddie growled, his shaky voice tugging on your heart strings, he didn’t deserve this, you knew Eddie and you knew damn well he couldn’t hurt Chrissy, yes he loved you to the god damn moon and back but he still cared for Chrissy, she was the only one he knew really growing up who didn’t call him a freak and would’ve never killed her.

“We’re here to find you” Dustin said motioning to him “Eddie. These are Dustin’s friends, you know Robin…from..band” you said nervously motioning to the taller girl standing behind you “h-hello sir” Robin whispered slightly waving towards him “this is Max. Eddie you know Max she’s our neighbor..I used to live with her when I met you remember?-“ Dustin cut you off “the one who never wants to play dnd” he said looking at Eddie showing him his hands to let him know he’s not armed. “We’re on your side” he added growling to himself whenever Eddie still wouldn’t back off. “We’re on your side I swear on..my life!” You argued looking at him “right guys?” You asked watching Eddie just growl and dig the bottle deeper barely cutting Steve’s neck “shit! Shit!” You yelped looking at Dustin “I swear on my moms life!” He yelled “y-yeah, swear on Dustin’s mom” Steve whimpered, you watched Eddie jabbed the blade a bit before turning around, Steve rubbing his neck taking deep breaths to calm his heartbeat. Everybody sighed slowly trying to calm their own heart as Eddie slowly slid down the wall staring blankly at the floor, his hands shaking horribly, Dustin crouched in front of his holding his hand to keep you a couple feet back, you wanted to just shove the kid aside but you knew he just didn’t want you hurt and right know you couldn’t tell what was going on in your boyfriend’s head. Only now did you realize you had been crying again, wiping your face quickly as you knelt down looking at him as Dustin spoke “we just wanna help” he whispered reaching for the broken bottle retreating his hand back mumbling a small okay whenever Eddie pulled the bottle closer ready to jab it at anybody. “We just wanna know what happened Eddie..” You whispered slowly reaching towards him rubbing his shoulder lightly “you’re not gonna believe me” he whimpered looking at you tearing up “try us” Max said looking towards him, he looked up at her then back to you “guys…let me…have a minute with Ed..please” you asked scooting closer to him grabbing the bottle from his hand slowly slightly tugging it whenever he tried to tighten his grip on it, The others left, Dustin only giving slight protest to leaving you alone with Eddie in an unstable state but nonetheless he left standing guard outside the shed door incase you needed help.

“Eddie…sweetheart…Are you okay?..are you hurt?..” you whispered hugging him tightly feeling him relax his body in your hold, he smelt horrible, probably from staying in this nasty ass place “I-I didn’t do it..I-I swear I-I’d never hurt Chrissy” he whimpered holding onto you tightly like you’d somehow make all of this never happen “I know..I know bubs…I never thought you did..you’re too sweet of a person” you whispered moving his bangs to kiss his forehead, he slowly sat up looking at you cupping your cheeks, you rested your hands on his sighing “Ed…we need to know what happened…The cops…are most definitely looking for you right now…” you whispered softly, he just nodded letting you call the others back into the shed. He kissed you quickly and softly resting his forehead against yours “I’m sorry I left without leaving you anything to really..know..but..I was scared..” he whispered looking at you “I-I’m sorry” and just like that, every little spec of anger you felt towards Eddie for not telling you what was going on was gone, you just felt sadness for him.

After everybody got into the shed and seated Eddie sighed, starting to explain excatly what happened that night, from what he was doing with Chrissy in the first place to the second he left. “Her bones…” Eddie whimpered shaking his head stuttering trying to force himself to speak “her bones. Started to snap” he forced out looking away from you. “Her eyes…it was like something was inside, pulling..I-I didn’t know what to do…so…s-so I ran away…I left her there..” he whimpered his voice fading a telltale sign he was starting to cry, he quickly brought his hand to his face turning away “you all think I’m crazy don’t you?” He asked holding back a sob, his voice barely above a whisper. “No baby..we don’t think you’re crazy” you said looking at him, the others humming in agreement, you all jumped back when he started to yell not expecting his voice to go from so quiet to that loud “listen don’t bullshit me man! I know how it sounds!” He yelled his voice cracking and shaking any chance it got “we’re not bullshitting you” Max said sternly “we believe you” Robin chimed in looking at him as he scoffed and shook his head “okay..What I’m about to tell you…might a little difficult to take..” Dustin said sighing “when people say Hawkins is cursed..they’re not..that far off..there’s another world..hidden beneath Hawkins..sometimes it bleeds…into ours..” he explained, Eddie looking at Dustin almost intently “like…ghosts and shit…?” He asked “way worse..than ghosts..” max whispered.

You stayed with Eddie overnight, except you made him go inside Rick’s house to sleep, it wouldn’t be until the next day you saw the others again, you seemed to have been zoned out because you didn’t really take attention to anything until you were watching Steve be dragged underwater by something, you watched as Nancy jumped then Robin which left you and Eddie, you could heard police sirens and dog barking getting closer and your heart starting to race. “E-Eddie” you said watching the woods as he panicked on either staying in the boat or jumping into the water with whatever the hell pulled Steve down under. “Eddie” you said again turning towards him as he looked at you “what!?” He whispered yelled before you jumped into the water knowing he’d follow behind you, and he did, trying his best to swim next to you as you tried to find whatever the hell Steve was talking about and soon enough you did.

Dropping into the upside down was weird, it wasn’t dark but was hard to see, dust particles flying around everywhere and it wasn’t hard to find Steve and the others hiding under a rock. Once you both landed, Eddie almost making you into a pancake from how hard the fall was. You didn’t have time to groan in pain though because Nancy and the others started yelling as a swarm of some type of bats with tails started to attack both you and Eddie, the others screamed trying to run out and help you both but the bats wouldn’t stop, they just continued to swarm sinking their fangs into your’s and Eddie’s bodies, you couldn’t tell who’s screams were louder, yours, Eddie’s or your friends’s. For a split second you had thought to just use them, use the one thing you swore never to use again, you weren’t normal, not by a long shot, now you weren’t like El, you didn’t grow up in a lab, or be a lab rat all your life, but you did have something no doctor could explain, after an abusive upbringing one day whenever your dad went to beat you you used something not even you knew how it worked, until you started bouncing from foster home to foster home, using it almost anytime you were alone, testing it seeing how it worked.

You and Eddie put up a fight and for a moment you guys thought you had it, using the tails of the bats to slam them into the ground and kill them or at least injure them enough to stop attacking you, but it was like after one swarm died another was back, now swarming you, Eddie, and Robin, Nancy and Steve hiding under the rock protecting each other. You could see the moment Eddie gave up, he just turned to you and held your hand tightly, and the exact moment he gave up, you did too, feeling at least four bats bite into you at once you screamed in pain, letting your body fall and land on your knees you took a deep breath, closing your eyes, the familiar tingling sensation spread throughout your chest, fingers, and arms then a jolt almost like you were shocked with a shit ton of electricity at once. Everything went silent, just the panting of the others around you, your body shook, you could feel the warm blood going down over your lips, the dirt on the ground digging into your knees, and the weak tired feeling almost like your limbs were 50 pound sandbags. “Holy fucking shit! That was awesome!” Robin cheered jumping around as Eddie lifted you up off the ground onto your feet again “baby?…” he whispered cupping your cheeks gently lifting your head so you looked at him “was…was that..you?..” he asked “what?..” you asked slightly slurring your words, you had never used that much force, never in your life, your powers weren’t much different from El’s, you couldn’t move anything with your mind but you could send out short energy bursts, similar to telekinesis almost, you had never used that much energy before, the most you had ever used was whenever you had blown your step father through your living room wall. “That…that…giant blue..force it..fucking…obliterated everything around us…” he explained holding onto you tightly as he glanced around your surroundings, multiple buildings destroyed, some of the rock Nancy and Steve were hiding under was broken and chipped off, and there were multiple dead demon bats surrounding you, thousands of them. “I-I never wanted you to find out, Eddie…I-I don’t know…how…o-or…what-…I didn’t know how to explain it to you because I don’t know how to explain it myself” you whispered looking at him tearing up “I’m not mad…no no no…honey you just..you just saved us” he smiled looking at you “that was fucking awesome, don’t ever apologize for being like a..fucking sorcerer” he smiled looking at you trying to get a small smile out of you, since he had left and saw you again he barely saw you smile, and that was one of the things he loved and wanted to see 24/7. “You promise…you don’t..think I’m some…freak of nature?..” you asked holding onto his t-shirt tightly “oh baby” he sighed smiling at you placing a finger right between your eyes “don’t be so silly, silly, silly” he said tapping your forehead with each ‘silly’ he said “if you’re a freak baby then I guess I am one hell of a freak lover” he smiled, his smile growing even wider as you laughing shaking your head shoving him away by his face “how are you going to get out of here guys?” You asked looking at the others ready to get the hell out of wherever you guys were and get somewhere safe with Eddie.

[bloodwrittenballad]

Greatest Weapon | Kaz Brekker

Summary: you’re Kaz’ greatest weapon, but he refuses to use you for one of his most important heists. angrily you question him for reasoning as to why and find out you’re not just his greatest weapon, but his greatest weakness too.

Warnings: fighting, slight angst, mentions of death and injuries, swears, shitty writing, little sweet at the end. readers gender isn’t specified. also please note i’m dyslexic so if there’s any mistakes please be kind about it!

let me know what you think! it’s rushed i know and probably not great but feedback is always appreciated! - parker

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Kaz sat at his desk, head resting in his gloved hands as he mulled over the conversation he’d just had about the largest mission with the crows. It was no doubt going to be a tricky one, and with your help the other were convinced it’d work. However, Kaz was not entirely too sure about that.

“I’ve said it before and I will say it again. We are not asking for their assistance.” Kaz muttered bitterly at Jesper, who was wide eyed at the suggestion of using your gifts. “But why not?” Inej pressed the matter. She’d seen you in action before, she knew you were more than capable of pulling off heists, especially one of this risk. “They’ve got talent, Kaz. Skill. We need that, especially now. Why can’t we use them?” Asked a desperate Inej.

“Because I said so!” Kaz had snapped, not meaning to come off as harsh, especially to Inej, but the subject of you had always round him up. “We are not using Y/N for this mission, and that. is. final.” The other crow members nodded, jaws slightly clenched and eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless they listen to their boss and dropped the subject.

You, however, would not give up so easily. As soon as you had gotten to the Slat to hear the latest update on the mission, only to find out from Inej that you weren’t to be apart of it, all thanks to the ever so lovely bastard of the barrel, you saw red. Inej barely got to mutter out anything else she may have had to say, before you were stomping up the stairs to Kaz’s office.

You didn’t bother knocking like you usually would’ve, instead your soft hand met the cold metal doorknob, and ripped it open with great ferocity. The sound of intense creaking and Kaz’s name being spat broke him out of his thoughts, his cold and tired eyes snapping up to your angry ones. He stood up at once, his tall body standing still before your seething shorter figure.

“What is the meaning of this, Y/N.” He spoke in his usual authoritative edge. You scoffed. “Oh please, like you don’t fucking know exactly why I’m here. Instead why don’t you tell me the meaning of why you aren’t allowing me on this next mission? Huh? Why’s that, Kaz?” Your voice was harsh as you all but spat your words in his face, like they were venom seeping off your tongue in waterfalls.

Kaz wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t slightly surprised by your aggressiveness, yet of course he wouldn’t admit out loud or show it. Still, the spite in your demeanor towards him in this moment was like nothing he’d ever witnessed before. Sure you were as stubborn as could be, there was no denying that, and as his greatest weapon, he knew more than anyone just how fearsome you were. You’d just never directed it at him.

Until now. And Kaz could see just how much these jobs meant to you. However, regardless of the fact, his mind was made up, and that was final. You were not to be joining this mission, instead you could stay there with any medical supplies they may need ready in case anyone got injured. But he couldn’t risk you being the one in possible need of help in the unfortunate case you got hurt if you went.

And that’s exactly what he told you, not that final part of him not wanting you get hurt though of course. You let out another scoff followed by the fakest laugh he had ever heard. Actually, come by think of it, that was the only time he’d ever heard you laugh in general. What a pity it wasn’t genuine.

“Oh so what, is this a demotion? Or do you suddenly just not need me anymore, is that it? I thought I was your stupid ‘Greatest Weapon’. What changed that?”

‘My feelings for you!’ Kaz’s mind seemed to yell at him. Instead he just clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at you. “It’s not a demotion, it’s protection.”He claimed. You rolled your eyes. “Bullshit. Protection against what exactly? You know better than anyone else that I can handle myself. Been doin’ it since I was a kid, I’m more capable than most when it comes to fighting.”

“I wasn’t talking about your protection.” Kaz hissed. Lie. “I’m talking about our protection, me and the other Crows. You’re reckless, you get hotheaded, that puts us in danger. I can’t afford you putting any of our lives on the line anymore, especially on this job.”

Another lie. You weren’t any of those things. You were one of the most skilled he’d ever seen or known, he just had to say these things to get you to back down. You however, being the stubborn pain in the ass you always were, still wasn’t buying it, even if you were slightly hurt by what he said.

“No. No Kaz I’m buying that. I’m not reckless, I never have been. I’m your best shot at bringing home the big win for this heist and you know that! Everyone fucking knows that! So tell me, truthfully, why aren’t you letting me do this? Is it punishment? Or could it be that you’re jealous? Is that it?”

Kaz drew in a deep breathe as he listened to you rant, which stopped you short in your tracks. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re jealous. Oh Saints, is the Kaz Brekker jealous of his Greatest Weapon? Is that why you don’t want me going, because you’re afraid I’ll best you?”

His dark eyes glared at the mention, but remained silent. You just smirked, thinking you had figured it out. “Well then,” you hummed. “I guess now that we’ve gotten to the bottom of this I can go, can’t I? Unless you don’t mind me telling everyone why you had such a hissy fit over me joining...”

With that, you turned to leave his office, satisfied thinking you won and could officially go. But before you reached the door, Kaz’s voice calling your name stopped you in your spot. You froze, shocked by the tone of his voice. Not because it was harsh, not because he was snapping at you, but... because the way he spoke was so soft it was like a whisper.

That was something you’d never experienced before. Kaz had never sounded so, desperate? You turned on your heals to him, your boots creaking on the floor as you came face to face with him. And that’s when the real shock of this situation set in.

In front of you was no longer your boss, the barrel of the bastard that so many feared. Instead, in his place was a boy who looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Y/N,” he began, it came out in a croak. “Kaz?” You questioned, unsure you took a few steps closer towards him.

He looked up you, with shiny eyes that looked like they burned with tears waiting to be shed. “Kaz, I- Whats going-,” you began, but he held up a gloved hand, silencing you.

“Y/N,” he started once more. “I- I’m not doing any of this out of jealousy, o-or because I think you’re reckless. I’m going this because...” his voice goes quiet, and he looks like he’s trapped in thought. “Because...?” you questioned, eagerly awaiting whatever it was he was going to say.

Kaz inhaled heavily before exhaling, pinching the bridge of his nose and tightly closing his eyes. “Because I can’t lose you.” he finally concluded. And now it was your turn to inhale sharply, shock overtaking you once more.

“W-what do you mean, lose me, Kaz? I-I dont-,” he interrupts you. “This heist is dangerous, Y/N. It’s not like our usual ones, this one could mean certain death for some. I cannot let any of those be you. I won’t. I can’t. You may be my greatest weapon, but you’re also my greatest weakness. W-without you I- I can’t think of what I’d do without you. You’re all I have left, Y/N. The only person I’ve had by my side since I was a child that I have left and I can’t jeopardize that more than I have. So please, please I’m begging you, stay here. For me.”

Your eyes went wide and glassy as he spoke, all the words that tumbled out of his mouth hitting you at full speed while you tried to process what this meant. You rose your bowed head to look him in the eyes, they mirrored your own. Glassy and wide, but with a mix of something you hadn’t seen in ages.

Childlike hope. The same hope he had in his eyes the day you promised you’d be by his side forever when you were both children. His only hope left was to keep you safe, that’s all he wanted. And that’s when you agreed, “okay.” your voice was shaky. “Okay, I’ll stay. But just for this one, deal? As long as you promise me you’ll be okay without me. Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Kaz felt many things in this moment of what he had just revealed, but mostly he felt relieved at your agreement. If he could ensure you’d be safe for even just an extra day, then he’d make it his mission to make sure this heist went perfectly so he could make it back home to you.

“I promise. I’ll come back to you, Y/N. I always will.”

[gubler-me-up]

No Need to Rush

Request: can u pls do a spencer x bau fem! reader where she’s dyslexic but also a genius like spencer and like someone maybe another member of the team/unsub makes a comment abt her being stupid. and she gets really upset abt it. then later spencer comforts her and they have really romantic but rough sex. where he’s just like reassuring her of how smart and beautiful she is.

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! Sorry this took a lil long to complete but I wanted to make sure I wrote this accurately and incorporate everything you wanted into it! Please let me know if you don’t feel as if this representation of dyslexia sits right with you and I will edit it no problem. This fic also concludes smut week (woo!) so I hope you enjoy 💓 

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Smut

Content warning: Learning disorder degradation, mentions of violence, rough sex, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie, choking

Word count: 3.2k

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It was the dead of winter in Seattle, Washington and a sniper decided it was the best time to have some target practice. His target practice ended up taking three innocent people’s lives as they were living their day-to-day lives. To top off his killing spree, he wrote handwritten letters to the police department. His letters were rambles about him not stopping until he finds his final target.

Hotch had left Spencer and you to go over the letters to try and figure out any indications of who his final target could be. He had sent JJ and Morgan to interview the victim’s family members to try and see if there were any similar people in their circle. Having you four working diligently on piecing the entire story together could end up saving another person from meeting an early demise.

You loved working with Spencer because the two of you were always up to speed with your thinking process. Both of you analyzed each letter with care, making sure nothing was missed which could possibly be used as a clue in identifying who this person and who their real target is.

You felt as if you were taking too long to go through every letter. There were about 20 of them and his incoherent rambles were giving you a hard time efficiently reading them. You had 10 to go through and Spencer was already finished and writing on the whiteboard clues he found in the letters. You were still on your seventh letter, dissecting and writing down what you thought was important. You couldn’t help feeling bad you were taking a long time.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Spencer looked back at you with a questionable expression. “For what?”

“For taking forever. I’m taking up time reading these letters when I should be brainstorming with you.”

“Y/N, you’re not slowing down the process. If anything you taking your time can identify some major evidence.”

“Yeah, but you could do it within two minutes.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. Valuable information is valuable information no matter how long it takes you to find it. Besides you’re the smartest person I know, so nothing will get past you.”

“Doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

“I’m here to remind you it’s all the time. I’ll be here to remind you every day if you ever doubt yourself.”

You smiled as you felt your worries drifting away. You were always self-conscious about having dyslexia. Growing up with it was the hardest part of your early years because people would see your extraordinary capabilities but questioned them whenever you had to read or spending longer than usual completing tasks. It was embarrassing for you. Even in adulthood you felt anxious about letting people know you were dyslexic because you were worried they wouldn’t see you as a genius.

When you let the members of the team know you were dyslexic, they accepted you as you were. It made you feel welcomed and understood for once in the longest while. It was especially nice hearing Spencer say you were a genius regardless of your dyslexia. You felt as if he understood you the most out of everyone because he had a rough time growing up as a child prodigy.

As you continued to read through the letter you were on, something caught your eye. You looked up at the whiteboard to see what Spencer had written. He had written about sunsets, trees and a park. He had concluded it was about Kerry Park in Seattle and speculated the unsub could possibly live near there. What you had read though made you think of a different possibility.

“Kelly Park,” you said aloud.

Spencer turned to you. “Kelly Park?”

Before you could explain your findings, Hotch and detective Royce entered the room. You were happy they did, so you could explain to everyone your theory as to who the unsays actual target is.

“Find any useful information we can put towards finding the unsub?” Hotch asked.

You nodded. “Yes. Kelly Park’s the end goal.”

“Kelly Park? You mean Kerry Park by West Highland,” detective Royce said.

“No, I mean, yes, but the unsub slipped up…uh no, they-uh- replaced Kelly with Kerry because there is a Kelly Park who lives nearby,” you explained.

“Wait, so is it Kerry or Kelly the name of the person who lives nearby Kerry’s Park?” Hotch asked.

“Sorry, sir. It’s Kelly Park who lives nearby Kerry’s Park.”

“How can you even speculate that?” Detective Royce asked.

“Because it’s in this letter. He says, ‘I spend my days looking at Kelly Park and wondering when I’d be brave enough to leave. I don’t think I am but one day I’ll be free,’” you said while holding it up.

Detective Royce took it from your hand to take a closer look. He furrowed his eyebrows as he read. He looked back up at you questionably.

“Maybe he’s dyslexic. Only an idiot would write Kelly instead of Kerry when referring to Kerry Park,” he said.

You clenched your jaw as he said his ignorant statement. You knew the unsub wasn’t dyslexic and you had a clue right infant of you. You snatched the letter away from his hands as you took a deep breath to calm yourself down.

“I’m actually dyslexic myself and I can tell you right now this unsub is not,” you said.

“I should have known from the time you mixed up Kerry and Kelly in your explanation. For a genius you sure don’t talk like one,” he said.

You felt your eyes stinging from the tears which were trying to breakthrough. What he said was familiar to everything you heard from your childhood. It was degrading to hear it when you knew you were on to something. Especially evidence which could potentially save someone.

“Don’t talk to one of my agents with such disrespect, Royce. My team and I would never slander your team, so we expect the same courtesy back,” Hotch said.

“Hotchner, you can’t seriously believe this is a connection,” detective Royce said.

“Who said it couldn’t be?” Spencer said.

“Common sense. He’s trying to mess up his words on purpose to take us off track from what really matters,” detective Royce said.

“Well, I’m not taking that risk. While you stand there with your arro…ignorance, I’ll actually go and do something about this piece of evidence,” you said as you walked by him to exit the room.

You could feel your heart drop with every step you took. Before you called Garcia you took a trip to the washroom. You went into a stall and made sure it was locked before you let your tears escape. You hadn’t felt humiliated for the longest time. The questionable look and harsh comments detective Royce spat at you made you feel sick. You knew you were smart and you knew you were onto evidence to save someone’s life. Yet you were doubted.

You wiped your tears away and took a few deep breaths before exiting the stall. You couldn’t let what he said distract you from finding Kelly Royce. You knew it would affect you for the rest of the day but you would sleep better at night knowing you saved a life. You didn’t want to be crying over two things tonight.

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You sat on the edge of the hotel room bed. You had finished getting ready for the night and were ready to get into bed to forget about the day. You were happy you were right about Kelly Park and saved her hours before she was scheduled to go into the heart of Seattle for an appointment. Her ex-boyfriend, Michael Richards, had plotted for months on how to make her death look like an accident. Too bad his guilty conscience and ego didn’t mix well and he compulsively wrote down his thoughts.

It bothered you immensely detective Royce still didn’t give you your flowers at the end of everything. You understood not everyone would apologize for their ignorance and you should be used to it by now. However, you couldn’t help but think about it over and over.

You heard a few light knocks on your hotel room door. You looked at the clock. It was 11 p.m. You got up to go peek through the peephole to see who was trying to get your attention this time of night. You looked through the peephole and saw Spencer standing outside. You opened the door. As you opened it he looked at you with a smile but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“What brings you to this part of town so late?” You asked.

“I want to make sure you’re okay before you go to bed. I know how frustrating today was for you and I don’t want you going to bed with doubt on your mind,” he explained.

You stepped aside and gestured him to come inside your hotel room. You were happy he had stopped by. He was always the first one to give you words of encouragement and a reason to put your doubts aside. You closed the door and made your way over to the edge of the bed to sit. You patted the spot next to you for him to sit down. He took the seat next to you, sitting closer to you than expected. You two were shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. It was comforting to you for him to be so close.

“You know, if it wasn’t for you pointing out Kelly Park in his letter, she might not be alive,” he said.

“I know and I’m glad it worked out in the end. I just…”

You trailed off as a wave of doubt overthrew your thought process. You started to think if you had been wrong, if it were just your dyslexia getting the best of you, an innocent life could have been taken. A tear slipped from your right eye. You quickly wiped it away before Spencer saw. He must have seen it escape because he placed his hand on your thigh and squeezed it.

“You have a beautiful mind, Y/N,” he assured you.

“It doesn’t translate properly when I say the wrong words, read slower than average, mix up-”

“And all that doesn’t make a difference to how you save lives every day. If detective Royce wasn’t so prideful he would have thanked you properly for bringing to light what they brushed off,” he said.

You chuckled. “Yeah, he is a prideful idiot.”

“Exactly, so don’t let him or other doubters get to you. I believe in you wholeheartedly and always will. The team does as well, so we’ll always back you up.”

You smiled brightly at him as you felt your deep sadness fade away. He had such a way with words you felt as if you could rule the world solely based on his encouragement. You opened up your arms and embraced him in a hug. He wrapped his arms around the small of your back. He rubbed your back gently as you placed your head comfortably in the crook of his neck.

“I love how you’re always here for me, Spence,” you whispered into his neck.

“I’ll always be here to remind you of your worth and beauty,” he said.

You leaned up from his neck and faced him straight on. Your faces were just an inch away from each other as you lost yourself in his eyes. You softly smiled and found yourself saying things before your brain could process them.

“I could just kiss you right now,” you blurted out.

“Why don’t you?” He asked.

You were now speechless as you weren’t expecting him to be open to the idea. Perhaps he did find more than just your mind to be beautiful. One of his hands moved from your back and found its way to the side of your face. He moved your face closer to his and your lips finally met each other. He gently eased his tongue into your mouth before he dived fully into your mouth.

You placed your hands on his chest. You pulled on his shirt to bring him forward even more to minimize the space between you two. He moved his hands and placed them both on your hip. He brought you onto his lap without breaking your kiss. You glued your hands to his face to prevent him from even considering moving away from you. His hands squeezed before slipping his hands down your pyjama pants.

You didn’t give it a second thought and raised yourself off his hips so he could pull your pants off along with your underwear. He leaned away from your lips as he stared at you with a deep yearning in his eyes. He caressed his hands up your thighs, to your hips and then under your shirt. He pulled your shirt off to reveal your bare breasts.

“I hope you like what you see,” you said.

He smiled. “Of course. You’re beautiful beyond words.”

He then placed your right nipple in his mouth and swirled his tongue around your nipple. You moaned loudly as his tongue made your nipple feel a stimulation you never thought they could feel. He freed your nipple from his mouth as he quietly hushed you.

“We can’t let anyone know where in the same room together,” he whispered.

“I don’t care,” you said as you desperately leaned into him to steal another kiss.

He kissed you back. You held his head in place so he wouldn’t dare move away from you again. You soon felt his thumb circling around your clit. It wasn’t enough to make you stop kissing him but it made you release endless moans into his mouth. You then felt him shove two fingers into you which made you stop kissing him and set your moans free into the atmosphere. He pumped his fingers in and out of you so quickly you couldn’t find the time to catch your breath.

“If you can’t handle my fingers, how do you expect to handle my dick, beautiful?” He asked.

“I…I can,” you stammered.

He smiled. “I haven’t doubted you yet, have I??”

He took his fingers out of you and went to work on undoing his pants. You stared down at his huge bulge as he slipped down his pants and then his underwear. Your eyes widened as you saw his dick. He looked at you to see the amazement in your eyes. He softly chuckled as he grabbed your ass and squeezed it tight as he brought you forward to position you.

“Sit down on it and try not to be too loud,” he demanded.

You did what he asked and lowered yourself onto his dick. The further you went beyond the tip the more your mouth went agape. You could barely even get to the base without feeling as if his dick was already completely inside of you. He did you the favour and forced you all the way down on his dick. You let out a shriek which was cut short by him sticking his two fingers coated in your juices inside your mouth.

“Bounce on it and don’t make a sound. Understand?” He asked.

He nodded your head ‘yes’ for you and you started bouncing on his dick. You could feel your legs quaking as you engulfed his dick in and out of your repeatedly. Once you established a rhythm, you rolled your eyes to the back of your head and enjoyed every inch of his dick stretching your walls.

“How about we pick up the pace?” He asked.

Your eyes shot open as he bucked his hips up and disrupted your rhythm with his new set motion. You moaned heavily around his fingers as his dick kept ramming into you with no mercy. He used his other hand and squeezed your left breast. He licked your breasts before gently biting your nipple.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“I only ever treat extraordinary women like this,” he said.

“Really?” You moaned.

He lifted you off his dick and laid you on the bed. He gently wrapped his large hands around your throat as he positioned himself on top of you. You could feel your adrenaline pumping as he lowered his face down to yours and kissed you softly on your lips before he stared into your eyes.

“You’re the only extraordinary woman I know,” he said.

“Fuck me like an extraordinary woman,” you said.

He obliged and rammed his dick into you with urgency. You moaned repeatedly as you took in every inch of his dick inside of you. He kissed along your jawline before reaching your ear.

“Who gets fucked like this?” He asked.

“Extraordinary women,” you whimpered.

“And what are you?” He asked.

“An extraordinary woman,” you whimpered.

As he continued to fuck some sense into you, he whispered nothing but the sweetest things in your ear. He called you beautiful, brilliant, amazing and his favourite, extraordinary. It felt nice hearing those things being repeated over and over in your ear especially by him. His dick definitely enforced the message as with every word he said to you, his motion would intensify. You wrapped your legs around him as he continued to fuck you.

“Where do you want me to cum, beautiful?” He asked.

“Inside of me,” you moaned.

He tightened the grip around your neck. “Louder.”

“Inside of me,” you shrieked.

“Look at me while I cum inside of you,” he demanded.

He grabbed your face to keep you still so your eyes were focused on him the whole time. He bit his bottom lip as he stared at your worn-out expression as he fucked you. He slowly stopped going at his rapid pace and soon stopped. You felt his cum fill your insides and you let out a soft moan at the feeling.

He let go of your neck and eased up from on top of you. You felt him stick two fingers in you and he pulled them out quickly. He placed his cum covered fingers on your lips. You opened your mouth and licked the cum dripping off his fingers.

“I don’t ever want you to doubt yourself again. You’re fucking amazing,” he said.

You leaned up on your elbows and smiled. “You are too.”

“Since I can’t stay in your room for the night without raising suspicions in the morning, how about we do something when we get back home and you can stay the night at my place? You know, for extra reassurance,” he said with a smile.

You giggled. “I’d love that.”

He leaned into you and gave you another big kiss on the lips. As he parted from your lips he stared at you with softer eyes from before and brushed your hair back.

“Maybe I’ll stay for a few more minutes. You like cuddles?” He asked.

“I love them,” you said.

He chuckled. “Great because I have a deep desire to cuddle you and make you know you’re treasured.”

You could have cried when he said that. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pecked him on the lips. It wasn’t the best time to cry. You wanted to cherish the moment as a positive part of the day.

“Thank you, Spence. You’re extraordinary.”

“I guess that makes us a perfect match.”

“It sure does.”

—–

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection​, @slutforthegubes​, @pinkdiamond1016​, @spencerreidsthings​, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @slutforsr​ @bxtchboy69​, @fallinallinmendes​

MASTERLIST

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Just Ask

Prompts: Hey… So, I was wondering if you could write a fic where one of the sides are dyslexic? Since that usually just ends as "Oh, I can't read, oh no!" and not like the actual neurodiversity it is. Yes, I admit, I want to relate to one too, but… Well. It'd be awesome if you would, but if that's too tall an order or too specific that's fine too. If you do, though, maybe college AU with roceit? -anon

Hi you're amazing! I love your writing and brand of writing and just I've read a lot of your stories and I love them all kskejejwuwugfhsv-

I was wondering, if you take requests, that maybe you could write a human AU with fake dating Roceit? With confident fat Janus because we need that! Or not, that's your choice!

(I sound like some snob asking for a highly specific coffee shi-) - anon

oh babe y'all wanted to be FED huh

Read on Ao3

Warnings: slight ableist/fatphobic language

Pairings: roceit

Word Count: 2487

Sometimes, you can get all of your work done in the library. Sometimes, people are ableists.

And sometimes there's something wonderful in finding out there's someone there for you as well.

Roman scrubs his hands over his face and sighs. Between waiting ages at the printer or absolutely destroying his retinas by staring at a screen for hours on end, he isn’t unhappy with making the choice to save the environment by using less paper but god.

“At least this pdf was convertible,” he mutters, scrolling down to see how many pages he has left. The last four weren’t and reading without the right font is a fucking pain in the ass.

Seven pages left. Great.

Roman focuses on the screen and starts to mutter under his breath again. Focus on the word, figure it out, make the sentence, move on. Pause to take notes, make sure it’s legible to read later, and repeat.

A computer and heavy bag thuds onto the table next to him and he jumps, almost knocking his coffee over. He looks up, glaring at the person who stares down their nose at him like he’s some sort of stain. Rude.

“You’ve been here for like, three hours, dude,” they say, like that’s supposed to justify their behavior, “move. I need this spot.”

Roman looks around. There’s like, four more tables open. “Can’t you just go sit somewhere else?”

“No! This is my spot! You can go sit somewhere else.”

“Well,” Roman mutters, glaring at his screen again, “I was here first. So you can either wait until I’m done or sit down.”

“Dude, I swear—“

“Excuse me,” comes a smooth voice that has no business being this polished in the fucking library, “is this person bothering you, sweetie?”

Roman turns around and his mouth drops open.

“J-Janus?”

Janus raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms and glaring at the dick with the heavy bag. Who, as a matter of fact, seems to be muttering and stuffing shit back into said bag.

“Sorry I’m late,” Janus drawls, still sounding way too confident and way too much like he knows what’s going on, “got held up after class.”

“Uh, no problem,” he mumbles, glancing over his shoulder to see the asshole is still standing there, “just, um…working.”

“Ah, well then, you won’t mind if I join you.” And with that, Janus sits down with a flourish, propping his chin up on his hand and fixing the asshole with an impressive look of disgust. “And you…you can leave.”

“Look, buddy—“

“My partner and I have work to do,” Janus says, swiftly cutting them off and making sure Roman has no idea what’s going on, “now leave.”

Roman’s really glad there was no ambiguity that Janus could’ve been talking to him, because he’s about ready to bolt. Only when the asshole has retreated does Janus turn his gaze to him.

“Sorry about that,” he says, flicking a speck of imaginary lint from his gloves, “he seemed like he was bothering you. Thanks for playing along.”

“Oh, uh, no, I’m, uh—“ Janus raises an eyebrow as Roman stumbles over his words— “sorry. Uh, thanks?”

Janus chuckles. “Oh, no worries, sweetie. I was happy to do it. Although…”

Janus squints at him and Roman fights the urge to squirm under that gaze.

“You’re in my seminar class, aren’t you?” Roman nods. “The one that let out three hours ago?”

“Yeah, uh-huh.”

“Have you…been here since then?”

Roman nods, trying to get back to work and, you know, maybe get out of here, only for Janus to reach across the table and still his hands as he goes to pick up the pen again.

“Have you eaten?”

“What?”

“Eaten,” Janus says slowly, mouth stretching into a smile, “lunch, sweetie.”

“Uh—“ no, is the correct answer— “I was going to?”

Janus just gives him a look.

“…no.”

“Mm.” Janus glances at his computer and notebook. “You’re not by any chance attempting to read all of the assignments in one go, are you?”

Roman’s guilty flush seems to answer that question for him. Janus sighs and it’s such an odd mixture of disappointment and fondness Roman hasn’t earned that his brain spits out the only question he actually wants an answer to.

“Why are you here?”

Janus chuckles. “In the library, at this school, or are we already to the point of questioning the very nature of existence?”

Roman just blinks at him.

“Oh, relax, sweetie, I’m teasing.” Janus glances off in the vague direction the asshole wandered off to. He leans a little closer. “I know how…difficult it can be to try and do work when they bother you.”

Roman’s cheeks flush. “Oh, uh…thanks, then.”

Janus waves a hand. “It’s none of their business why you’re doing so much work at once. Even if it does make you skip lunch,” he adds with such a pointed look that Roman can’t help splutter.

“I was going to! And you’re not my mother!”

“No,” Janus purrs, “but like any good partner, I like to make sure my sweetie takes care of themselves.”

Roman does not squeak, despite Janus’s chuckles, but he does start to fiddle with his pen. “I can’t…stop yet.”

“Why ever not?”

“Can you stop,” Roman blurts, scrubbing his hands over his blushing face, “please? For like, two seconds?”

“Sorry, you’re just adorable.”

“Stop, dude, seriously, if you want an actual answer to the question?”

“I’m done,” Janus chuckles, “I’m done, sorry.”

Roman takes a deep breath. He fiddles with the pen. “It’s just—with my dyslexia, it takes a while to…find the, um…”

“Zone?”

“…sure.”

Janus hums in understanding. Then he reaches into his own bag and pulls out a book of his own. “Then we may as well work together until you’re finished.”

Roman blinks. Hi, hello, brain is confused, what just happened in the last five minutes?

Janus waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Sweetie? You okay?”

“Sorry, I’m just—trying to process what happened.” Roman blinks again. “Because it seems like some asshole tried to take my seat, you came up and pretended to be my partner to scare them away, proceeded to badger me about taking care of myself, and now you’re…still here?”

Janus nods. “That’s how I experienced it too, that’s correct.”

“…so now what’re we doing?”

“Well, I’m also going to try and get some work done, you’re going to finish your work, and then we’re going to get lunch.”

“And what about the dude that now thinks we’re partners?”

Janus looks at him and shrugs. “I’m game if you are.”

Roman blinks again. Is…Janus suggesting they fake being in a relationship to, what, defend Roman’s right to sit wherever the fuck he wants for however long in a library?

“What’s in it for you?”

“Pardon?”

“You heard me,” Roman says, “what’s in it for you?”

Janus’s fingers still on the book he’s pulled out. He sighs and looks up at Roman.

��How long have you known about your dyslexia?”

Jumping around a bit here, aren’t we? “About six years, why?”

“And you know how to manage it? For you?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“That doesn’t mean it goes away,” Janus says softly, “it’s still work, you just…know how to do it now.”

“Yeah, it still takes me time to do things, why—“ Roman’s eyes widen— “oh. Oh, wait, you mean—wait, what do they have against you?”

Janus’s mouth tugs up into a smirk. “How sweet.”

“Shut up,” Roman mumbles, “you know what I mean.”

Janus just winks at him before sobering. “Well,” he says wryly, gesturing at himself, “surely you can understand that…not everyone treats you very well when you aren’t the circumference of a toothpick.”

Oh. They’re those kind of assholes. Something Janus chuckles about when that thought gets out before Roman can stop them.

“Quite. I can manage them, but it’s still work.” He looks at Roman. “Maybe we can split the load?”

“I’m down with that.”

“Wonderful. Now,” Janus says, mock sternly, “get back to work. We have lunch to get.”

Roman chuckles. “Sure, sure, don’t ask to borrow my notes.”

“I would never, I just forget things like a cool person and make things up that the professor likes to hear.”

Yeah, this is gonna go just fine.

As it turns out, it does. Roman won’t lie, he was…skeptical about the viability of this plan of theirs. He’s read the stories. He knows how this works. He knows about the misunderstandings and whether it’s a bet or a dare, something goes wrong.

But…nothing does.

Watching Janus tear anyone to shreds is entertaining enough in class, where Roman gives up on taking debate notes and just watches because goddamn, but when he gets to stand there and just glare at some ableist while Janus verbally decimates them? Poetic cinema. He debates sneaking some popcorn into his jacket pocket but that would take away from the power of his glare.

And it is nice to have someone else do the work of glaring assholes away from his table when he’s working on reading. He would be lying if he said that actually having someone else to talk to isn’t part of it. It’s so much easier to keep track of where he’s messing up so he can focus on it during his exercises later.

“You know,” Janus remarks as they leave the library one day, “you can ask the professors for editable pdfs.”

“Huh?”

“For your font stuff.” Janus nods toward his backpack. “I know you like to change the font so you can read it better, most of them have editable copies of the materials.”

“Not for the eBooks and scans and stuff.”

Janus huffs, waving his hand. “How do you think they get the audio transcripts for the recorded versions? They have to transcribe it anyway, just ask for those.”

Roman stops. “How…how do you know those exist?”

Janus just taps the side of his nose and winks.

“Can…can you do that?”

“Of course.” Janus links his arm through Roman’s. “Anything for you.”

That shouldn’t do what it does to Roman’s chest.

Because yeah, okay, maybe Janus is…really cute.

Like, unfairly cute.

No one should be able to rock that hat all the time. And the gloves. And the pocket watch. And the curly hair. And the attitude. And the impressive vocabulary. And the razor-sharp wit. And he actually knows how to flirt! What is flirting? All Roman knows is Gay Panic™ and Suffering™. What is this? Why is it allowed?

And why, oh why, did Janus have to be the one that started the fake-dating idea?

Because here’s the thing. It would be so easy to just be friends with Janus. It would! They’re already friends now, fake-dating kind of does that to you. And Janus, despite what he wants everyone else to believe, is a fucking dork. His actual laugh is squeaky and bubbly and ugh, Roman could drown in it. And he’s really kind. It’s not the same breed of kind that Roman’s used to, but goddamn, Janus is so sweet when he lets himself be. And it’s been so long since Roman had like, an actual friend…

But it would also be so easy to be more than friends with Janus. To actually be able to take him out for dates and not just lunch at their janky cafeteria. To be able to spend time together that isn’t just for show, or platonic, or just hanging out ranting about stupid dead supposed-to-be-smart people.

Again, Roman’s read the stories. He knows how this is supposed to go.

So when he takes a little longer to pack up one day, enough that Janus notices and eases himself back down into his seat with a soft, real, ‘what’s wrong, sweetie, let me help,’ Roman prepares the bittersweet ‘nothing, I’m fine,’ and to swallow down everything real.

But instead…

“Can we, um, actually date?”

Janus blinks. “Come again, sweetie?”

Roman fiddles with the buckle on his bag. “I, um, I really appreciate what we’ve been doing, and I, um, I’m super happy being your friend…”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“…but I, um—“ god, why are words so hard?— “I think I would actually like to try…dating you. For real.”

He peeks up nervously at Janus.

“Is…is that okay?”

Janus sits there, silent. He blinks a few times. Then a slow, real smile spreads across his face.

“Roman,” he says softly, almost too quiet, even in the hush of the library, “why do you think I proposed this idea in the first place?”

Oh.

Oh.

Roman blinks. “Wait, you—you?”

A pretty flush covers Janus’s face. “Well, I…was planning to ask you normally, but then I saw you being absolutely tormented and…panicked.”

“You panicked?”

He throws his hands up. “Well, what was I supposed to do? The most gorgeous person in my seminar was being bullied and I was supposed to just let it happen?”

Wait. Back up. Roman is what?

“And yes, maybe I...wanted an excuse to be your friend first, but as I said, I panicked and so—“

“You—wait, you think I’m pretty?”

Janus stops, mouth open, before he’s scoffing. “Roman, have you seen yourself?”

“Uh—“

“At least you’re pretty,” Janus mutters under his breath, “pretty and dumb, but pretty.”

“Hey!”

“You can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time, sweetie.”

“Oh, says the man whose idea was to fake-date me because you wanted to actually ask me out!”

“I will not be lectured on dramatics from a theater kid.”

“That’s ex-theater kid to you.”

“Oh, you know once you go, you never come back.”

Roman giggles. Then he’s laughing. Janus joins in and oh, this is much better than shoving feelings down and pretending they don’t exist.

“You’re such a fucking dork.”

“No,” Janus purrs, reaching over to boop the end of Roman’s nose, “I’m your fucking dork.”

Oh. Oh, that sounds…really good. Roman’s chest is really warm now, when did that happen? Janus smiles too.

“So…dinner?”

“You’re paying.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

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If you want to be added/removed from the taglist, let me know!

[kakashihasibs]

Hi I am the genq anon, and I’m sorry I offended with my clumsily chosen words. I didn’t mean conversion therapy, I just meant like dbt or cbt, like that is used to treat OCD. I asked because I don’t know about transgender things but I have this disorder and it seemed similar to what you were experiencing. I don’t believe in conversion therapy and would never suggest it to anyone.

This is my last message, I don’t mean to harass you. Just thought maybe if you knew I wasn’t suggesting conversion therapy it might help you feel a little better about the interaction.

Thank you for reaching back out. I really do appreciate it. I know i was kind of short with you bc your question was frankly rude but I'm not inclined to hold grudges. There's no hard feelings on my end. I didn't feel harassed just suspicious of you.

You can ask more questions if you want! You can come off anon as well (tho DM me so there's no chance of me accidentally publishing an ask x_x). i wont doxx you bc that wouldn't be beneficial to either of us.

Just remember when asking these kinds of questions, you're asking someone who has thought about this. It's a little bit like telling someone with chronic pain to try yoga. I have had chronic pain for a long time of course I've tried or thought about yoga. Surgery is a serious thing, of course I've tired and thought about other things.

This got long so I'm putting it under a read more. I just go into the difference between intrusive thoughts and dysphoria. ^_^

I also know you weren't necessarily thinking of conversion therapy bc you did not say conversion therapy. But CBT or DBT being used with the aim of curing/getting rid of bottom dysphoria is going to end up being conversion therapy. It would be an attempt to change the way in which I am trans and at this point i have no interest in doing that.

Therapy can be helpful for learning coping mechanisms to deal with bottom dysphoria (or any dysphoria) until you can find a way to alleviate the root cause! For example I pack.

I actually do have intrusive thoughts as well though. And, the worry about someone clocking me or my bottom dysphoria is very different from intrusive thoughts.

For starters, fear of being clocked is grounded in the very real and reasonable fear of someone harming me for being trans x_x but

Intrusive thoughts, as I'm sure you know, are wholly unwelcomed and distressing. They are founded on our greatest fears or on things that are disgusting to us. My intrusive thoughts about harming someone plague me. Mercifully I'm medicated now and they are few and far between.

My dysphoria isn't so much an unwelcome or distressing thought. The causes of dysphoria and differ from person to person but for me it's a combination of just literally feeling like my body looked wrong and wanting it to look different, and from the expectations put on my body from other people.

Secondary sex traits are gendered. So breast, body hair, voice pitch, and so on are all treated as something that implies a certain gender. A high voice is a woman's voice and a low one is a man's. And while i reject that vehemently there's only so much that rejection can accomplish.

I am a guy full stop. But I'll rarely be acknowledged as a guy if people see traits they gender as woman. So, with this cause CBT would be idk gaslighting myself into thinking this isn't the case. Which would be irrational bc it very much is the case that people gender me based off of my secondary sex traits even if they shouldn't.

As for the wrongness? Well idk my brain just kinda got some sex and gender wires crossed i guess 🤷 there's no amount of therapy that would have "fixed" my chest dysphoria. Just like there's no therapy that can make me not dyslexic. It's just a part of me. I always hating having a chest. Even if i had never learned the word transgender i would have gotten that shit cut off. Didn't want it didn't need it. Therapy telling me otherwise would have been distressing to the point of traumatizing.

And before you're like well what about body dysmorphia, like with people with eating disorders? Regardless of cause this shit can kill you. Dymorphia that causes disorders kills. My dysphoria isn't going to kill me.

Also with dysmorphia, the symptoms dont go away after a surgery. People will still obsess over perceived flaws. After top surgery i was 100% content with my chest. I was elated even. It felt like the best thing i had ever done for myself. 10 out of 10 would recommend 🥰 no regrets.

Hmm i think I'm tapped out for now 🤔 I'm a little tired and have a headache so i hope this makes sense and flows well.

Suffice it to say, if there was a therapy to "cure" bottom dysphoria i wouldn't chose it. I'd still go with bottom surgery bc that's what I want for myself ^_^

[bigskydreaming]

Doing some writing today off and on between errands and work, and jumping around various Kings of the Sky installments, specifically Dick, Jason and Cass stuff, so probably gonna post snippets from a bunch of them as I go. 

(Kings of the Sky is an AU that goes canon divergent from the point of Jason calling Dick for advice for dealing with Bruce after the Garzonas case and where things end up going dramatically different from that point on. Including Jason not dying, being part of his own lineup of Titans between Dick and Tim’s, Dick being adopted not long after the Church of Blood incident, Cass being the third Wayne kid to be taken in and adopted and with Tim and Duke being next and then Damian coming along later once they find out about him. This is basically my ‘the family’s alright’ AU with largely ‘Good Dad Bruce’ except for Dick and then Jason yelling some sense into him about the other, respectively, in the first two installments, just FYI).

Anyway, this bit is from a story called “In Their Shadows Grow Trees Of Good and Evil,” set about a year after Cass has been adopted, when she and Jason are both sixteen and Dick’s twenty-one. Also just FYI, because canon has never been specific about what ways Cass is neurodivergent due to the comic-book style ‘rewiring’ of her brain so that she could learn to speak later in life, I tend to go with her being dyslexic and having aphasia. She sticks exclusively to sign language and being a silent presence in her costumed personas, so that there’s no chance of people connecting the dots between Black Bat and Cassandra Wayne, as she mostly speaks verbally in her civilian persona and doesn’t hide her aphasia. The reason there’s not likely to be any obvious signs of aphasia in the snippets of her I post is because I wait until I complete something to choose words at random to replace with aphasia-born mixups, so its more realistic and I’m not gearing her dialogue towards deliberately placed moments. Just in case you were wondering.

In Their Shadows Grow Trees of Good and Evil

“Hey Todd,” sneered an exquisitely obnoxious voice. “Why’s your sister so fucking weird?”

Jason sighed the sigh of a soul a mere century into its eternity of damnation as he rose from the lunch table he’d been studying at and crammed the rest of his books into his backpack. Then he pasted a cheerfully bland smile on his face and turned around, geared for academia warfare (teenage prep school edition).

“Hey Craig,” he said brightly. “Why’d you come out of the womb so ugly your parents had to tie a piece of steak around your neck just to get the family dog to go near you? Mysteries abound.”

The advancing junior slowed a step, momentarily rocked by his truly impressive return volley. The grimace Craig’s already gargoyle-esque features twisted into made his face even more unpleasant to look at than usual, which was quite the feat. Jason would have applauded if just looking at it hadn’t already turned him to stone.

But the bargain basement basilisk kept on towards him rather than turn tail and skulk off to pop his emotional blisters, so Jason sighed a sequel to his first one. Looked like it was one of those days where Craig felt up to powering through. Guess someone had eaten their self-esteem Wheaties that morning. Joy.

“You think you’re pretty hot shit, don’t you, Todd?”

Jason shrugged. “I mean, to be honest I kinda have a one track mind, so right now I’m mostly just thinking about punching you in your mistake.”

“My what?”

“Your face,” Jason elaborated with exaggerated patience.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god, I’m saying your face is a mistake. See, its not as fun when I have to stop and explain it to you. Ugh, you ruin everything.”

He neatly sidestepped the older boy as R2-Dumbass stayed frozen, smoke coming off of his internal CPU while trying to catch up. For a second Jason thought he was home free, but then he remembered the universe fucking hated him so haha, sucks to suck. Also, a small crowd had gathered to witness the verbal jousting match, and nothing invigorated an asshole like Craig more than an audience of like-minded peers. So there was that too.

“Whatever. Laugh it up all you want, you little shit,” the junior rallied. “But just remember, mocking your betters will never change the fact that you were born street trash and you’ll be street trash until the day you die.”

Honestly? Not his best effort. Jason almost felt bad using any of his good material. Seemed like overkill at this point. But he did have a strict Scorched Earth policy to maintain, so.....

“Yeah but my dad could buy out and ruin your dad so that means I still win, right?”

He smirked as the barb landed and Craig’s face set into a sunset vista of strangled purple and furious red. Bam. Direct hit.

“Listen, you - “

“Oh for fuck’s sake, it was rhetorical,” Jason interrupted. “I don’t actually care what you think even a little bit. Nobody does. You don’t matter. Please go be irrelevant elsewhere, you’re fucking dismissed, you loser.”

“Speak for yourself, charity case.” Oh goodie, Craig’s backup singers had finally arrived. Now if only he could remember to care enough to learn their names in the first place. Seriously, who told the extras they could have lines? “All the jokes in the world can’t change who and what you are.”

Jason shrugged and continued nonchalantly up the hill to where his sister was standing with arms crossed, staring down at something on the other side.

“True genius is never appreciated in its own time,” he tossed back over his shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll be immortalized in song eventually.”

The mob of morons deigned to let him go without further incident. Though he suspected that had less to do with his scathing wit and more to do with him being headed towards Cass. She was immaculately presented as always, wearing the Gotham Academy uniform like she was born to it despite hating its uncomfortable stiffness every bit as much as he did. But that was just Cass for you. 

For all that she still struggled at times to engage verbally or speak up in social settings, her mastery of body language remained without peer. She could chameleon-camouflage her way into matching poise and posture with anyone - a skill that had allowed her to walk into school on her very first day with her head held high as though she owned everything in her sight. Exuding so much Queen Bee Intimidation Factor even the other hive queens were afraid to approach her  themselves. Sending forth their drones to try and woo her into an alliance, only to see her remain oh-so-casually above it all, a slightly contemptuous smile adorning her lips.

Basically, she scared the shit out of their classmates without them having anywhere close to a true understanding of why, and Jason was outrageously jealous. Rude. Unfair. Why did his siblings always get all the cool toys when all he had was his rakish charm, scintillating intellect and debonair.....nah, who was he kidding. He was fucking awesome. 

“Sup, sis,” he said, cresting the hill to stand beside Cass. “Just FYI, I just took a popularity bullet for you, which means you owe me your dessert tonight. Its a family rule that’s totally a real thing and definitely not something I just made up right now because Alf is making chocolate soufflé.”

She made no acknowledgment and remained stock still, a Colossus at Rhodes peering down into the shifting shadows of the parking lot below.

He peered down as well, though with absolutely no idea what they were looking at. Solidarity, yo.

“So are we staring fixedly at anything in particular, or should I just pick my own spot and commit?”

His humor was totally wasted on her as always. Instead of laughing and telling him what a lovable goof he was, she just inclined her head in the direction of a blonde girl where she was standing next to the driver’s side door of a Mercedes-Benz, dictating final commandments to her peons before departing. Well, probably. Jason was just guessing, based on his own body language reads, and like, general disdain for literally everyone at this school that wasn’t related to him.

He made a face. An extra special one reserved just for this classmate in particular. “Ugh, Madison Dunleavy? She’s the worst.”

Cass raised a cool eyebrow. “I thought Craig Hendricks was the worst.”

“He is. They’re both the worst. Its a hotly contested position here at Gotham Academy.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded back down at the Queen of Air and Darkness. “So. You know her?”

“Nope,” Jason said. “Come to think of it, I’ve actually never seen her in my life. No idea who that is. Can’t help you, sorry. Shall we go home?”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition speared him with clear intent. Who the fuck needed words when you could pack the Encyclopedia Britannica into a single facial expression?

Jason sighed gustily. 

“I had a slight altercation with her freshman year that led to her declaring her undying enmity for me until the end of time. The word nemesis may or may not have been thrown around once or twice. I can’t recall.”

The Eyebrow of Inquisition lowered nary an inch. Ugh, she wanted more? Why did everyone in his family hate privacy, with the obvious exclusion of himself when snooping through Cass and Dick’s rooms for blackmail material, which was actually intel-gathering and thus another matter entirely.

“Okay so basically what happened was my first week here I overheard her talking shit about me and not even twenty minutes later she was pretending to kiss my ass in homeroom, like probably because of Bruce, y’know? So I just busted out laughing and told her to fuck off and die and she has inexplicably loathed me ever since.”

Avoiding further Eyebrow Inquisition-ing, he made a show of peering around aimlessly. When the silence extended and it was clear Cass was absolutely not going to break first, Jason waved a hand in dismissal and took to peering oh so casually at his fingernails. "I suppose I was less tactful back in those days.”

He chanced a look up, finally, and saw his sister’s eyebrow had somehow managed to mighty morphin power ranger its way into a configuration evoking both judgment and disbelief, with the latter perhaps aimed at the idea he was significantly differing in the tact department these days either.

“I don’t love the implications your face is making right now,” he told her.

She ignored him, because of course she did. 

“Does she know Dick?” She asked instead. Jason shrugged.

“I mean, maybe? She’s probably seen him around at one of those stupid galas we have to go to, and actually I think maybe she has an older brother who was either in Dick’s grade or like, one above or below it? I don’t know.”

Now both eyebrows were doing the dance of disbelief. Okay, so maybe that was poor situational awareness on his part, since it wasn’t like Gotham Academy was a big school with a ton of other kids and also he’d only been in the same class as Madison for like over two whole years, but whatever. There were extingent circumstances.

“Look, she’s a total snob who’s always looked down on me and in return I willfully ignore both her existence and that of everyone and everything even tangentially related to her. Its called equality, Cass.”

She pursed her lips and went back to the peering, because of course in the mind of Cass it made total sense that the Grand Inquisition didn’t need to be followed up by any explanation on her part, what the hell. Like was he supposed to have inferred it?

“What’s this all about anyway?”

“I heard her talking about Dick earlier,” she said without peeling her eyes away from her personal recon mission. “I don’t know what she said though, I just heard her say Grayson, and then I was busy looking at what her body was saying. I know it was about Dick because she shut down when she saw me. And I didn’t like the way she....looked....before that happened. The way she was talking. It was.....”

Jason frowned but held back any follow-up questions while he waited - with total patience because he wasn’t an absolute cad, thank you very much - for his sister to find the word she was hunting for. It was a major source of frustration for her, that whatever neural map her brain followed put body language and spoken language in totally different regions of her brain, separated by a fairly great divide. Meaning she usually had to make a conscious choice to focus on body language or conventional languages - whether verbal or sign. But it tended to be one or the other; she’d yet to master taking in and comprehending both forms of ‘language’ at the same time. And none of them had quite figured out how to convince her that she wasn’t actually missing anything when she chose to focus on one specific form of communication - that she was still observing far more than most people ever would.

“Proprietary,” Cass settled on at last. She nodded her satisfaction with her choice of word, and Jason waited a whole two point five seconds before sticking  his whole foot in his mouth.

“Proprietary?” He asked with a scrunched nose as he weighed that for possible context and implications. “You sure?”

She glared. He winced. It was a whole thing.

“Yeah, I know, sorry, sorry, I heard it the second it was out of my mouth. We don’t actually have to experiment with the legitimacy of if looks could kill.”

Cass rolled her eyes, but eh. That could’ve gone worse.

Jason swiftly redirected attention anyway. Discretion is the better part of valor, after all.

“So. The Queen of Air and Darkness was talking about our big bro, and her mood was.....proprietary, huh?” He recapped while digesting the info like a boss. “Well. Definitely not loving that, I gotta say. Hold please.”

Pulling out his phone and pulling up his most recent texts, he began typing furiously.

“What are you doing?” Cass asked.

“Texting Tom,” he replied, because duh. Hah, now it was his chance to have the answers that should be patently obvious and thus make with the ‘are you kidding me’ when she asked obvious questions she should know the answer to! How do you like them apples, sis?

“Why are you texting your boyfriend right now?”

Jason rolled his eyes, because fair is fair, but never ceased texting for a moment. Time was of the essence here, probably. Well, maybe. Okay probably not. But it’d still been like half an hour since he and Tom had last texted and that’s a very fucking long time in teenage years.

“To be our getaway driver tonight, obviously.”

She stared at him. He didn’t look up, but he could feel it anyway. He was very intuitive like that.

“What?”

Jason heaved another sigh, one keyed to tones of ‘oh my god, do I really have to spell this out,” exasperation. He was just racking up the bonus points here. It was really too bad this wasn’t an actual competition he could actually win and this was all just pettiness taking place wholly in his own head. Lame. 

“Well, clearly we now have to go snoop in Madison’s house aka lair to see if its actually a house or a full on lair. Because she’s either a creeper or like, legit evil, and its important to know which one before we proceed, because obviously we can only bust her for being a weird creeper about our brother as Jason and Cass, whereas if she’s legit evil, that’s gotta go down as Robin and Black Bat. I’ll handle the snooping, you’ll take look-out, but we still need a wheelman and that’s why I’m texting Tom. This is all very mission-oriented, okay. I’m a professional.”

“Right,” she affirmed, while sounding anything but convinced. “Why don’t we just tell Bruce?”

Without looking up or breaking stride, he said: “I’m going to give you til I finish typing this sentence to figure out what was wrong with what you just said. Remember that we are talking about hypothetical danger to our brother, and also Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response to any of his children being in even hypothetical danger. And also our brother’s idea of a proportionate response to Bruce’s idea of a proportionate response. Look, you’re still new so I’m gonna need you to just trust me on this one. Its gonna be a no on telling Bruce without further intel.”

Cass said nothing in response to that, which meant that she was conceding the point and recognized the wisdom of his words. Or maybe that she was just gonna go ahead and do what she wanted anyway and just wasn’t bothering to fight about it, but it was probably that first thing.

“Well you better not just make out with your boyfriend all night,” is what she said at last, and that got his attention reeeeeal quick like.

“Umm. Wow. Okay. So, first off, you’re not the boss of me and who I make out with and when, so jot that down. And second, now I’m definitely going to make out with my boyfriend extra hard, with the exception of when we are actually on our recon mission because as previously established, I am a professional. And also, again, you’re not the boss of me.”

Jason ignored her Eye Roll With Extra Emphasis, and instead just held up his phone to Text With Extra Emphasis, as he read along with what he was typing.

“By the way babe, we have to make out extra hard tonight,” he said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth while he dragged out his dictation with the kind of focus that usually led to Bruce asking why he couldn’t apply as much intensity to training as he did to pettiness. “Cass has suddenly decided she can dictate terms to me and I need to shut that shit down ASAP, so thank you in advance for your assistance in this matter. Smoochies and other gay stuff to the best boyfriend ever.”

Jason frowned as a response pinged back seconds later. 

TheCatsMeow: ....the things I put up with for the sake of your weird family dynamics.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah, yeah. You’re a saint among were-panthers. Must you mock? Why can’t you just tell me I’m pretty instead?

TheCatsMeow: Sorry. Let me try again. OMG you’re so pretty Jase how did I get so lucky xoxo.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: No. Its too late. It feels forced and unbelievable now. You’ve ruined it forever.

TheCatsMeow: Got it. From now on I will only tell you that you’re repulsive and hideous.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: I’m breaking up with you.

TheCatsMeow: But after I help you with your mission tonight.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Obvsly. I’m a professional. Why do people keep forgetting this?

TheCatsMeow: And also the making out to spite your sister.

TheOnlyRobinThatRocks: Yeah we should do that first too. I mean we already penciled it in.

[blossom-hwa]

valentine’s day + golcha ✧

blame @wingkkun​ for enabling me :) as well as @thepixelelf​ for putting up the list of valentine’s day prompts on her network @newskynet​ (check out the list and the network here!) that inspired these little blurbs! i really encourage anyone to join in on the event and use the prompts, they’re super cute and hella funny :) 

anyway happy early valentine’s day! there’ll be more blurbs for the boyz and stray kids leading up to the day of, and changmin’s interwoven story will top the holiday off <3

(find other valentine’s day blurbs for the boyz and stray kids here whenever i put up the masterlist!)

pairing: golcha x gender neutral!reader (one blurb for each member!)

wc: 4.9k (total)

genre: fluff, pure fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing, like one slightly implied mention of sex (it’s the first couple sentences of sungyoon’s story, but absolutely nothing explicit)

stray kids version | the boyz version

Golden Child Masterlist

9. “i’m allergic to roses.”

jaehyun doesn’t know why his boss decided to give him the valentine’s day shift. it’s annoying and stupid and dumb, especially when he just wants to spend the entire day with you, but you have class and he has work. so jaehyun resigns himself to being forced to work in the pits of hell on the supposed day of love (it’s a drugstore on valentine’s day. he’s pretty sure he won’t even be able to count the number of boyfriends and girlfriends who’ve forgotten to buy their partner a gift and have come to this shitty CVS for a last minute card or box of chocolates). 

slumped over on the counter after opening, waiting for the first wave of poor significant others to come washing in, jaehyun doesn’t even bother to move when the automatic doors slide open and a few pairs of footsteps sound on the floor. only when someone steps in front of him does he actually look up, immediately plastering on his customer service smile (that you’ve always found simultaneously hilarious and scary - “you look so dead inside, i don’t know what to say!” “i’m not dead inside!” “jaehyun, you’re in university. we’re all dead inside”), but it immediately drops when you step up to the counter and pass over a bouquet of tulips (not roses this time, thank god - jaehyun doesn’t need a repeat of the time you brought them and he had to break it to you between sneezes that “i’m allergic to roses.”), laughing at the expression of shock on his face. 

“wanted to bring you something nice in the morning since we won’t see each other until later,” you explain, pushing the bouquet into his hands. “i’ll meet you in front of your dorm, right? don’t be late.” 

holding the flowers, jaehyun doesn’t know what to do but nod and smile, smile so brightly it feels like the sun has come down to rest in his heart because by god, you’re the sweetest thing in this entire world and he loves you so, so much. “okay,” he breathes, unable to stop his eyes from crinkling as he smiles. “i’ll see you then.”

you lean over the counter and press a brief kiss on his lips. the bouquet nearly falls to the ground as he scrambles to lean in, to extend this bit of affection as long as he can, but then someone coughs and you two break away, jaehyun red-faced and blushing, you laughing as both of you turn to the customer holding two bags of lollipops with a smirk and a raised eyebrow on their face. jaehyun only blushes harder as you squeeze his hand one last time, supremely unconcerned, and murmur “see you later” before walking back out the door. 

14. “you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

exactly one week ago, jangjun’s professor gave the entire lecture hall a stern talking-to regarding valentine’s day activities in class. no kissing, no inappropriate PDA, and “no giving out candy or confessions unless you’ve brought enough for the entire hall.” and given the fact that this is a lecture hall of just under a hundred students, no one is eager to break that rule. 

but on valentine’s day, you come running in just two minutes before class starts, a large shopping bag banging against your legs as you sprint to your seat next to jangjun. he frowns at the bag, looking up at you in confusion, but you only give him a shit-eating grin as the professor walks to the podium. just as he’s about to start the slides, you raise your hand. “professor, i have candy to pass out.”

a whisper runs through the hall as jangjun starts to laugh. you really would. you actually would. y/n, you perfect bastard. professor just raises an eyebrow that jangjun can see all the way from his seat halfway across the hall and replies “do you have enough for the entire class?”

“as a matter of fact, i do!” reaching into the bag, you pull out two packages of lollipops and brandish them in the air. “all in the spirit of valentine’s day, professor!”

the hall devolves into chaos and laughter and shouts as you run down the rows, throwing candy at every student. jangjun’s laughing with everyone else - even the professor can’t help a smile as you hand him a lollipop too - but then he realizes you’ve completely bypassed his row. no matter, though, right? you’ll probably just come back and give him one when you come back to your seat, or he’ll steal a lollipop away from you. that’s how best friends work, obviously.

but then you’re running down the stairs, finished passing out candy for the rest of the hall. jangjun expects you to slide into your seat but you don’t, instead stopping at the end of the row and tossing him his favorite flavor of lollipop. he grins, about to say something, but your smile has turned slightly nervous and he’s confused - you’re never nervous, never, you didn’t even look like this before you had your first job interview - but then your gaze takes on a steely  determination that’s more characteristic of his favorite friend ever and you say, “wanna go on a date with me?”

screams erupt from the seats around him, but jangjun can only stare as he tries to comprehend what you said. his mouth moves to form words and they are not the words he wants but he never thinks before he speaks and certainly not now when his brain is literally fraying at the edges - 

“you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

your gaze shutters, your eyes turning dim. the smile on your face is still there but it’s a little forced and jangjun starts panicking because what the fuck, that’s not what he meant, and - “oh my god, y/n, i’m an idiot, i didn’t mean to say that, yes i want to go out with you, holy fuck i’ve wanted to literally since we met -”

“jangjun? shut up.”

he shuts up, terrified he’s messed up forever. but you’re smiling. you’re smiling so wide it looks like the stars themselves have come down to grace your eyes as you sit down next to him and tangle your fingers with his.

there are more screams and someone’s camera flashes but jangjun doesn’t care. he doesn’t fucking care, not when you’ve just asked him out when he’s been pining for you for probably years at this point and jangjun knows he’s grinning like an idiot when he squeezes your hand once, softly, and you squeeze back, winking as you pop a last lollipop into your mouth.

13. “you’re so cheesy. i love it.” (slightly amended from “this is so cheesy. i love it.”)

daeyeol may be dyslexic, but he certainly isn’t blind. as the ta for this lecture section, he’s had a front row seat to the obvious pining tension between jangjun and his best friend since they stepped into class on the first day. when they hand daeyeol a lollipop, he can see jangjun smiling like an absolute idiot even so far away, and when oblivious idiot #1 finally pulls themselves together and asks jangjun on a date, the professor himself can’t help but grin even as he starts clapping his hands to bring the class to order.

as the lecture goes on, daeyeol lets his thoughts wander. he’s been over this particular set of slides so long he could probably talk about them in his sleep (and according to sungyoon, he actually has, though he has no video proof so daeyeol will just put that down to his roommate exaggerating), so he doesn’t feel too bad about not paying attention as the professor keeps talking. he has better things to think about - namely his plans for later today. 

yeah, he has a date. he has a date with, in his humble opinion, the most wonderful and beautiful person in the world. he can’t help but smile when the image of your eyes crinkled in a laugh runs through his mind, the sound of your giggles and snorts making his heart flutter with excitement because holy fuck, he may not want to be in class, but at least he’s going to get to see you for hours later today. 

if he wasn't the ta, he’d be the first one out of class. instead, though, he stays a couple minutes to talk to the professor (he smirks a little bit when jangjun and his best friend-turned-significant other walk out the door, still holding hands) before he finally deems it polite to say goodbye and rush out of the lecture hall to his dorm so he can get changed. 

he’s breathless when he walks out of the flower shop to meet you just an hour later, clutching a bouquet of flowers in his hands. despite the fact that you two have been dating for months already, he still turns shy when you accept the flowers, eyes sparkling in delight. your gaze only turns sweeter, lovelier when you look up from the bouquet to give him a hug, wrapping your arms around him tightly as your body presses against his. 

“i missed you,” he murmurs into your ear, holding you as close as he can. 

you laugh. “we saw each other yesterday, daeyeol.”

his name still sounds like honey from your lips. “yeah, but that was still too long.” 

again you laugh, pulling away. before he can complain, your hand slips into his, automatically tangling your fingers together. “you’re so cheesy,” you announce as though you haven’t said the same thing a million times over the course of the last few months. “i love it. anyway, should we go?”

daeyeol smiles, squeezing your hand. “of course. come on.”

4. “valentine’s day is just a ploy to make people buy heart-shaped stuff.” / “what’s that in your hands?” / “none of your business.”

jibeom isn’t anti-valentine’s day, not exactly. it’s just that he doesn’t entirely care for the way capitalism has decided to commercialize love through chocolates and teddy bears when a handwritten card would mean more to him than the most expensive candies in the world. 

which is why he teases daeyeol when the older boy comes into the flower shop where he works part time, even as he wraps up the bouquet of pink and red roses. “still a slave to capitalism, i see.”

daeyeol just snorts. “you think i didn’t see the flower crown you were making when i walked in?”

“yeah, well, i made it. i didn’t buy it.” jibeom ties the last ribbon in a large bow. “i’m not going to be a slave to the machinery of this shitty economic system. valentine’s day is just a ploy to make people buy heart-shaped stuff.”

“what’s that in your hands?”

jibeom shoves a heart-shaped box of chocolate under the counter. “none of your business.”

"yeah, right.” daeyeol snorts, taking the bouquet of flowers. “well, enjoy your date later. hope y/n likes the chocolates.”

jibeom sniffs. “you enjoy yours.” 

with that, daeyeol walks out to meet his partner. jibeom averts his eyes (it’s so weird seeing someone he thinks of as his older brother kissing or hugging something else, even if it’s sweet), but then the door opens again and a wide smile spreads across jibeom’s face when you walk into the shop. 

“your shift is over,” you announce, hopping on a nearby stool so you can lean your elbows on the counter. “time to go!”

“y/n, for the last time, i can’t just end my shift when i want to,” jibeom says. he’s still smiling, though - he knows you don’t mean it, knows that you’ll just hang around and bother him until his shift is actually over and the two of you can go to whatever reservation you made this year. 

you groan. “come on, that’s no fun.”

jibeom snorts. “here, maybe this will keep you busy.” he hands you the chocolate he bought early that morning from a dead-eyed jaehyun (thank god for the flowers his partner brought him at the start of his shift or he probably would’ve keeled over at that point). “happy valentine’s day.”

with a delighted screech, you tear into the box. jibeom watches in amusement. “i thought you didn’t like participating in the valentine’s day capitalist commercialization of love?” you ask, mouth full. 

“i don’t.” jibeom shrugs. “but if it’s for you...”

he doesn’t get to finish before you yank him down by the neck of his shirt to press a full kiss to his lips. “jibeom, i love you more than you can imagine,” you declare when you finally pull away. 

you look beautiful, lips slightly swollen, eyes sparkling. jibeom lifts the finished flower crown from behind the counter and puts it on your head. “there. perfect.”

“hm?” you look up, smiling when you realize what he’s given you. 

“you looked beautiful before,” jibeom explains. “but now you look even more perfect.”

“are you saying that because of your flower crown, i look nicer?” you frown in mock disapproval. “jibeom, that’s awfully egocentric.”

“well, am i wrong?”

your frown splits into a wide grin as you shake your head. “no, not at all.” you squeeze his hand. “anything from you makes me feel beautiful, no matter what it is.”

21. “for me?”

“don’t mind them, jibeom and his partner won’t suck face too much.” the worker rolls his eyes as he walks forward, leading joochan further into the store. “you said roses, right? red roses?”

“yeah.” joochan takes a deep breath, trying to stop himself from screaming internally. “red roses.”

but even as the worker - seungmin, his name tag says - leads him to a selection of deep red flowers, joochan’s starting to second guess himself. what if flowers come off too strong, roses no less? it’s only the first date - and by god, he’s lucky you even accepted, you’re the wittiest and most amazing person he’s ever come across, he never imagined you would actually say yes - and joochan has no idea what to do, how to act, least of all with flowers. 

dimly, joochan becomes aware of seungmin deftly tying the roses together before handing him the bouquet. “come up to the front, you’ll pay there.” he snorts. “hopefully jibeom and his partner aren’t being idiots.”

“i heard that!” comes an indignant shout from the front. despite his nerves, even joochan cracks a smile when seungmin forcefully elbows jibeom out from behind the counter, forcing his partner to stop him from falling over. “yeah you heard that, you think i would’ve said it if i didn’t want you to hear?” seungmin snaps, fingers flying on the register. “that’ll be -”

“joochan?!”

what.

what the fuck. 

joochan spins on his heel to see you standing not three feet away from him, a bouquet of flowers clasped in your own hands as someone else rings up your purchase. for a moment, you two only stare at each other. 

god, joochan wants to melt into the floor. 

“i -” you swallow. “sorry. hi, joochan.”

“hi,” he squeaks, fingers clutching roses in a vice grip. “uh... didn’t expect to see you here?”

“i wanted to get flowers for you,” you mumble, staring resolutely at the ground.

joochan’s brain makes the windows shutting down noise. “for - for me?”

“yeah.” you half-smile, laughing a little as you point at your bouquet. joochan wants to immortalize the sound of your laugh forever in his ears. “wait - here.”

suddenly, joochan has two bunches of roses in his hands and he doesn’t know what to do with either of them. your fingers brush his skin as you hand over the flowers. joochan can feel himself getting redder by the second as he finally figures out that he should also hand over his bouquet to you. 

seungmin’s voice stops him. “you still need to pay,” he says, eyes screwed almost shut with suppressed laughter. 

“oh - right. sorry.” joochan hands his card over, face flaming. seungmin swipes it, gives it back, and joochan finally passes his roses to you. 

for another two seconds, you two just stare, but then you smile (and joochan subsequently feels like his brain is leaking out of his ears, you’re too amazing to look at). “shall we?”

you’ve extended a hand. joochan looks at it dumbly, uncomprehending, but then he realizes you’re asking to hold his hand. gingerly he nods, pressing his palm into yours as an involuntary smile splits his face. “okay,” he breathes. “let’s go.”

25. “i love you.”

“that was... something.” you turn to seungmin, second-hand embarrassment written all over your face. understandable. even if seungmin found it funny, the awkward romantic tension in the air before joochan and his partner left was enough to make his insides curdle. of course, being a perfect worker, he didn’t show it, but...

“were we ever like that?” seungmin wonders aloud, tightening his apron.

jibeom snorts from where he’s taking off his own apron, finished with his shift. lucky bastard. “no, but you’re worse.” he pulls off the green smock, hanging it on a nail in the back. “you’ve been in love since you were like, five. disgustingly mushy.”

“you two suck face in the back whenever you have a spare moment,” you snap, throwing a small handful of discarded leaves at them. 

jibeom’s partner shrugs. “better than being overly romantic and making everyone want to puke on how adorable you two are.” they wave as jibeom drags them out of the shop and down the street. 

you sigh. “sucks that we got the full shift,” you mumble, slumping over the counter. “wish we were doing something better.”

“hey, we get to avoid the crowds tomorrow when we go for our late valentine’s day dinner.” seungmin sits next to you, pulling a bit of leaf out of your hair. “isn’t that better?”

“yeah.” you sit up, leaning against your elbow to smile at him. even after so many years together, the sparkle in your eyes still makes seungmin’s heart flutter. “kinda works out. i just don’t want to work.”

“lazy,” seungmin teases, kissing you briefly. 

despite the insult, you smile against his lips before pulling away. “asshole.”

“hey,” he whines. “an asshole wouldn’t do this, would they?” he picks up a discarded rose - still perfect, really, the stem just got snapped a little too short for a bouquet - and tucks it behind your ear. “would they?”

you laugh. “no, of course not.” you rise from your seat and glance from side to side. when nobody enters the shop, you wrap your arms around his neck. seungmin’s hands automatically loop your waist as you kiss him long, full, deep. 

“i love you,” you murmur against his lips. “i love you every day, regardless of whether or not it’s valentine’s day.”

“same here.” seungmin raises a hand, cups your cheek. you lean into his touch. “i love you too, y/n.”

3. “what, no roses?”

when sungyoon walks into the flower shop, a tray of coffee in hand, to see two of his friends locking lips just behind the counter, he only sighs. at least they aren’t trying to eat each other’s faces like some other couples he saw in the cafe today. and not much could be worse than that one time daeyeol forgot to hang a sock on the door before sungyoon got back home. 

seungmin and his partner of well over five years (they’re cute. disgustingly cute and so in love it makes sungyoon want to retch sometimes) break apart, thankfully, when he puts two cups of coffee on the counter. “enjoy,” he deadpans to a nonplussed seungmin and his equally unbothered partner. 

"oh, thanks.” seungmin takes one, draining half of it in one go. “oh my god, this is so good.”

“of course, it is, sungyoon made it.”

sungyoon nearly jumps. how is it that you always manage to sneak up on him? he can’t figure it out. but even though his heart is pounding, he turns around with a smile on his face to catch you when launch yourself into his arms for a hug. “hey, sungyoon,” you murmur into his skin.

“hey, yourself.” he smiles, pulling away to take you in. “you look beautiful.” as always. 

“you don’t look too bad yourself,” you tease, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind your back, smiling widely. “for you.”

sungyoon smiles, taking the delicate stems between his hands. “what, no roses?”

“nope,” you reply, popping the p. “our shop ran out. and i’m not about to buy from my competitors.”

a scoff sounds as sungyoon laughs. you narrow your eyes at seungmin and his partner, who are both replying to your gaze with mock glares of their own. it actually used to be a real point of contention, the fact that sungyoon had started dating a worker at the rival florist a few streets away, but now it’s all fun and games.

tulips and carnations, pink and red, fragrant and delicate. sungyoon breathes in their scent before turning back to the counter to hand you one of the last two cups of coffee in the tray. “your favorite.”

“thanks.” you take a long sip before leaning in to kiss him with coffee-tasting lips. “ready to go?”

“absolutely.” he takes your hand, squeezing your palm gently. “come on. we’ve got a long evening planned, don’t we?”

11. “it’s so cold! why can’t valentine’s day be in summer?!”

bomin collapses on the floor as the music turns off for the last time that evening. “oh my god,” he gasps, staring at the ceiling. “y/n, i literally hate you.”

“not my fault you aren’t flexible enough,” you snip, effortlessly folding your legs as you sit down next to his prone figure. “now get up. i got you coffee from that place you like.”

in a flash, he’s sitting, making grabby hands for the cup between your fingers. “did sungyoon make it?” 

“yes.” you roll your eyes but hand him the coffee anyway, smiling. “sometimes i think you love him more than me, you know?”

“impossible.” bomin pouts at you over the cup. “i love you more than anything.”

“i know, i’m just teasing.” you stand, reach out a hand, and pull him up. “gross, you’re all sweaty.”

“i just danced for an entire hour and on our anniversary no less, valentine’s day, the most romantic day of the year -”

“yeah, yeah.” you nudge him with your shoulder as you two leave the studio. “you’re the one who told me to make sure you do your stretching exercises every day, right? valentine’s day is no exception. we did so much earlier in the day, too - you can’t say we didn’t have fun.” a smirk rises on your lips and you nudge him again. “besides, whose fault is it that our anniversary is on the cheesiest day of the year?”

bomin groans as the two of you walk out into cold air. “listen, daeyeol and everyone else was giving me extremely bad advice and i couldn’t wait and i just wanted it to be romantic, okay -”

“i know.” you pause in your step, reach up, and press a soft kiss on his lips. “i know, bomin. you’ve told me this before.”

“then don’t tease me,” he grumbles, dodging donghyun and youngtaek as they run, screaming about cold, into the dance studios where it’s warmer. “it’s so cold,” he continues grumbling, burrowing his head into his coat. “why can’t valentine’s day be in summer?”

a laugh sparkles from your lips, and against his grumpy will, bomin finds the corners of his mouth lifting at the sound. “can’t exactly control when a saint dies,” you reply, linking your arm with his. “and isn’t it kind of sweet? holding hands to keep each other warm?”

bomin sighs, allowing the smile to full spread across his face. “i guess,” he concedes, unlinking your arms so he can hold your hand in his. “still doesn’t mean i don’t want to get back to the dorms and cuddle you right now.”

“well, the faster you go, the faster we get back!” you fling his hand away, sprinting forward onto the path. “last one back is the bigger idiot!”

“hey!” bomin complains, trying to follow behind on legs still shaky from exercise. “hey, slow down!”

“hell no!” you yell. “running fast will get you warm!”

(bomin does catch up to you in the end, grabbing your hand just outside the dorm and spinning you around to press a laughing kiss against your lips. he’s warm, now, warm from the exercise, but he feels far warmer from the feeling of your arms wrapped around him.)

5. “30 roses, one for every cat you’re gonna have when you’re old and alone.”

at first, donghyun doesn’t notice when you appear in the dance studio. you come in quietly, the noise of the door opening and closing overpowered by the music blasting from the speaker in the corner. he’s too focused on youngtaek and his partner, making sure every one of their movements is perfectly in sync. 

when the music fades, clapping sounds and donghyun turns to see you standing just inside the studio, smiling behind a large bouquet of roses. he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face as he bounds up to you and crushes you in a sweaty hug. “hi.”

“hello to you too, sweaty.” you push him away playfully. “don’t crush the roses!”

donghyun pouts but obediently wipes his face off on a towel youngtaek hands him. “you value the roses over me,” he whines. 

“not so.” you laugh. “i value the roses because they’re for you, and when i actually hand them over, i want them to still look nice.”

donghyun melts into the wooden studio floor. he really does. youngtaek takes advantage of his whipped™ moment and shoves him out the door with his belongings, leaving you to follow behind as fast as possible before you’re trapped in the studio. 

once outside, you take donghyun’s (now dry) hand. “flowers for donghyun,” you announce, pressing the bouquet into his other palm. “thirty roses, one for every cat you’re gonna have when you’re old and alone.”

“old and alone?” donghyun stops in his tracks. “what about you?”

“oh shit.” you laugh. “i didn’t think about that. i’ll be there with you, of course. just us and our thirty cats. unless you get tired of me before then.”

you say it with a joking tone, but donghyun still pouts at your words. “i’m not going to get tired of you,” he says, squeezing your hand tighter. “never, y/n.”

a small, shy smile spreads across your lips and donghyun revels in the feeling of making you feel flustered on this lovely day. “all right, donghyun.” the smile grows wider. “i could never get tired of you either.”

he kisses your cheek, kisses the corner of your lips. you start whining for him to give you a real kiss and he laughs, dancing out of the way. “only if you promise not to say stuff like that anymore,” he bargains, dodging your lips. “promise!”

“i promise!” you trap him between your arms, leaning in close as your eyes sparkle. “i promise, donghyun.”

“okay,” he breathes, pulling you closer. “okay.”

against your lips, he smiles. 

2. “happy valentine’s day.”

music blasts in the background as you and youngtaek begin cleaning up your studio. even though you both are exhausted from hours of dancing, the music seems to work its way into your veins again as you pick up the last few things from the floor. twirling once or twice in time to the beat, you put them back in your bag before spinning, arms held out wide.

youngtaek catches you, pulling your hand as it flies out and dipping you down. his eyes crinkle as he smiles, face just inches away from yours. he braves the small chasm to kiss you briefly before holding you closer, losing himself in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. 

for a few blissful moments, you only stare, smiling into each other’s eyes. the pounding music fades, soon replaced with a slow, soft song. 

youngtaek breaks your silence. “hey, dance with me?”

you laugh. “we’ve been dancing for hours, youngtaek. you’re not tired already?”

he kisses you again. “never tired if i’m with you.”

with that, you twirl him around, giggling as he spins dramatically before wrapping his arms around your waist once more. you put your hands on his shoulders and sway slowly, gently, peacefully, as the music rolls around you in waves. 

youngtaek likes it like this, likes it peaceful and quiet and calm. for others, valentine’s day might be about big displays of love, over the top shows of romance, but even though those are nice every once in a while, it’s possible to show so much love in a soft look, a gentle touch, in the feeling of his head resting against your shoulder as you sway gently to the music. 

he doesn’t need roses, doesn’t need chocolates or jewelry to know that you love him and he loves you. he’ll treasure the handmade card you gave him this morning, just as you’ll listen to the song he composed you for weeks, months, and hopefully years. head tucked into your neck, he presses a soft kiss to the skin, smiling at the way you shiver slightly against him. 

“tired?” you murmur, running a hand through his hair. 

youngtaek’s eyes close in bliss. “not yet.” it’s not quite a lie, he still has strength in his legs, but he wants to stay in your embrace just a little longer. just a little.

“if you say so.” your fingers continue carding through his hair. “we can go whenever you want.”

“okay.” youngtaek’s smile widens. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too, youngtaek.” you pull away slightly, kiss his forehead. “happy valentine’s day.”

[blitzturtles]

Title: Answers

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: The Old Guard

Pairing(s): Immortal Husbands / JoeNicky

Summary: He had once hoped that death may fix the problem. That the right blow to the head might undo whatever’s gone wrong, but, as they’ve learned with all else, that which existed before immortality, remains.

Notes: This is for a k!nk meme fill, which just asked for Joe reading to dyslexic Nicky, while Nicky has his head on Joe's chest. Some Nile & Nicky bonding slipped in. (Link in the comments!)

Btw, I’m doing a writing / fic giveaway! Check out this post to see how to enter. Goes until 8.25.21!

Oh, also! Nile mentions dysgraphia, but dysgraphia has more to do with writing than reading. I left the details of her research afterwards a little ambiguous, so I just want to clarify that here to avoid misinformation.

-

There’s always been a hope in Nicky that reading would somehow become a viable option. It’s not that he’s entirely illiterate, but it’s a damn near thing with the length of time it takes him to work through a single sentence and the accompanying headache that often follows the disproportionate effort.

He knows that reading isn’t supposed to be difficult. He’s watched people skim pages of words in the time it takes him to get through a paragraph, and he knows that Joe inhales words the way he does air. If there’s a love that comes close to how Joe feels for Nicky, then it’s for his love of the written word, yet Nicky languishes with the evolution of language. His mother tongue no longer the preferred word of his region means that he can barely find texts that once were at least partially compatible with whatever’s gone wrong in his brain.

He had once hoped that death may fix the problem. That the right blow to the head might undo whatever’s gone wrong, but, as they’ve learned with all else, that which existed before immortality, remains.

There had been a period of shame, too. When he had been too afraid to express to Yusuf that his struggles with books had only worsened. That, despite his best efforts, he’s only seemed to lose more of the ability to grasp the lines and shapes on the pages until they’ve become all but meaningless. He can still remember how his love reacted. How quickly he had adjusted to the news, and how Yusuf was more than delighted to read to Nicky. To fill in that void that Nicky hadn’t realized was growing. And that’s how things remained.

Technology began to evolve at an absurd rate, and, with it, language. One did not advance without the other, which meant that Nicky had no chance of catching up the way he had once again hoped.

Yusuf had again insisted that he did not mind. That he enjoyed their moments together, with Nicky resting against his chest, equal parts listening to the words coming from Joe’s lips and the beat of Joe’s heart. Books are no longer the bane of his existence; he’s long given up on ever being able to read with any kind of efficiency, but these moments will never cease to be something that he cherishes.

It’s Nile that puts a name to his centuries long struggles. She puts the pieces together one day upon noticing Nicky squinting at a splay of papers on the dining room table.

“You doing okay?” She asks with a concerned frown.

Nicky smiles at her despite the growing pressure between his eyes. It wraps around his temples and threatens to put him out of commission for the day, but he’s nothing if not determined. “I am,” he motions toward the pages. “A bit frustrated with these is all.”

“Oh,” Nile leans over his shoulder with her hands braced on the back of Nicky’s chair. She glances over the pages with understanding developing in her features. It pangs jealousy in his heart, despite his reconciliation with reality. There are times he can’t help his own frustration. When he feels inept and lacking, both in intelligence and in something that has become fundamental.

“What part are you struggling with?” Nile’s tone is uncertain. She doesn’t understand.

Nicky gives a sigh as he thinks of how best to describe his predicament. “The words dance,” he says before he can overthink it too much. “My eyes cannot keep up.”

“Oh,” Nile’s face screws up into something complicated, but then she smiles, warm and soft. “You mean like- moving, right? Do the letters look backwards or upside down?”

Nicky frowns, but he looks back at the pages and squints at them again. “They look wrong,” he says in a non-answer. He supposes that she may be right, but, truthfully, the letters mean very little to him. None ever seem to keep their shape, and the ones that do often appear in places that he can only assume aren’t quite right. And the lines never hold their place. They move oddly. And constantly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you might be dyslexic? Or uh- maybe dysgraphic?” Nile asks with an uncertainty lingering. She shifts from one foot to the next, and it’s then that he realizes that she thinks that she’ll offend him. Ordinarily, he would reassure her, but he’s caught on the words, though he couldn’t repeat them for the life of him. They’re distant memories of syllables in his head now. A mess of sounds, but he tries to grasp onto them.

“Nicky?”

“Sorry,” Nicky scrubs a hand over his face and tries to clear his mind, “What were those words?”

“Dyslexic? And dysgraphic? They’re disorders. In the brain. With dyslexia, words and letters can get mixed up, or you can drop them all together, and dysgraphia is, I think,” she frowns as she seems to lose herself in thought, “It might have something more to do with writing, but I think that’s also the problem you’re having with the lines staying even. I need to look it again up to be sure.”

“Oh,” Nicky blinks at her, then at the pages. He’s not sure what to do with this new information. It feels like everything and nothing all at once. Answers for questions that he’s had for hundreds of years, yet- does it matter? Should it matter?

“Here,” Nile pulls her phone from her pocket and pulls up a chair beside him. “We’ll figure out the difference. And I bet they have a screening quiz online.”

The next several hours pass in a frenzy of information. Thankfully, Nile is more than happy to be the go-between for Nicky and the internet. She reads off the important parts of articles and makes sure to word them in ways that he can follow, given the sudden influx in new information. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating all at once, and he practically stumbles into his and Joe’s bedroom. His mind is elsewhere to the point that he doesn’t immediately notice his husband’s presence.

“Nicolò?”

The worried inflexion makes Nicky all too aware of the fact that Yusuf has already attempted to get his attention at least once before.

“Sorry, tesero,” Nicky says and looks to find Joe, relaxed and in bed with a book in hand. He takes a moment to change from his jeans to a pair of comfortable pajama bottoms before sliding into bed. Without thinking, he curls close to his husband, with his head resting on Joe’s chest and an arm slung over his waist. “I learned something today.”

“From Nile?”

Nicky hums with an amused smile on his face. Nile is often the one schooling them in various bits and pieces of information. It’s made them more aware of how much they’ve missed out on, despite their efforts. “Indeed,” he confirms after a beat of silence, “She thinks I might have something called ‘dyslexia’.”

“Ah,” Joe takes in the information, rolls it around in his mind, and gives a nod. “That- I suppose I’ll have to read into that a bit more.” His tone is a touch tight at the end, and Nicky glances up to see Joe’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“It really only became known in the- 1940’s, I believe,” though it had been discovered earlier. It had taken a study on children for the public to be made more aware of the disability (and how odd to think of himself as having such a thing. That all this time, he had not been too lazy or too slow. There had been a reason from the very beginning.)

“Ah, well, that would explain a lot,” Yusuf says, relaxing once more underneath Nicky. “We were a bit busy.”

Nicky snorts. “‘A bit’,” he echoes. That’s an understatement if ever he’s heard one.

There’s a brief lull in the conversation, where Nicky gets caught up in his own thoughts-- processing the immense amount of information he’s learned--, and Joe flips through the pages of his book until he comes to a stop and, with some hesitation, speaks up again,

“Would you like it if I read to you now?”

“Always, habibi.”

[writtenonreceipts]

I saw this prompt for feysand and i would love to see your take on it - I get stuck with a late class that doesn’t end until 9pm and I’m always anxious about walking across the campus to the dorms, so you offer to walk with me and one night, I find out that it’s in the exact opposite direction that you need to go in

I've really been enjoying your writing!!❤

AN: I took it and ran, and ran, and kept running.  Thank-you so, SO much for sending it my way!  This was a great prompt that had fun with.  I’m glad you’ve been liking my stuff, it means a lot! ~5.5kwords

TW: Brief talk about death, anxiety, depression, fear.

 Worth It

Seated at a canvas with paints or pencils in hand, Feyre was unstoppable.  She could create landscapes with ease or depict a simple still life and turn it into something far greater.  Art was where she lived.

Not in a basement classroom learning about Prythian history.  

There wasn’t anything wrong with history, especially when it was as rich and vibrant as Prythia.  But talking about wars, treaties, and assassinations could only be discussed for so long.

Of course, it didn’t help that Feyre was dyslexic, but she didn’t talk about that.

She glanced around the room, trying to see if anyone else was as bored as she was.  It was the first day of class and she was the only one not taking extensive notes.  Well, she and a guy at the front of the room.  All Feyre could see was the back of his head.  His hair was dark as midnight and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up as he sat at his desk.  He didn’t even have a textbook with him.

Feyre forced herself to pay attention as the Professor finally shut down the slide show presentation.

“Make sure you look of the syllabus,” Dr. Wesson addressed the class.  She was a small woman with rich brown hair and a plain green dress.  “It outlines the schedule of tests and essays.  None of the dates will be altered.  My TA will be at your disposal.” 

Dr. Wesson nodded to the guy with the black hair and gestured for him to stand up.

And just like that, the class was the most fascinating thing in the world. 

He was tall, taller than he’d originally appeared.  His warmly tanned skin made his violet blue eyes bright and eager.  A sly sort of smile traced his mouth as he observed the class.

“Call me Rhysand,” he said, “I’m working on my masters specifically in the historical aspect of how literature was shaped by wars in the land.  I’m always glad to help with your questions.  Just make sure you email me to set something up.”

The girls next to Feyre whispered to each other, exchanging significant looks.  Feyre exchanged a significant look with the amount of reading and writing that was required.

Hell.  It was going to be a long semester.

The class dismissed right at nine o’clock, much to Feyre’s relief.  While most of the students flocked to the front of the room to either gawk at the TA or further discuss issues with the Professor, Feyre left the class.  Already she could feel her dread pooling into anxiety.  Her heart rate quickened and the muscles in her left hand twitched.  

She just needed to get home and sit down with a canvas and paint.

As soon as she made it outside the Humanities Building however, the dread continued to tug at Feyre.  It was far too dark.  With far fewer lights than she’d expected for a college campus.  Or maybe it was because there was a thick layer of clouds sagging down and threatening rain.  

“Feyre!” 

Snapping to attention, Feyre clutched her bag to her chest and found the source of her name.

Her friend, and roommate, Alis waved at her from a path diverging deeper on to campus.  Her dark hair hung in waves down her back and the jacket she wore was flattering against her curves.

Feyre let out a long, releieved breath and plastered a smile on her face.  Quickly, she moved toward her friend.

“Hey,” Feyre greeted and accepted a hug from the smaller girl. “What are you doing here?”

“I know you had a late class,” Alis explained, “and I knew it was with Wesson.  I heard the woman is miserable.  So intense.  But--I mean--you’re going to do great.  Your always so creative with everything I’m sure she’ll love you.  Anyway, I was finishing up buying my books for the semester and thought I’d meet up with you.”

Feyre smiled as Alis spoke, grateful for the small distraction.  Even if it was slightly horrific in thinking about trying to get on a professor’s good-side.

“Thanks,” Feyre said, “I appreciate it.  It was a bit intimidating.”

“I think everyone just likes making freshman miserable,” Alis said.  Alis was technically a junior, but had changed her major four times and couldn’t decide on a minor.  She was not on track to graduate when she’d originally thought, but wasn’t at all concerned.  

Feyre wished she could be more like that than the raging mess she felt she was.

Behind them, leaving the Humanities Building, the TA appeared leading an entire gaggle of girls.

“Let’s go,” Feyre muttered. “I’m exhausted.”

#

By the third week of the semester Feyre came to better understand her relationship with exhaustion.  And it was not a good one.

She was fairly certain her body consisted of ninety percent caffeinated beverages and ten percent hot pockets.  She’d never been one for eating much.  Growing up had always been a struggle in keeping food in the fridge and a decent pair of shoes on her feet.  Feyre knew by now how her body functioned.

It wasn’t healthy, not in the slightest.  And there was a part of her that recognized that.  And another part that ignored it.

Two nights a week, Feyre found herself stuffed in the basement with little enjoyment.  Other than getting to stare and Rhysand when Dr. Wesson turned the class over to him for brief instruction.

And looking at him was enjoyment.  He was far different from any other guy Feyre had encountered.  His hair was kept neat and short sweeping easily back out of his face, a charming smile, and warm brown skin.  Not to mention the tattoos. 

Feyre had never really considered tattoos as being attractive.  Perhaps it was the artistic side of her that couldn’t get enough of them.  On him at least.  The way the black in swirled on his skin and swept up his arms.  It was a shame he never wore short sleeves or unbuttoned one extra cutton at his collar.

Hell.

Mentally shaking herself, Feyre forced herself to pay attention.

Rhysand was discussing scores from the test last week.  And, to put it mildly, was not impressed.  Oh, there was plenty of good to say.  Some of the students were engaged in the topics at hand.  Some of the students displayed an obvious grasp of complicated topics.  Others did not.

Feyre found herself sinking deeper into her seat by the end of class.

He hadn’t called her out by name, but truly--it felt like he had.

“That’s it for today, enjoy the weekend,” Rhysand called out at the tick of nine, “and remember essay proposals are due by the start of class on Tuesday.”

There was a quick rustle of the students getting up and gathering their things.  It was a glorious Thursday evening and Feyre had somehow managed to keep her Friday’s clear of classes.  At least something had gone right.

“Feyre?” She whipped around to meet those stark violet eyes. Hell. “I needed to talk to you about the questions you had on the proposal assignment.”

Feyre bristled.  And not just because some of the girls shot her angry looks for being singled out by the hot TA.  She hadn’t asked any questions.  She was just trying to skate by on this class and be done with her prerequisites so she could get into her Art Major.

She set her bag on the floor once more and went to the front of the class.  Already most of the students were leaving, far too eager to be done with school for the night.

As Rhysand answered a few last questions and dismissed the rest of the students, Feyre approached.  Already she knew what she was going to say.

“I don’t have any questions.” The words fell from her mouth with ease. “I already know what I’m writing on.”

Lie.  But a well-practiced one.

Rhysand’s mouth curled in a smile.  He hefted a small stack of papers in one hand and leafed through them.  Feyre froze realizing that they were the tests from last week.  He pulled one of the stapled bunches out before setting the rest down.

“Honestly, I was surprised while grading this,” he said, “I mean, you’re obviously smart.  I saw that you were awarded the Starfell Scholarship, not an easy accomplishment.  Not to mention your always engaged and taking notes.”

Feyre wished her skin wasn’t as pale as it was.  Her skin flushed under his scrutiny, but she tilted her chin up and met his gaze.

“And?” she asked. “I take my education seriously.”

Somewhat.  When she actually liked the work.

Rhysand handed her the test.  And she saw the grade.

D.

D.

D.

Hell.

Her stomach churned.  Roiled actually.  Maybe she was going to be sick.  That was just what she needed.

“So?” she asked instead. “It was the first test of the semester.”

“And yours in the only outlier,” he replied.

His eyes never left hers and Feyre felt more and more inclined to throw something at him.  Who was he to talk to her about her grade?  He was just the damned TA.

“Dr. Wesson doesn’t like picking up the slack of grading or talking to students about it all that much,” he continued, literally reading her mind. “I’m just concerned about you falling behind.”

Feyre stiffened and pursed her lips.

“I grew up learning Prythian history, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said stiffly.  

Another lie.  She knew enough that basic education taught and what she’d heard and listened to.  But reading about it?  Her mind couldn’t grasp it.  It had been hard enough getting decent SAT scores to get accepted in the University let alone writing that damned Starfell essay.

“Of course,” Rhysand said slowly.

And Feyre had the sense that he was assessing her.  Analytically, carefully.  In the was that one would size up an opponent or scrutinize a strange recipe.  He was trying to understand her.

Feyre handed him back the test.

“Thanks for the concern,” she said, “but I’ll be fine.”

Perhaps he was just being nice.  Perhaps he was merely trying to fulfill his duties as TA.  But she had seen the way he acted in the class.  At times rebuffing boys and girls alike.  Not to mention seeing him around campus tossing a football around with two other boys.  She’d also seen him get kicked out of the library for a parkour prank challenge.  

In all honesty, Feyre had no idea what to make of him.  And she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

He didn’t seem to believe her.  Not with the crease forming between his brow nor the frown turning down one side of his mouth.  

Well, that was his problem.

“Have a good night,” Feyre said.  She spun on her heel before he could say anything and grabbed her bag and was out the door.  

Once she was outside, she could breathe again.  Strange.  She often found the darkness, the night, to be so suffocating.  It wasn’t long before Feyre realized something was off about the night.  And then she realized.  Alis was nowhere in sight.

Feyre dug her phone out of her pocket and found a missed text.

Sorry chica, caught up at study group.  Probs gonna spend the night at Nuala’s too.  See you tomorrow!

Of all the nights Alis could get serious with her girlfriend.

Feyre swallowed stiffly and stared out over the pavilion that stretched between the humanities building and out to the mathematics building.  A few pathways branched off to different parts of campus and then there was the main one that would take her to the dorms.  And of course, most of the streetlamps were barely flickering to life.

She’d never liked the dark.  Never liked what could hide in the shadows.  Nor what could sneak in silence.  Perhaps it was childish to still hold onto that fear.  She was almost nineteen years old after all. Nearly fifteen years later and here she was.

Feyre’s hands shook as she clutched her phone.  She could call Elain.  Nesta.  Even just to talk to as she walked.  Though Elain lost her phone even when it was in her hand.  And Nesta was at work.  

But it was fine.  Feyre knew it was fine.  Because all she needed to do was walk.  And shed been walking for long enough that putting one step in front of the other was natural.  Easy.  Simple.  Yet here she was.  Standing.

When Rhysand spoke, she didn’t even start.  

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

Myself.  “No.”

Silence.

“It’s getting late.”

“I know.”

Silence.

How strange it was, to hear only the hum of crickets and breath of night.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rhysand asked.  

Feyre glanced at him.  Even in the shadows she could see him clearly.  It was like he was made of night, of dark, of the mysteries that she could never lay her hand on.  She shook her head.  Focus, Feyre.

“Of course I am,” she insisted, a little too sharply. “Maybe I like having time to think.”

“At nine-thirty at night.  Outside the least exciting building on campus.”

“Oh, I don’t know.  I heard that last year a group of boys nearly got suspended for trying to host a snowball fight, indoors.” Feyre couldn’t help but grin when she saw how Rhysand flushed.

“Technically, I’m not the one who brought the snowballs inside the building,” he said defensively.

“Oh, no, you’re just the one who built an entire fort in front of the main entrance to the building,” Feyre said.

It had actually been pretty hilarious when she’d heard about it from Alis. It almost made her wish that she'd been around last year instead of taking a year off.

“Technically,” he said again, the word making Feyre’s brow arch, “it was my brother who instigated the fight. He couldn’t let his reign be challenged.”

Feyre snorted a laugh and looked out over the quiet campus. It almost didn't look so dark and cold as she'd thought it had.  But still, she felt her heart continue to hammer out unevenly in her chest.  She couldn't walk home alone. Even the thought of taking one step forward had her clench and unclench a fist over the strap of her bag.

Rhysand continued saying something, but Feyre was only half listening.  She was mostly focused on the thought of walking home.  She could cut through the Science building.  If it was still open.  Or she could full out sprint.

“Are you alright?” Rhysand asked.

Flushing, Feyre pushed her hair out of her eyes and nodded. “Fine, yeah.” She knew she had to ask him.  Knew that it was her only option despite how embarrassed she might feel. “Could you--this is stupid, so you can say no--could you walk with me to the dorms?”

Rhysand was quiet for a moment.  And in that moment Feyre was certain he was going to sneer at her.  Laugh.  Tell her to get over herself.  Just like the others before him.

"Where do you live?" Rhys and asked suddenly, cutting Feyre off before she had the ch

“The dorms on the west side,” she said.

“Alliance Dorms?” Rhysaid confirmed.  When Feyre nodded, he flashed her a small smile. “Absolutely.”

Relief pounded through Feyre.

“If you tell me what the deal was with that test.”

“You’re an ass.”  The words were out before Feyre could stop them.  Not the best thing to say to the TA of a class she was likely going to flunk.

Scowling, more to herself than him, Feyre started walking towards the dorms.  She was a strong confidant woman.  She did not need him to walk her home.

But Rhysand with those damned long legs kept stride with her easily.  And he was laughing.  Feyre was half tempted to knock an elbow in his side for laughing at her, but his next words caught her off guard.

“I like you Feyre,” he said, “you are rather interesting.”

She glanced up at him.  Was he serious?  She’d insulted him.  She’d barely exchanged ten words with him at this point.  And was scared of walking home alone.  Granted it was a valid fear for a young woman on a college campus these days.

“Insane is the better word for it,” she replied, mostly under her breath.  That’s what everyone back home said at least.  In the small town where nothing was supposed to go wrong.  But everything did.

“Interesting, curious, vibrant,” Rhysand listed off. “Far better words I think.”

Feyre had never been good with words.  Like now.  She couldn’t find the energy to respond to him.  There was a spark in his eye that almost challenged her, begged her to continue the banter, the little game.  

She remained silent.

She’d heard it was a far better mask for her to wear anyways.

#

The first paper she turned in for the History class was returned with far too many red marks.  Far too many question marks.  Far too many.  So Feyre merely folded the thing in half and stuffed it in her bag.

She could burn it later.

Dr. Wesson ended the lecture right at nine and dismissed the class.  Feyre had almost disillusioned herself into thinking she could avoid a conversation with the Professor.  With Rhysand.  But just as she was trying to maneuver around the giggling pack of girls that sat next to her, Dr. Wesson’s voice called out for her.

“Oh Miss Archeron, a word please?”

Feyre froze.  She could feign a phone call.  But then next class session the same thing would happen.  So, Feyre braced herself for what was to come and went to the front of the class.

As usual, Rhysand looked perfectly unruffled.  Despite the fact that Fall was quickly slipping into the winter months, he still wore a simple black button up tucked into slacks, the sleeves rolled up.

“Feyre,” Dr. Wesson said as she approached, she reached out a hand and gave Feyre a firm pat on the arm. “I know Rhysand spoke to you last week about your test.  I wanted to follow up, especially in seeing how this essay went.  Now, there is still plenty of time left in the semester, but I worry you aren’t grasping the things you should be.”

Blood pounded in Feyre’s ears.  She could hear her heart beat throb, feel it in her veins.  Her entire body flushed with embarrassment, stress, horror.  Everything bubbled to the surface even though she’d tried so hard to tamp it down.

She tried to open her mouth but found her teeth were grinding together so bad that her jaw hurt.

“I think,” Dr. Wesson continued, “that you would benefit from spending a bit of extra time with Rhysand.  Just to make sure you’re where you need to be in the class.”

Feyre found herself nodding and agreeing.  Her voice was relaxed, calm even.  But far too close to breaking.

After thanking the Doctor for her uncharacteristic kindness, Feyre stared and the poorly erased whiteboard over Rhysand’s shoulder for a long moment.  With a slow exhale she finally met his gaze.

Rhysand met her eyes with such intensity that Feyre nearly lost her breath all over again.  She shook it off and rolled her shoulders.

“Shall we get started tonight?” she asked. “Or I’m sure you have plans.”

“Nah, only kicking Cassian’s ass at Mario Cart,” Rhysand replied.  He flashed her an innocent sort of smile.  Feyre wasn’t sure if it was one out of kindness or mockery of some sort.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and stuck it out for him. “Just give me your number and I’ll let you know when’s a good time to study.”

Rhysand hesitated on a moment before accepting the phone and adding his details.  As soon as she got her phone back, Feyre changed his name from Rhys to Prick.  It seemed to fit better.

“It’s not a big deal you know,” Rhysand said.  

He followed Feyre out of the classroom.  His steps were confident against the carpet that had to be at least thirty years old.  Truly Rhysand was an enigma with his ease, grace, and elegance when pitted against the drab interior of the Humanities Building.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Feyre said.

Once outside, the cold night air nipped at her skin and even through her jacket she could feel goosebumps rise.  Just like the night last week, Feyre waited just outside the building doors.  She stared into the night; across the courtyard she could see a few pale lights from the Math Building.  None of the lampposts had been fixed which left most of the walkways in shadows.

Nothing about the night was out of place.  It was calm, still, and everything lingered on Feyre’s mind.  And just like last week, Rhysand waited beside her.

Overhead, Feyre could just make out the stars.  Only a thin veil of clouds hung over the sky allowing a small bit of freedom to pierce her heart.  But not enough.

“Could you walk with me again?” she asked quietly, unable to look at Rhysand.

“Only if you talk to me this time,” he said.  That cheeky grin returning.  And despite how much she hated it, it put Feyre at ease.

“Fine.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets and began walking. “What made you pick history?  There had to be something else.  You don’t seem the type for old stuffy books or maps.”

“And who do you peg me for, Feyre?” His voice was practically a purr.

“High and mighty sitting behind a desk,” she replied drily. “Running some company somewhere.  You certainly have the personality for it.”

He laughed unamused. “If my father had any say in the matter.  A degree in history only puts off the inevitable.”

“That’s a rather bleak look on things,” Feyre said.  It sounded like something she would say.

“Only if I didn’t enjoy what I was learning so much,” he said.  In the flickering light of the lamps, they walked beneath, Rhysand’s expression brightened. “Between the wars and legends surrounding what shaped the country...it’s always been curious to see what we became.  What we can become.”

His response seemed so honest, so genuine, that Feyre nearly stumbled.  She barely knew him, had barely spent any time with him, yet she was beginning to feel that she knew him.

“So you devote all your time and attention to it?” Feyre asked.

They passed by the last of the campus buildings.  A brisk wind scattered fallen leaves on the sidewalks and crunched under their steps as they walked.

“Don’t you have something you love?  Something that you feel has changed you and you’d never want to give it up?”

A box of paints.  Brushes that she’d had since she was ten.  A canvas only half finished.  She’d thought she could complete the image but it had been almost a year since she’d even looked at it.  But art…art had changed her.  Art had loved her just as she loved it.

“I guess you’re right,” she admitted.  Tilting her chin up, Feyre caught sight of a small patch of stars amid the inky black sky.  Dim but shining still. “There’s always something.”

If he heard the sadness in her voice, he said nothing.  Which was partially surprising, but Feyre would roll with it.

“The tutoring,” Rhysand began.

“No,” Feyre cut him off.  “Not right now.”

“So you’re just going to ignore your problems?”

“It’s not a problem.”

“Seems to be.”

Feyre stopped causing him him to move a few steps ahead of her.  When he turned back towards her, he waited.  

“I’ll admit to needing a little extra help to help my tests and essays, but I don’t see what else you’d need to know.”

“It’s alright to talk,” Rhysand paused, something else on the cusp of behind heard.  But he restrained, his voice trailing off softly.

Feyre ignored the comment.  Talking had never been her strong suit.  She was more of action.  Less idle, more work.  Ever since she was a child it had been that way.  She knew why, of course.  It was obvious when she thought about it.  So she never thought about it.

“What are you planning on studying?” Rhysand asked when she made no effort to continue on the topic of her test.

“Art,” she replied immediately. “I’m an artist.  But my sister wanted me to get more of an education that could support me.  So I’m just working on my prerequisites.”

“Art,” he repeated.  There was a lilt to his voice as if he really were actually interested in what she was saying. “Sketching?  Sculpture?”

“Paint and canvas,” Feyre said.  “Since I was little.  After my mom died, my sister bought me my first set of brushes and paint and everything I could need.  She was only nine.  I think she stole my dad’s credit card to do it.”

The reality of that had Feyre laughing softly, but Rhysand gave her look that was a mix of horror and confusion.

“It’s fine,” Feyre said quickly, “I’m fine.”

It was a lie of course.  If she really were fine, she wouldn't have asked him to walk her home.  She would better know how to control her fears, her anxiety.  She would be happy.

“My mother died ten years ago,” Rhysand told her, his voice quiet and contemplative. “She’d been sick for a while and we knew it was coming.  But for a ten-year-old boy, it was hard to understand.  My father certainly didn’t.  Still doesn’t.”

They reached Feyre’s dorms then, floodlights illuminated the front street and made it seem as though it were day.  Feyre turned toward him and found herself smiling, just barely.

“Thank-you,” she said sincerely.  “And I’m sorry you have to be a part of the dead mother’s club.”

“You too,” he said.

Feyre wondered if there was something else she should say.  Wondered if he would even want to hear it.  It was strange, that little flame of comradery that she felt towards him.  But it was gone in an instant as Alis came running out from the building.

“Feyre!  Get inside, it’s movie night!”

Shaking her head, Feyre offered Rhysand a small wave and headed into the dorms.

#

With three weeks until the next paper was due in that miserable class, Feyre spent her free time studying with Rhysand.  It wasn’t as miserable as she’d been expecting it to be.  Not when she realized he was far more laid back than she’d assumed.  And then she’d met his best friends who were essentially like his brothers.

It was far easier to study in the relaxed environment that Rhysand created.  And far easier to be herself around him.  Of course, it had taken Feyre a while to decide that maybe they could be friends.  

“Summarize what the chapter from last night’s reading discussed,” Rhysand said one night as they were studying.  It was well after ten o’clock but they’d been given permission to stay in the building.  

Feyre pursed her lips.  She’d done the reading of course.  As well as she’d been able.  Most of had been hard to understand.  No matter how she tried to focus or train her mind, her dyslexia always got in the way.

“Right,” Feyre said slowly. “It was about the last king of Hybern.”

“And?” Rhysand prodded.

“And he was a jerk,” Feyre added.  

Rhysand’s fixed her with a look.  Long and hard but still underlined with compassion.

“Feyre,” he said, just a bit more seriousness to his voice.

She sighed heavily and tugged at the sleeve of her shirt. “I read it.  I just didn’t understand it.”

Silence.

Feyre shot him a scowl but didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m dyslexic.  And History tends to be a bit harder for me to understand.”

Rhsand blinked.  Once.  But nothing else.  No laugh or scoff of scorn.  Instead, he smiled and pushed to text book toward her.

“Then read.”

“Read?”

“Aloud, preferably,” Rhysand said.  He shrugged. “You want to be ready for the paper and subsequent test?”

“Prick,” she muttered.  But she dragged the book towards her and began.

It became habit.  A rhythm they fell into for the next several weeks.  Rhysand helped Feyre study and prepare for the paper, the test.  He walked her home, remaining the perfect gentleman.  And Feyre, Feyre relished the time.

It was because he was genuine.  Honest.  There was something about him, deeper than the intensity he displayed on the outside.  And for the first time in a while, Feyre found herself laughing with him.  For the first time in a while, she was living for more than just expectations.

He was actually turning into her friend and it was strange thought indeed.

“Alright students,” Dr. Wesson announced towards the end of class on the last day before Thanksgiving break. “I have your midterm tests and papers graded.  So now you can either relax or stress even further.  Depending on the grade.”

A weak laugh bubbled around the room.  Feyre gripped the underside of her chair tightly.  She wasn’t ready for this.  Not in the slightest.

Dr. Wesson slowly made her way around the room delivering both test and paper.  Feyre, by some stroke of cosmic affair, didn’t get her paper until last and the entire room was empty aside from Dr. Wesson and Rhysand.  Why was it they always ended up here?

“Well done, Miss Archeron,” Dr. Wesson said.  She handed two packets of paper to Feyre and smiled. “I love to see improvement.”

Gaping, Feyre looked between the two grades.  Heart hammering, she looked over the scores, brilliant red B’s shined up at her.

“I don’t usually offer extra credit,” the doctor went on, “but an exhibit is coming to the University about the Prythian Wall and it’s destruction.  If you can come up with a project to demonstrate what it entails, I might be convinced to help you keep your grade up.”

Feyre could only nod as the professor bid them goodnight and left.

“Well done.”

Feyre looked up to see Rhysand beaming at her and she couldn’t help but grin.  She leapt out of her seat and flung her arms around him in an embrace.

“Thank-you!” she whispered.  It took her perhaps a moment too long to realize that a hung might not have been the best of plans.  She hurriedly pulled back. “Sorry.  That was uncalled far.  I’m just really excited.”

“As you should be,” Rhysand said.  His smile hadn’t dimmed but there was something in his eyes that Feyre couldn’t quite read. “It wasn’t an easy test.”

“And now we have a full week off for Thanksgiving,” she said.  It was the best news she could have been given after getting her grades back.

“If you want,” Rhysand said, “my brother’s and cousin and I are having a game night, with pizza.  If you want to come.”

A spark of excitement ignited in Feyre’s chest.  She didn’t know when she’d developed a stupid little crush on Rhysand, but it was slowly starting to simmer out of control.  She should have said no.  Or come up with an excuse of some kind.  Insead she found herself nodding.

“I’d like that,” she said.

They collected their things and left the building.  Feyre took a few steps down the path they usually took to get to her dorm when she paused.  She turned back to Rhysand and frowned.

“Where do you live?”

Rhysand looked a little sheepish.  “Oh, I live over in the Court Apartments.”

Feyre blinked. “That’s in the complete opposite direction from my place.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been walking me home for practically a month.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Feyre asked, practically waving her hands in the air.  “It’s basically a two-mile walk from my place.”

Rhysand shrugged. “You asked for help and I wanted to give it.”

Feyre stared at him.  Her coat and scarf bunched around her neck, even though the night was perfectly clear.  It was clear enough that she could see the billions of stars overhead.  She could see them sparking in the black night.  And for one she wasn’t overcome with her usual anxiety.  Her usual fears.  Instead, all she would do was stare at Rhysand.

“Why would you do that?” she insisted.

Rhysand opened and closed his mouth a few times. “Because you were worth it.”

His simple words hung between them and Feyre had a hard time knowing what to say or how to react.  So she merely smiled and hooked her arm with his.

“Tell me about game night.  Am I going to wind up on some snipe hunt?”

“Oh no, you and I are going to gang up against Cassian and beat him at Mario Cart.”

Feyre laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

And she realized that she wouldn’t mind if that’s how the rest of her nights played out.  Late hours of laughs and friends, being around people--one person--who made her feel better than she had in a long time.  

No, she wouldn’t mind it at all.

#

thanks so much for reading!

tags:

please reach out if i missed you and let me know if I put you on the wrong tag list/want to be removed. ��it’s generally going to be easier for me to just have basic acotar/tog lists and not go into too much worry about that, so just and fyi...anywho

tags:  @tottenhamboys20  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx  @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @julemmaes @lysandra-ghost-leopard @harrymoncheri @firestarsandseneschals @emikadreams​  @rapunzel1523 @booksofthemoon  @highladysith​ @fangirlprincess09

[wizkiddx]

Admit you miss me

hello hello!! I’m trying to get better at this whole thing and also how to (ahem) use tumblr cos apparently have the abilities similar of an elderly woman but we move. hope people are okay, ik Christmas isn’t the easiest for everyone so sending love <3

I would also really really appreciate some improvements to my writing, I got loads sitting in my drafts but my dyslexic ass is struggling to sorta combine it all - so any help would be incred x x

Small and fluffy for you ;))) , Tomhollandxreader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n/n - iMessage

[you]

‘Sorry I missed you call was in a meeting, you okay?’

[y/n/n]

‘Yeh I’m fine but can you call me please?’

Tom quirked an eyebrow at the almost instantaneous response of his girlfriend it was very out of character and made him worry a little.

1. Because she was the WORST replier he’d ever met, in the early stages he had really thought she hadn’t been interested at all given the typical 12 hr response time, so her answering before he’d had time to put the phone down was weird.

2. Because they’d already phoned today, always at 6 o’clock UK time and 1 o’clock (lunchtime) in Atlanta. The time difference was 5 hrs, which comparatively wasn’t that bad, but now for Tom is was half 8 in the evening, meaning for her it was more closer to 1 in the morning. Y/n never stayed up late either she was one of those earlier riser types, which always slightly infuriated Tom who occasionally just wanted days of lying in bed, legs tangled with his beautiful girl. But no, that was never allowed - instead sunrise walks or drives to the countryside for some fresh air.

So she had him downright worried, making him instantly leave the living room and Harry on his own, taking the stairs two at a time before reaching his bedroom and pressing the FaceTime button next to her contact as he flung himself on the plush duvet.

“Hey darling you okay?” He had to smile as her face appeared on the screen, the soft light of her bedside lamp casting soft glows across the left side of her face. Clearly in bed, Y/n was wearing a rather familiar burgundy hoodie and her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, loose rogue strands framing her face beautifully.

“Mhmm I just need to speak to you.” She replied in a slightly muttered manner, running the nail of the third finger across her lip - something Tom did when she was thinking a lot- while she stared intently at the screen.

“You sound all serious love, what’s up?” He tried to stay calm, but being separated from her for so long meant it was only natural, he was worried this was something about them

“Well I just couldn’t sleep and was scrolling on instagram, saw the video you did for the brothers trust.”

“Is that it?” `he was a little perplexed, nothing in that video should’ve alarmed him.

“No because you looked all soft and tired and all I wanted to do was wrap you in a blanket and climb into bed with you” She rushed through the sentence, more than a little embarrassed.

“Thats what this is about?”

“No because you said you weren’t working too hard and that was a lie! Whats a relationship without trust Tom!”

He had to laugh at that too. His girlfriend was also possibly the most confusing person he had ever met. She was proud, headstrong, motivated and to almost everyone appeared to have a heart of stone. Tom knew better though. It made him smirk.

“Uh-uh don’t try and turn this on me, just tell me you miss me.”

“No I am strictly just worried about you health Tom! You haven’t stopped since you went to Berlin and I’m worried about you!”

“Or you couldn’t sleep because, as you have admitted to me before, you sleep better when I’m with you and that’s why you texted me as if something awful had happened!” The boy was good. He countered Y/n’s arguments perfectly with the truth that she wouldn’t admit.

“No..” She murmured while momentarily looking away, while she paused and laughed to herself about how well he knew her “and anyway you do look tired.”

“I sleep better when you’re here too” Tom spoke so softly, which made Y/n blush. And didn’t he know it.

“You are coming back at the same time in December right?”

“Yep and you better be ready to be stuck by my side for the rest of the year.”

“If I’m not busy with all my other boyfriends.”Y/n grinned, her tongue ever so slightly running across the back of her teeth - it was her mischievous look. Tom just snorted, which didn’t seem to be the reaction she had wanted, going by the immediate scowl.

“Oh really now?”

“Oh yeh since we went instagram official you are just one of my many options Tommy.”

“Better get my act together then!” Y/n smiled but let the conversation drop, as she just looked at the slightly fuzzy image on the screen. His face just made her heart ache because she really did miss him. Especially since the UK went into lockdown 2.0 a week ago because of the situation. It meant Y/n, a young working professional, was isolated into her own flat all bay herself. Last lockdown, she’d moved in with all the boys and Tom at their big all-expenses-paid house. But now Harrison had moved out, and since Tom and Harry were away it just made sense for her to stay at her place - she was paying rent for it anyway. But it was lonely as hell, even if she could ‘bubble’ with Harrison he was often at work because this time round he’d been allowed to continue unlike y/n who was working from home.

The reason she had called though, was because she’d just had to cancel her flight out to visit Tom. It had already been 2 months since she’d seen him, so Tom had offered to book her a flight to come see him for a week or so before shit hit the fan again. It scared her as well, feeling like this, Y/n wasn’t one to ‘fall in love’- not a cushy romantic at all. But now, she almost felt slightly dependent on Tom, he was a primary source of happiness - and right now was also on the opposite side of the world.

“,,,I’m sorry I can’t come next week. Second lockdown is shit by the way, I’m all alone and-“

“In the nicest way, shut up. It’s not your fault… and I’m sorry your finding it hard.” She hummed at that, as she wiggled down in the bed, getting a little more comfortable. “It’s late though love, why don’t you try get some sleep?”

“I like talking to you though.” She pouted in such a child like manner, making Tom laugh softly as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“I do too but we can do that tomorrow. Call me whenever yeh?”

“But Tom!” She quickly sneaked in, worried he was about to hang up on her… which of course he was not. “Will you stay on the phone for a bit? Just till I’m a bit um asleep?”

And that’s what they did, Tom whispering little stories about nothing until he was very sure she was deeply asleep - her chest rising and falling slowly and rhythmically in his jumper. Yes, they were far away geographically and yes, she clearly was having a hard time. But they’d get through it together.

Even if together meant through the ingenious invention of FaceTime.

[icouldntfindquiet]

Van’s personality based on observation only

Feel free to agree, disagree, or add to this post. I want to know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don’t know him personally so take this with a grain of salt. I’m just an obsessed observant fan. 😆

Putting my rambling below the cut because it’s long!

Van is not shy. He’s extroverted and enjoys entertaining people. He’s not afraid to approach strangers and make them feel like they’ve been best mates all their life. Though he is extroverted, I do think he’s introverted as well. I believe entertaining people exhausts him so he needs time to himself to recover. When not on tour or making music, he likes to keep to himself and do his own thing. He’s very passionate about music so he gets lost in that head of his.

I still stand by the fact he has ADHD or ADD. I’m no doctor so I’m not diagnosing him but he does show traits that make me think that. First off, he can’t keep still. He’s always fidgeting...his hands have to be doing something. He also mentioned in an interview that he’s dyslexic and that he’s only read one book in his entire life. On that note, I think he’s exaggerating but maybe the Mike Skinner book is the only “real” book he’s ever read. Also, he says what’s on his mind without realizing that that’s not okay to say (think the tweet to the girl he would’ve fucked).

Van gives me chaotic vibes. He seems like the person to start many projects but not finish them, although he has good intentions! He can’t maintain focus. But once he does find something he’s passionate about—you better watch out! He’s very driven! For example: music. He’s very passionate about music and that’s all he thinks about whether he knows it or not. Going off of passion, I feel like he gets obsessed with things easily and he’ll chase it. For example, if there’s a girl he fancies, he will fucking chase that poor girl until he gets what he wants or is turned down. Like you will definitely know if Van fancies you, haha. But the thing is I feel like he doesn’t know he’s obsessed until he goes too far. I’m sure that’s gotten him in trouble in the past.

Van is very confident. He doesn’t mind being the center of attention but I also think he’s insecure. He says he’s “terrible in bed” and that he’s “not good looking enough” for pictures. I think there have been people in his past that used him or hurt him. This man is like a dog. He’s very loyal to his friends. He will bend over backwards for them but that has hurt him! People have taken advantage of him and I feel like he keeps coming back to these people (because he’s forgiving) but he’s getting better at cutting them off.

Van isn’t an emotional person on the outside (I’ve yet to see him cry or lose his shit) but he’s sensitive on the inside. I think it’s hard for him to express his true emotions unless he trusts you but he will always turn to songwriting which is his diary/therapy. I personally don’t think he has many friends. Only a few he can really trust.

Van loves a challenge. He enjoys pushing people’s buttons to get a reaction out of them, whether it’s to annoy or embarrass them. If you tell him no or to not do something, he will do it (if it’s safe) just to annoy you and he’ll enjoy ruffling your feathers! He’s very stubborn and stuck in his ways. He will argue with you and put up a good fight. Again...he doesn’t know if he’s going too far until he fucks up.

He’s a naturally affectionate person. He loves being close to someone. He’s big on touch! You can see how cuddly he gets with his bandmates. He craves companionship and attention, but mostly he needs someone who understands him because only a select few people in his life have the patience to really get to know him for who he is.

He’s a very honest person. If you need help, he will do what it takes to help you. He’s also blunt and truthful as well. “Say what you mean and mean what you say.” Sometimes he doesn’t know being straightforward can hurt people’s feelings which causes him to take a step back. But he’ll definitely tell you the truth if you’ve got a terrible singing voice! He seems like a give and take kind of person. He’ll listen and give advice but he also expects that in return.

Van is also a humorous person...it’s that entertainer in him wanting to make people laugh. But it’s also a tactic he uses to avoid questions he doesn’t want to answer. I’ve seen SO many interviews where he jokes around and doesn’t answer the damn question! Going off that, he likes to exaggerate the truth and he’s such a liar! Not the bad kind of liar but the type to avoid answering the question or he’s just messing with you. I’ve heard so many reiterations of how the band met that I don’t believe everything that comes out of his mouth anymore.

And here’s the controversial part...I think since it’s hard for Van to maintain focus that it’s hard for him to settle down with one person. I’m not suggesting anything but he seems like the type to chase something when interested, but once he’s got it, he gets bored if ya know what I mean? Unless he’s found someone that keeps him on his toes all the time! He needs to constantly be stimulated. I like to joke he needs to find a female version of Bondy or marry Bondy—either way!

Overall, he’s a difficult person to deal with and you need to be very patient and understanding with him. But once you get past that, you’ll find a person with so much love to give!

Lmao, did you make it to the end? Now tell me what you think! And please have mercy on me! Don’t believe everything I wrote. I’m sure I got some things wrong.

[elianamarie-blog]

hi can I get a matchup for That 70's Show?

I'm a bisexual 5,7 woman with dark brown curly hair brown eyes and feckles on my cheeks with a hourglass figure.

I'm a ENFP, Griffendor and give off a yellow vibe 💛 I'm a bit ditzy in certain aspects but I'm funny, intuitive and very creative, I sew clothes, draw and paint. I'm Irish and dyslexic. I am a very good listener and give great advice :)

I love fantasy, conspiracy theories and creating characters with complex backgrounds B)

Thank you so much! 🥰💛💛

Hi! Of course you can! :)

I spent a few days thinking about yours because I wanted to make sure I can do the best for you. By the way, you sound really pretty <3 and a badass!

I hope you like your matchup! I'd love to hear back from you.

Steven Hyde x Reader

-Y/n L/n an incredibly popular girl in the small town of Point Place.

-It wasn't just because of her beauty and talents, but because of smart, kind, and full of sunshine she was.

-It wasn't a secret that most of the boys her age wanted her.

-She even outshined the infamous Jackie Burkhart (which she hated.)

-So, when she became a part of the group, she found herself constantly with them, pretty much living in the Forman's basement.

-She grew to like Fez constantly touching and playing with her dark curls. She even gotten used to him smelling it and then always complimenting how good is smelt. (Like coconuts and vanilla)

-There was one particular curly haired, aviator wearing boy who had caught her eye; the only one who wasn't constantly fawning over her.

-Kelso was constantly hitting on her, Eric would make subtly hints on how hot she was, and Fez made no effort to hide his attraction towards her.

-While she found his advances towards her rather cute--and sometimes creepy--she couldn't help but wish that it was Hyde who was hitting on her.

-She saw him hit on other girls in the Hub and at work where they worked together in the record store, but she couldn't help but feel a little pang of jealousy.

-But nonetheless, she kept her distance, respecting that he may not feel the same as she did.

-But, oh, how she was wrong.

-Steven Hyde pulled his infamous move and kept her at arms length so that he couldn't get attached.

-If there is anything he was good at it was hiding his feelings for anybody.

-His aviators helped conceal his feelings--and his red, glazed eyes when he was high.

-She was super cute, especially during casual nights when she would crack jokes and giggle at the stupid stuff Kelso says, or the pranks Hyde pulled on the boys.

-He knew he couldn't be with her; she was full of sunshine and radiance, her inner beauty making her even more beautiful.

-He knew everything about her; her likes and dislikes, especially her love of conspiracy theories (they have talked for hours just talking about it and that's when he started to develop his feelings for her) her love for writing, and even found that she had dyslexia.

-When she came out to him about her bisexuality, he found out that he was the only person who knew because she trusted him enough to not mention anything.

-He was floored that someone who trusted him this much to keep.

- "I have to ask," he said. "Which chick do you find the hottest?"

- "Oh my God, Hyde," she laughed but thought about it for a minute. "If I'm being honest, Jackie. I mean, Donna is gorgeous too and all, but Jackie is a petite, cute little thing and when she isn't being, well, a total bitch, I want to just cuddle with her and squeeze her so tight."

-Steven grinned at her. "Hot."

-Y/n laughing before shoving him off the couch. "You're a pig."

-But she was also very funny and very wise. She was always the first person to help when her friends needed her, the ear to listen to about all their problems, the hands that would help pick up others, the lips that would turn up into a bright smile, making anyone around her smile with her.

-And not to mention that bangin' bod that she had goin' on that was almost damn near impossible for him to look away from.

-For Christmas, she painted him a Led Zepplin painting that was full of colors and shading; a near replication of the actual band themselves, but with a beautiful twist to it...the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given him. He proudly hung it in his room that day.

-But despite how good she was to him, he knew he could never return those feelings.

-He was too dark, too brooding, too independent, too negative, too aggressive and...too much.

-His energy could never match hers.

-He'd never be good enough for her.

-It wasn't until long the group caught on about their feelings for each other.

-They got tired of the longing stares, the dance arounds, and the sad puppy dog faces that they always wore when the other wasn't nearby.

-So they conjured up a plan.

-The perfect time came when Y/n was over in the Forman's basement, watching Three's Company and Hyde had just walked in through the door.

-Fez, Donna, Jackie, Kelso, and Eric all looked at each other before they all stood from their seats.

- "We'll be right back," Eric announced.

- "Alright, where you guys going?" Y/n asked.

- "Uh, nowhere," Fez responded smoothly.

-Hyde eyed them suspicious

-They split off into two groups; Jackie and Donna took the stairs door, locking it.

-Kelso, Fez, and Eric took the basement door, blocking them in.

- "Kelso! Forman! What the hell are you doing?!" Hyde shouted through the door.

- "C'mon guys, let us out!" Y/n called through the basement door.

- "No! Not until you confess your feelings for each other!" Jackie shouted through the door.

- "What?!" The two said together.

- "You think we haven't noticed the way you two are with each other?" Fez asked.

- Y/n looked at Steven before turning her attention back to the two girls blocking the door. "I don't know what you're talking about."

-"Oh, whatever, you are lying!" Jackie said.

- "Just tell her how you feel, man," Eric encouraged.

-After a few minutes of going back and forth with the group, the pair gave up and found themselves standing in front of each other.

- "Is it true?" he asked.

- She looked him in the eyes before nodding. "Yes. W-what about you?"

-He looked at her for a minute before he reached out, grabbing her face and roughly brought his lips to hers, bringing her in a bruising kiss.

-After what felt like a decade, they pulled apart lips swollen.

- "I'll take that as a yes," she said, chuckling.

-He tucked hair behind her ear before pecking her lips one more time. "Yeah," he said breathlessly.

-She smiled before leaning up one more time, kissing him softly, completely entranced by the kiss.

-And man was he a good kisser.

-She wrapped her arms around his neck as he wrapped his around her back and waist to pull her tight against his body.

- "Finally!" Fez called out from behind them.

-They break away to give him the "go away" look.

-"Now, let's go to the hub."