#no but i never want to go to that seminar but this week is particularly bad and you know- fuck it

[tardis--dreams]

I hate small classes. I feel like i should let my lecturer know i won't come to class today just because we're already very few people

#last time 6 people came so idk if the other 4 dropped out or just skipped last week #no one cares in a big course (15+ people) #but for these small ones it's always uncomfortable #i should just go but i also don't want to and i kinda feel like dying and I realized a while ago #that my actions have essentially zero consequences in university so if I don't go i will not get in trouble lol #and ever since i stopped caring about anything and i realized i can simply Not do things if i don't want to #I've been simply not doing things #(yeah no it's ruining my life) #no but i never want to go to that seminar but this week is particularly bad and you know- fuck it #i wanted to go home today but I'll probably stay for another day because a friend invited me to hang out tomorrow #and if I'm already here i might as well go to korean class too #and go home Thursday morning instead #idk #i hate it here #also I'm most certainly about to start my period any day now and i can feel the pain and uncomfortableness rising with every minute #void screams

[miekasa]

mie….could we please get college au eren headcanons👉🏽👈🏽

Of course. I’m always thinking about his big head anyway <33 might as well put it good use.

One thing he learned in college is how to make his hyperfocus/fixation episodes work for him; that’s why he schedules all his classes as close together as possible. He’d rather have class back to back for 5 hours, than have it spread out with hours in between lectures, because that increases his changes of cutting.

You can always tell when he’s in class and/or what class he’s in by how much he responds to your messages. If he doesn’t text back at all, he’s in a class that hard or one he enjoys, or both. But if he’s sending you iMessage games, then you know he’s in his elective that he couldn’t care else about (and is probably cheating in someway somehow lmfao). 

He usually puts his phone on dnd when he’s in a class that’s important, but you’re in his favorite contacts, so your messages always ring through. What if it’s an emergency and you need him for something? Advanced Roots of Human Biology can wait. 

Some days there are one or two our breaks between his lectures, that’s just how the scheduling works out. When that happens, he usually sneaks into one of your lectures, or goes to your place to take a nap. Your roommates have become accustomed to him, honestly they’ve been considering giving him a key. 

Once, he didn’t realize that your lecture was basically a seminar, with you, the prof and maybe six other students. He still stayed lmao, and the prof was so amazed by his dedication, that she didn’t even mind. Occasionally, you’ll catch the two of them talking after lecture. It’s pretty cute the way she’s adopted him into the class even tho he’s not on the roster. 

You... have to show him where the library is lmfao. He genuinely has not stepped foot in one until you bring him to one. He likes it tho lmao once he gets used to it. 

Speaking of which, do not give him standard directions to find your classes on campus because all you’ll get is, “Babe, I’m gonna keep it real with you, I’ve never heard of the ‘West Quad’ a day in my life. What building are you near.”

He usually comes to see you in the library after all his lectures are done for the day. Sometimes he does homework, sometimes he’s just fucking around on his computer, sometimes he’s just bothering you. When you have to leave to go to class, he stays behind to watch your stuff so you don’t have to pack everything up and come back. 

Very protective when it comes to keeping your seat for you. No, you cannot take that chair to your table you good for nothing freshman; it’s reserved for you. 

He’ll drag you out of the library if you’ve been cooped up all day, tho. Eren will use his height and his strength against you to get you up. Placates you with kisses when he sees your angry expression, and promises to buy you food.

He takes your backpack for you when you’re walking together,m. His backpack is frustratingly light all the time, even during midterms. You swear all he’s got in there is a pencil and some flashcards. 

If you have night classes, he sticks around to walk you home after, especially in the winter when it gets dark faster. If he’s not already on campus, he’ll walk/drive back to meet you; he just doesn’t like you going home alone. Even if your friend/roommate is in the class with you, Eren will walk or drive the both of you home for his own sanity. 

He plays sports, so he usually has practice most evenings, but he’ll find a way to make time. If practice was particularly brutal, he’ll probably crash at your place.

He loves it when you come to meet him after practice. His whole face lights up and he waves obnoxiously, before he gathers up his stuff and all but sprints towards you. You get a cold water bottle to the face, or a bit of water splashed on you usually, which he takes immense amusement in. 

He knows it’s not possible for you to make it to all of his games, and usually it doesn’t bother him much; you’ve got your own life, and work to worry about. All he asks is that you wear his jersey, or any item of his sports apparel/merch on game day (he’s partial to hoodies).

By the time junior year rolls around, he’s not all that interested in attending parties that aren’t hosted by your friends; so, unless it’s at Connie, Jean, or Reiner and Bertholdt’s place, Eren will usually decline. Even team parties, he’s not crazy about unless it’s to celebrate a championship or something. He’d much rather celebrate with you. 

He does get excited about hosting parties though, and he and Jean become pretty damn good co-hosts. They don’t throw ragers, and that’s probably why Eren likes it so much. It’s usually your friend group and a couple plus ones, some good music, games, weed, and take-out. 

He’ll buy you coffee whenever you ask for it. The first time, he just orders something plain, not really knowing the difference between anything; but give it two or three tries, and he’ll get it perfect. He becomes so good that he can order you something new/different and you’ll love it. 

That’s kind of the start of his own coffee addiction, and more often than not, when he buys you a cup, he’s on his second or third of the day himself. The flavor has really grown on him, okay. 

He much prefers your apartment, but on occasion, he’ll ask you to come to his. You’ve been studying for so long, a change of environment should do you good, he claims. He’s a fucking liar tho because that’s all Eren Talk for “I do genuinely want you to come over, but my plans are to coerce you out of doing your assignments and doing me instead.”

Lmfao he adds you on Apple Watch Rings just so you can see him close his rings every day and laugh at you. Even if yours get closed by virtue of walking around campus or working out or whatever, his numbers are stupidly high because he fucking has practice at least 4 days of the week. 

Of course when you’re running on a soccer field for 2 hours every day, you close your Move Ring five times, Eren. Leave the rest of us alone. 

He buys you guys matching accessories for your keychains. It’s something pretty cute, and slightly random, but it reminded him of you. It also serves as a reminder to himself to take his fucking keys with him when he leaves his house. 

He sleeps like a fucking rock, so do not let him fall asleep in the library. Waking him up is a mission, and he’s never happy to be woken up. He looks kinda cute tho. 

He schedules dates for you and his friends. Usually by accident, but hear me out. Sometimes he’ll make plans with Armin, then forget that he has class or a test or something; so his solution is to text you, “hey, i forgot min and i were supposed to go some aquarium tomorrow but i have a midterm so here’s the pdf of my ticket, go with him for me, thanks babe love u” then, boop, you and Armin have an aquarium date Friday evening. 

The same thing happens with Mikasa, though, she usually catches the scheduling conflict before Eren does, and invites you out herself. You and Mikasa hang out quite a bit anyway, so it comes to the point where she tells you when she’s gonna hang out with Eren, so you can make yourself free for when he inevitably remember he has a game that day. 

Mikasa is most amazed that you’ve put up with Eren this long lmao. You’ve certainly lessened her Eren & Armin babysitting hours, and for that she’s eternally grateful. Also, she’s just happy to have another close friend. She loves Eren and Armin, but they’re not the most social beings, and she was literally their only friend besides the other for all their childhood PLEASE she’s so happy you’re around. 

It’s Mikasa, however, who babysits you and Eren whenever you both get too drunk. Says you guys are two peas in a pod (affectionate<2)

If you tell Eren something important that happened, like an internship you got, or a good grade in a class, or something, he usually relays that information to his mom pls. He texts her every day, and if she doesn’t ask for an update on you first, he gives her one.

Carla calls you sometimes, too. At least once every few weeks, just to check on you herself. She really likes you for Eren, and is grateful someone is willing to put up with her hotheaded son. 

Eren’s always using your fucking chapstick. Always. You know he has his own, so why he needs to use yours is beyond you. Finds time to make some dumbass comment about how it’s an “indirect kiss” every time he uses it too. Like bro, we’re dating, and have had many direct kisses why are you like this.

He posts on Instagram every few weeks or so, but you’re on his story every few days. Usually, it’s just a video of you minding your business and doing your work while Eren slowly zooms in before making some loud noise to surprise you, all so he can get your reaction on video and laugh at it. He’s annoying. 

He’s a bit of a copycat when it comes to the products you use. He’ll buy the same brand of pens as you (for that matter, all of his school supplies mirror yours because what does he know about the difference between A4 and A5 notebooks?), put a little hand sanitizer on his backpack like yours (and a lotion, too, for good measure), he even copies your Starbucks order until he finds one he likes for himself. It’s one of his love languages <3

If you’re wondering where your eyelash curler went, Eren stole it to try it on himself, hurt himself, vowed to never use it again, went back because he wanted to “do it right and not give up,” liked the results when he didn’t pinch his eyelid, and now it’s his. 

That being said, stop trying to put your Fenty lipgloss on him, it’s never going to happen. Eye makeup, maybe, only if you sit in his lap and he can have his hands on your ass while you do it. 

What he does love is letting you do his skincare. He will set aside dedicated skincare nights, he adores it. Easily one of his favorite things ever. 

You have his wallet. Not because he’s your sugar daddy or anything (although, if you want something, he’d definitely let you use his card to get it; and even if you bought something without asking, he wouldn’t think twice about it), but because he put it in your bag once and never took it out. 

When you tried to give it back, he just shook his head and told you to keep it, “I have my ID in my phone case anyway, and you’re less likely to lose it. Plus I put all my cards on Apple Pay, so I’m good.”

When you do make it to a game of his, he’s all over you when it’s over. Not in a cocky athlete boyfriend kind of way; in a very sleepy boyfriend kind of way. He’s usually got ice on at least one part of his body, and he’s got half his body weight on you as you walk to the car. 

By the time you guys get back to your place, he’s practically sleep walking. The only thing on his mind is taking a hot shower to soothe his muscles, and heading to bed. The aftermath of game days aren’t all that bad though, because even if you didn’t show, you’re always there to kiss him when he’s home and massage his shoulders, and cuddle him to sleep; and that’s his favorite part. 

#anonymous #hes so fucking cute hes my fucking BOYFRIENDDDDDDDDD #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot imagines #eren fluff #eren smut

[bluejayblueskies]

an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

.

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

.

.

.

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

.

.

.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

.

.

.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

#archivalpride #the magnus archives #jongeorgie #jontim #jonmartin #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #georgie barker #melanie king #martin blackwood #my fic #my writing

[willowcrowned]

I am literally begging you to share the world building for the quiobi history department thing, you HAVE my attention 👀🙏🏻

I am delighted to share. Under the cut. Because this got long.

(Caveat that this all takes place in American academia, because that's what I'm familiar with.)

-

Qui-Gon got tenured a while back (with a very, very brilliant book), but he’s only ever published two articles since that happened and yet. And yet, SOMEHOW he keeps getting fellowships and miraculously fucking off to Europe and Asia for a semester. When he’s not doing that, he's taking his actual sabbatical, and when he's finally run out of fellowships and finished his sabbatical, he somehow manages to get out of teaching almost entirely. If he does teach it’s only graduate seminars.

That would be bad enough, but he’s impossible to get ahold of because he never checks his email (he says he’s forgotten the password. everyone knows he’s lying) and the only person who has his personal phone number is Obi-Wan. (This, incidentally, means that Obi-Wan doesn’t believe everyone when they complain about Qui-Gon because Obi-Wan can always get ahold of him.) Qui-Gon avoids very faculty meeting he can, and the ones he can’t avoid he drags out for hours over petty disputes so that no one can assign him to a committee or give him administrative tasks. He’s the WORST.

(The one time someone did actually manage to get him to teach an undergrad course, he was decent at it—lax with deadlines, so long as students proved they were thinking, and decent at getting things graded on time (even if that was only because he never really assigned anything). He got a fair few good student evaluations, and one or two bad ones that were angry with him for refusing to give extra credit the week before exams. Of course, the fact that he can teach but still avoids it like the plague makes everyone even more annoyed at him.)

Also, he does history of animal human relations, which aside from being weirdly popular, also nets him many jokes when people see him feeding the squirrels. Pathetic lifeforms, y'all.

-

Obi-Wan is slightly better than Qui-Gon in that he doesn’t fuck off to Europe every chance he gets, but he also somehow manages to get out of teaching any intro-level classes—and, in fact, almost any classes but graduate level seminars. (Yoda takes a good deal of the intro level classes despite the fact that he has the seniority to avoid them. No one knows why he likes them, but the going theory is that he finds terrifying tired freshman at 8am fun. He mentored Qui-Gon before he was tenured and taught Obi-Wan as an undergrad, so they’re both fairly fond of him and he’s fond of them).

Obi-Wan, unlike Qui-Gon, does check his email and keep office hours, and is generally a good professor, but he’s almost equally infuriating because he keeps managing to publish obscene amounts while also somewhow teaching a full load and helping with a thousand administrative tasks. No one knows how he does it, but they all want to throttle him in his sleep. Or they would, if he slept.

-

Mace is the chair of the department. He is tired. He is annoyed. He wishes Qui-Gon would stop being the bane of his existence, and also for the budget to stop being slashed, and also for one of their medievalists to stop being passive-aggressive on all the departmental email chains because they're getting divorced, and he really wouldn't say no to someone buying less-dry cookies for the departmental meetings.

-

Yoda is old. He has always been old. He has been in the history department since the beginning of time, cackling away in his cushy corner office that is ridiculously well-stocked with incredibly exotic teas. As mentioned above, he takes a lot of the intro-level courses, especially the 8am ones. He is widely regarded as a hero for this, because intro-level 8ams. His TAs adore him, though he does have a suspicious habit of "slipping" and hitting people in the ankle with his cane when they say something he finds particularly stupid.

-

What, you ask, is the actual narrative for this?

Yes.

#I'm MOSTLY kidding about that last bit #the narrative is that obi wan and qui gon are friends #and also in love #but they don't really know that second part #no one ever claimed a phd made you emotionally intelligent #star wars #i promise stuff DOES happen in this au #but since I'm probably going to write it as a few short one shots I don't want to spoil anything #quiobi #willow’s aus #academia au

[yinses]

college au! headcanons

gojo satoru, geto suguru & nanami kento

rqst: college au for nanami, geto and gojo?

a/n: so i divided it into three categories to help keep my head straight. honestly almost straight kicked gojo out of college bc i couldn’t decide on a major for him. the jjk discord server is heaven sent for my sanity. ty everyone again 🌺

last time i should have to post these. hoping everything is fine now. 

gojo satoru

MAJOR

—he starts off undecided for a long time. the fact that he’s on scholarship allows him to be more flexible with his classes given that he’s not responsible for costs. he grew up with expectations from his family but university is suppose to be his opportunity to spread his own wings and grow from his experiences.

—so he tries a bit of everything- sciences, music and social studies- anything to prompt a spark. (took a business class once and made a point to sit next to nanami everyday just to annoy him) by his second year he’s getting as frustrated as his counselor because if he doesn’t decide soon he’ll be a potential 5th year senior.

—he’s overthinking it but gojo wants to invest in what he believes will make the most significant impact to his ability. his counselor takes those crumbs and runs with it.

—he gets steered towards political science and actually excels at it (that advisor gets a raise). surprises most of the class with his analytical skills because they thought he was just a pretty boy- surprise he’s beautiful and smart.

—develops a vested interest in governmental policies. might run for president one day idk. brings donuts to his early am class. doesn’t share.

SOCIAL

—he’s not the jock per say, but as the star athlete of the basketball team, the school likes to take advantage of his image to draw in sponsors.

—his face is plastered all over the auditorium whether they’re in season or not. sometimes it’s not even to promote basketball, gojo is pretty and they’re not afraid to use it. which also makes him one of the most recognizable faces on campus.

—due to his student athlete contract, he’s not allowed to sign autographs freely in the event they’re attempted to be sold as quick cash. but yikes, he can barely walk to class without someone stopping him for a picture. to the best of his ability he tries to laugh it off, poster boy image and all, but it gets pretty fucking old and annoying quickly. especially when it makes him late for his next lesson and the instructor shows no sympathy.

—his height didn’t only help him get into basketball, but its also convenient when it comes to shouldering politely through the student masses. his golden rule is don’t make eye contact. the busier the crowds the easier it is for him to pretend like he could’t possibly have heard them.

—gojo doesnt scout fraternities, fraternities scout him. but he’s not interested in the slightest. as an athlete he already gets into any social circle he wants without the additional effort. that and he doesnt think he could tolerate an alpha male trying to exert his dominance without barking back.

—loves to show up to parties but always arrives late enough to the point where they don’t think he’s coming. it helps him slip in when he wants too. he’s a connoisseur of all alcohol varieties and a master of beer bong. he’s not necessarily the life of the party but his presence is kind of hard to miss.

RELATIONSHIPS

—he gets too much attention to date casually. most potential suitors are in it more for the benefits they receive than him anyway. he’s got enough on his plate with career indecisiveness and games to try to pursue anything serious before third year.

—he’s not completely celibate though. he tries to keep the same partners as long as he can. not only to keep himself clean and safe but because he often goes into an agreement to keep it casual. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. either way he gets coined as a ‘heartbreaker’ before the end of his freshman year. frankly the rumors obscure most of the truth and give him more freedom. people always expect that he’s with someone even when he’s not, which helps keep his invasive teammates off his back.

—gojo can easily graduate without securing something tangible but there is still a window for potential.

—you’re both his consistent classmate and occasional friends with benefits. its the former title that keeps bringing him back around. he cant exactly avoid you without subjecting himself to 8am classes. it helps that the sex is good too.

—he can text you an offer to study together for the next test and roll over after an hour and wreck you for the rest of the week. its hard to tell who gets addicted first but he does appreciate the way your skin looks when youre wearing his marks.

geto suguru

MAJOR

—he’s a STEM kid, particularly interested in bio-genetics to improve overall health. he believes that simply becoming a physician just keeps the issue at bay and his goal is to eradicate the problem at its source.

—since high school he’s been cataloging different programs across the country before deciding what he wanted and putting all his efforts into it. so it’s no surprise when he gets in.

—geto doesn’t need counselors but they’re required so he listens to them prattle on about using university as an opportunity to explore. this man came in with more college credits than most sophomores, he knows what he wants.

—always on-time to class and never misses an assignment. also that kid who goes above and beyond, even on the simple stuff. he rarely gets teased about it, not even behind his back. geto straight up scares some people even when he’s smiling.

—not afraid to correct teachers when they’re wrong. in fact he lives for it.

—he’s the one who graduated early and starts his master’s program before most of his age group declare their own majors.

SOCIAL

—he tends to frequent the same circles- handpicking his acquaintances out of class rosters, clubs and honor lists. he’s less in it for the friendship and more so to scout for potential research partners.

—met gojo in one of his science electives and literally carried him through the class. they somehow end up friends but only really hang out at each other’s places- bunch of chill movie nights and pizza.

—there is no interest in fraternities, but he does join university funded clubs that allow him to further his research. they give him unique access to labs, take him on trips to different conventions and have an alumni list a kilometer long for future collaborations.

—the man does not party but he will occasionally slip into quieter bars to ease some of his frustrations. he actually enjoys karaoke thursdays , not to sing for himself but the drunken antics of others bring him some amusement.

—smokes weed occasionally, but only his own product. it helps him relaxand fan out the stress. he never sells it but sometimes gojo nicks some of his stash. given that he gets drug tested often, geto doesn’t know how the athlete never gets caught.

RELATIONSHIPS

—not interested in seeking out relationships in the slightest. the man has a plan and he’s already married to it.

—he’s not completely immune to sexual advances though and occasionally splurges but none of the friends with benefits crap. he’ll hit it once and stay celibate for the rest of the year easily.

—you might be able to squeeze in as his fellow lab partner. remain invested in the work and not him and he’ll start noticing the little details of your company- the way you subtle perfume lingers on his lab coat hours after you’ve adorned for the day, how he knows you have to keep your hair up for safety precautions but he thinks about running his fingers through it daily and your mind, damn, he wonders what else you can come up with when he has you laid out on his sheets.

—if he’s interested, geto won’t hesitate to broach the topic. he’ll ask you out for coffee and when you try to bring up research he’ll be upfront about his attraction. ultimately if you start dating the two of you are an absolute unit- not that you weren’t before.

—you’re the one variable he didn’t plan for but he’s glad to have added you to the equation.

nanami kento

MAJOR

—he was made for the business world, brought by a CEO who raised him to inherit the company. administration major marketing minor.

—takes initiative in all his classes and is often coined as group leader for projects. mostly keeps to himself  and only speaks up when prompted or disagrees with something.

—he takes the earliest sessions possible because it means less people more often than not. doesn’t really care if its in the front, middle or back but always sits near the edge.

—doesn’t really want to but it looks good on his resume so he joins the marketing team where they present mock business plans for competitions. they win a lot. nanami honestly doesn’t care. but again it looks good.

—it only took him a brief summer internship to learn that he found nothing satisfying about board meetings and macro management.

—he decides to invest in law school to handle the company from a legal standpoint instead.

SOCIAL

— sort of like geto, only wants to make friends on a need be basis.

—he would rather keep to himself but knows the benefits of socializing so he interacts with his frequent classmates when he can- through study groups or car pooling to seminars.

—he does join a fraternity, its the same one his father did (and uncles, cousins, whatnot. its a generational thing). its geared towards bettering future leaders. they focus building resumes, charity events and run the organization like a proper business. nanami gets elected president by his third year and runs two terms.

—the only parties he attends are networking events- full of wine and fancy horderves. wine is plentiful but he’s always nursing a scotch on top of his headache. if one more person squeezes their stocks into a conversation he’s going to personally take down the whole market

—zero interest in college party life. spends some of his downtime at the campus theater watching old time movies and classic plays.

—he’s the coffee shop hoe. he wakes up early sometimes just to sit by the window and read some casual literature. has his own thermo that gives him free refills to cart to class. do not talk to this man before he’s had his caffeine.

RELATIONSHIP

—he probably has a high school sweetheart that he’s still clinging too, whether on the same campus or long distance. it helps him because he can’t really see himself pursuing a relationship while focusing on school.

—he’s been with you long enough that you understand his ambitions and won’t feel bested by them. the two of you have a system- starting the day off with sweet ‘good morning’ texts before class and ending the day with long conversations as you digest the last 12 hours.

—nanami is independent but he is thankful to have you to rely on when classes start to overwhelm him. the two of try to escape briefly for the weekend when you can. often going to near by reservations just to get off campus

—other times the two of you will cuddle close on your dorm bed, his long fingers combing through your hair while he reads over some notes for class.

—sometimes you have to be the one to tell him to take a break and to enjoy life while he can. even if that means dragging him the events and concerts hosted on campus. he resists at first but you can see the tension ebbing away as the night comes to a close.

—the two of you start living together in your senior year just because you can. he insists on buying a house. not only because he can afford it because it can be rented out after graduation. always the business man.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #nanami x reader #geto suguru x reader #Jujutsu Kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo blessings #gojo satoru x reader #geto blessings #nanami blessings

[erin-bo-berin]

Enemies Closer

MASTERLIST

Happy smutty Spencer Saturday! This fic has been hidden in the depths of my brain for way too long. I knew I wanted to do an enemies to lover fic for a while but didn’t have much more for it until recently. The title comes from the famous saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer”.

I want to say a big thank you to all of my followers who sent in quips, jabs and bantery remarks. I tried to use them all because they were all so wonderful. Thank you to @dreatine @andiebeaword @sammy-jo1977 @redbullchick and the numerous anons who contributed. Also a big thank you to @multifandommandy for coming up with the idea of the reader interviewing the little girl, it really helped move the story along and add to it. I appreciate all your ideas and help 💕

Okay, enjoy the 10k words of sassy, smutty Spencer Reid. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 10,088

Spencer was walking back to his desk when he heard JJ’s voice.

“Really? When?”

There was a pause on her end of the phone conversation. She looked up and saw Spencer, immediately waving him over.

Spencer’s interest was piqued. He wondered what was going on, especially since there was a huge grin on her face. He approached her desk just as JJ spoke again.

“That sounds great, mom. I can’t wait.”

Spencer smiled. JJ and her mom were extremely close and he always looked forward to her visits—she made the best triple chocolate chip cookies he’d ever tasted. He opened his mouth to tell her to say hi from him, when she practically read his mind.

“By the way Spencer says hi.” 

JJ shot him a wink, grinning at the fact that she knew him well enough to know exactly what he was about to say. He chuckled to himself. They definitely were close enough to know what one another was thinking.

“Sounds good. See you then. Bye.”

JJ hung up her phone, turning in her chair to face him fully.

“Is your mom coming to visit?”

“She is,” JJ smiled, “And she’s bringing your favorite triple chocolate chip cookies.”

“Bless that woman,” he chuckled.

“There’s also something else,” JJ trailed off nervously, a flicker of worry in her blue eyes.

“What?”

“Y/N’s visiting too...and she’s kinda stuck with me, or well us for the next week. So if we get a case, she’s coming with us.”

Spencer groaned loudly.

“Why?”

“Mom has a business seminar in downtown D.C. and you know Will took the boys to Disney World this week. I’m not going to make her sit at home alone for a week.”

“Why? It would be for the greater good of humanity. I’ll even be willing to chip in for a hotel room for her,” Spencer said, hoping JJ would actually take him up on the offer, “Particularly one across the country.” 

“Spencer,” JJ eyed him warily, “Emily already said it was okay. She knows to stay out of the way while we work.”

“Yet she’s always in my way.”

“Spence, she’s not that bad. Why do you hate her so much?” she asked.

“Last time she visited she “accidentally” spilled an entire pot of coffee on my favorite work shirt!” Spencer protested.

“Just like you “accidentally” locked her in an interrogation room?” JJ raised a brow.

Yeah, that hadn’t been his finest moment. But she had driven him crazy that day.

“She wandered in there on her own. I was just helping the situation along,” he shrugged innocently.

“You’re lucky she didn’t burn the building down,” JJ mumbled.

“Yeah, well, she pushed me to my limit that day. Sorry.”

“What is it with you two? You fight worse than her and I ever did.”

“She’s annoying, rude and drives me crazy. I honestly can’t believe she’s your sister, let alone related to you. JJ, you know I love you, but I just can’t stand her. We’re just two completely different people that probably will never get along.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ held her hands up in defeat, “At least try to be on your best behavior?”

“No promises,” he grumbled.

“Hey, look at it this way. At least you get cookies,” she stood, patting his arm before walking away.

He was positive even cookies wouldn’t make up for this.

•

“Y/N while you’re here, can you please try to be nice to your sister’s coworkers?”

You suppressed a groan.

You were currently in the elevator with your mother at the FBI in Quantico, riding up the numerous floors to the Behavioral Analysis Unit, where your sister JJ worked. In your arms were a stack of containers, filled with sweets your mom had made for the team.

There were her famous triple chocolate chip cookies made with milk, dark and white chocolate chips, some apple cobbler, cupcakes and even a strawberry pie. JJ’s team were suckers for Sandy Jareau’s delicacies.

“Mom, I love the team. They’re like extended family, you know that.”

“You know what I mean.”

Your mom gave you a look that you swore only mothers could perfect. It was partly calling out your bullshit and part disciplinary all at the same time. It was amazing, really, 29 years old and you were still getting the “you better not act out” look from her. What were you, eight?

“I mean that lovely Dr. Reid. You’re always so mean to him.”

“He starts it.”

Okay, maybe you were eight.

“Y/N.”

The warning tone in her voice was all you needed to keep your mouth shut.

“All I’m saying is I don’t want another call from JJ saying you’ve gotten locked in an interrogation room and almost got arrested for assaulting a FBI agent.”

“Okay that was one time!” you said, exasperated, “Granted, it wasn’t my finest hour. But still. It’s not like I’m that bad all the time.”

“Really?” your mom looked at you, all knowingly, “What about that one time at JJ’s housewarming party?”

“I swear I didn’t glue his shoes to the floor!”

In your defense, that had been Derek Morgan, back when he was still working in the FBI, prior to his resignation. Of course though, no one believed that he had done it, apparently including your mother.

“Whether you did it or not, that’s not the point. You would’ve done it given the opportunity.”

You couldn’t deny that. 

“Just don’t stress JJ out any more than she is. She said when the two of you are fighting it’s like trying to corral two feisty chihuahuas.”

You sighed, defeated.

“I’ll try to be on my best behavior mom.”

“Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you’d arrived at your designated floor and the metal doors slid open to reveal your sister and of course, Spencer.

Spencer Reid, the biggest nemesis of your entire life.

He was absolutely infuriating. 

Tall, imposing, three PhDs, IQ of 187, Doctor Spencer Reid. That’s right, he wasn’t just Agent Reid, he was Dr. Reid. It was eye roll inducing.

He was a know-it-all, quite literally. If anyone said something even the slightest bit wrong, he didn’t hesitate to correct them. A person could breathe wrong and he’d probably correct that.

He constantly spewed facts. That was annoying enough in itself. You had no idea how JJ put up with it. But then again she was best friends with the guy. That blew your mind enough in itself.

If he wasn’t so annoying, he might actually be attractive. With a stature of over six feet, he was lean but without being a beanpole. His light brown curls always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and/or never taken a brush to his hair. His eyes were definitely interesting though. You could never tell if they were brown, green or maybe even hazel.

Not that you’d been paying that close of attention. Nor did you care.

He had significantly more facial hair than the last time you’d seen him. Not a bad look for him, you had to give him that.

JJ once told you that a college class he’d taught for two weeks was filled with nothing but young girls auditing his course. She said it had confused Spencer. It confused you too cause you didn’t see how he was that attractive. He was kinda cute, if you liked the whole snobby, genius who doesn’t brush his hair, smartass type.

Oddly enough, you’d known him for half your life, yet couldn’t recall how or when you started hating him. It just seems like it had been that way all along, when in fact, it hadn’t.

“Mom! Y/N!” JJ exclaimed, grinning wide.

You felt a burst of happiness in your chest. You’d missed your sister. Despite the 11 year age difference, you guys were close growing up.

You were still a baby when your older sister Rosalyn had committed suicide, so you didn’t remember much about her, sadly. It was really hard on JJ as she was the one to find her. But as she’d told you much later, you’d helped her grieve. Reliving memories and keeping Rosalyn’s memory alive in sharing stories with you helped her heal after such a traumatic situation. It was often that you’d wished you’d had the chance to know your oldest sister, but with her death came an impenetrable close bond between you and JJ.

JJ immediately wrapped her arms around your mother, hugging her tight. You gave a nod of your head, your arms too full to be able to hug her at the moment.

“I’ll just go put these in the briefing room,” you said.

You turned, aiming to head through the glass doors of the BAU’s entrance, but instead ran right into Spencer.

“Here, I got it,” he took several of the boxes out of your arms so you could see properly again, “If only to save you from injuring anyone else.”

“My knight in shining armor,” you muttered sarcastically.

“Watch where you’re going next time.”

“You watch where you’re going. Besides, I didn’t need your help,” you retorted.

“Obviously, you did,” Spencer mumbled, following you through the doors.

You hadn’t even made it all the way through the entrance when you heard your mom and JJ sigh in unison. You heard JJ’s words loud and clear, as well.

“They’re already bickering less than five minutes in. Must be a new record.”

It kinda was. Usually, the two of you managed to avoid each other until the inevitable crossing of paths occurred. Today, though, you both had started in, right off the bat.

You placed the numerous arrays of desserts on the round table, knowing by tomorrow they’d pretty much all be gone.

“You’re welcome for the help,” Spencer snarked, setting down the few containers he’d carried.

You couldn’t help it, you rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t ask for it. So there’s no reason to thank you.”

“It’s the polite thing to do. Oh, wait. I forgot you don’t know how to be polite. My bad.”

You glared at him, the hatred stirring in your gut.

“I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure to see you again, Y/N, but it hasn’t,” Spencer said.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go greet your mother who actually deserves and appreciates my kindness.”

“Kindness, my ass,” you muttered as he walked away.

He turned, almost to the door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” you smiled in a fake, sweet matter.

He scoffed, turning and walking away.

Only when his back was turned did your fake demeanor drop and you stuck your tongue out at him.

This man would be the death of you yet.

•

“Penelope just got us a case. Luckily, it’s right here in our backyard so you can just sit in while we work. But please try to control your mouth.”

“JJ, I’m almost 30 years old,” you replied.

“Yes, but you still have a sharp tongue.”

“I promise not to make a scene, cause any trouble or be in the way. I know you have to work Jayj.”

After a round of greetings and hugs from the team and promises to stay longer when she returned from her business seminar, your mom had dashed off, leaving you at the BAU.

You looked up to see Emily Prentiss, JJ’s friend and boss motioning for her to join them in the briefing room.

“The team has to be debriefed about this case. Are you going to be okay here?”

You spun back and forth in her desk chair, motioning to the book you’d brought to read.

“I’ll be fine. Go work,” you shooed her.

JJ bounded off and up the stairs to the meeting and you picked up your book, ready to be entranced by the wonderful fantasy world of your book, far away from your reality.

-

“Why do people read that garbage? It does nothing but fills a person’s head with nonsense. It’s stupid and a waste of time. Although, now that I think of it, that’s probably a perfect fit for you.”

You peered up over the edge of your book.

You’d just gotten to a good part in your book. Your heroine was just getting ready to destroy the enemy and his lair, saving her love interest from the clutches of evil. It was a shame you couldn’t throw Spencer in the cage that your heroine was saving her lover from. Now that would make the book perfect.

“I’m reading. If you don’t mind.”

“Well it offends me. At least read something good. War and Peace is a good recommendation. Good story. I read it at breakfast last weekend,” Spencer said.

You turned up your nose. Leave it to Spencer to brag about his ability to read 20,000 words a minute and offer atrocious book recommendations in the same sentence. That in itself was offensive enough to you.

“This is why you don’t get dates, isn’t it?” you snipped.

He ignored the quip. 

“I’m supposed to ask you for help with the case.”

Now this was interesting. You raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think I want to help you?”

“You do realize the entire world doesn’t revolve around you, right?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, “There’s kids that are going missing.”

That sobered you quickly. You dropped any anger you had at him, for the moment, realizing how serious the matter was.

“How? What’s happening?”

“Four kids have gone missing. We can’t figure out how or why. They haven’t shown up yet, so we’re hopeful that they’re still alive,” Spencer said, lips narrowed into a thin line.

“What do you need my help for then?”

“Because to understand what happened to them, we need to profile these kids.”

•

“Okay so we know from his parents, six year old Erik Yates was incredibly shy,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard where the pictures of the four missing children were hung.

“He wouldn’t have talked to his own school teacher, let alone a stranger,” David Rossi said.

“But his best friend, Carlos Hoffman also went missing with him. They were having a sleepover, so he’d been at Erik’s house,” Emily added.

“And Carlos was the more outgoing of the two, wasn’t he?” you asked.

“Yup,” Tara said, flipping through her notes, “According to the parents, wherever Carlos went Erik was always close behind. So if they encountered a stranger, if Carlos was willing to go, Erik would likely follow.”

“I don’t know about that,” you piped in, “I’ve seen friendships like that in my class. Even if the kid is quiet, if they know something is wrong, they either say something to their friend or they just don’t do it period. I find it hard to believe that Erik would go along with someone he wasn’t comfortable with.”

“Says the one that’s not a profiler,” Spencer mumbled from where he was standing, examining the evidence board.

JJ shot him a look, before returning to the conversation. You pretended not to hear that one and for once, bit your tongue. You wouldn’t accomplish anything by arguing with Spencer at the moment.

“So let’s go back to the top,” Matt said, “Mrs. Yates went to the door and there was someone there either selling something or had an excuse made up for the unsub to guilt trip money out of her. She leaves to get her purse. The kids are in the living room playing. Then suddenly, by the time she gets back, all three are gone.”

“That’s how her story goes,” Luke said, looking through interview notes.

“What about the other children?” you asked, “How were they taken?”

“One was kidnapped at the park, the other at the grocery store,” Spencer answered.

“What if it’s someone familiar with their routines?” you asked.

You weren’t anywhere close to being a profiler, but you knew enough from JJ to sort of get by in this conversation.

“A lot of my kids and their families have strict routines. Usually because it benefits the child and/or they have other children that they keep on a schedule too. Wouldn’t that mean that it’s someone that they know?”

“It could,” Emily said, “But unfortunately that doesn’t narrow down much because the unsub could also just be stalking these families before the kidnapping. The unsub could potentially be a complete stranger to them.”

“Have you asked the parents of the children if they could think of anyone who could do this? Is there anyone that might overlap with these families?” you inquired.

JJ had opened her mouth to answer you, but of course, Spencer had to add his two cents. 

“Are you an idiot? Of course, we did,” Spencer snapped, “That’s always the first thing we do.”

You bristled. Even when working together, he couldn’t be civil. He had the nerve to try and insult you and make you feel stupid, even though all you were trying to do was help.

“I’m not an idiot, Spencer,” you grit out.

“Oh really? You sure do act like one sometimes,” he retorted, writing something on the board.

Your defenses snapped back into place and you were ready to shoot back a remark when JJ interrupted you.

“Hey, hey, you guys. Quit it before I have to send you both into separate corners for timeout. We’re all on the same team here, trying to accomplish the same thing. Let’s just focus.”

“Matt, Dave, JJ, I want you to go and reinterview the parents. Y/N has a point. We need to make absolutely sure there’s no one in these families lives that connect with one another,” Emily ordered.

“Luke, Tara; both of you go to the schools. See if there’s been any strangers lurking around. We can’t rule out a sexual predator just yet, but it would help vastly if we could.”

“Penelope, you and I are going to work on a deep dive of these families.”

Garcia’s face scrunched at Emily’s order; she hated diving into people’s personal lives, but unfortunately it sometimes came with the job.

“We’re going to make sure that these parents aren’t holding back any secrets that could possibly help us.”

Emily turned towards you and Spencer next.

“Spence, I want you to start on a geo profile, see if we can figure out the vicinity of the unsub’s hunting grounds. Maybe we might even be able to find where he’s holding them.”

“On it.”

Spencer was already grabbing a map, spreading it across the round table.

“Y/N, I want you to help him.”

Spencer’s head snapped up.

“Hell no. Emily please-”

She held up her hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. That’s an order. If you disobey, I will put you behind a desk for a month.”

He relented, but you could tell he wasn’t happy about it. Not like you were pleased at all by it either.

“Try not to burn the room down while you’re working,” she instructed, walking out to meet Garcia in her lair.

Once she left, Spencer spun towards you.

“Let’s get one thing clear. You’re not to bother me while I work. You stay out of my way. I don’t need your help, nor do I want it. I can do my work just fine without you. I’ve been doing it for 15 years,” he snapped.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Spencer. Even I can tell when your IQ gets slashed to 60.”

“That’s the best you got, Y/N? I didn’t realize they let bimbos into the FBI. Oh wait...that’s right. I’m the one that’s the actual agent here. What is it you do again?”

“I’m a kindergarten teacher. You know that, you dumbass or else I wouldn’t be here helping you.”

“Oh, guess there’s no sleeping to the top in that field. Although, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Your fists clenched. Spencer made you mad like no other could. Not even JJ could ever make you this mad.

“Just sit down and shut up while the adults work, okay?” he sneered at you.

“I’m not a child!”

You crossed your arms defensively. You weren’t about to let him get in all the insults. Ignoring him never worked, he was too obnoxious. So you just played it like he did, by slinging insults like dodgeballs at him.

“Well if you’re going to act like a child, I’m going to treat you like a child!” he threw back.

His eyes were blazing, his cheeks gone pink from his anger. 

“Funny because you act more immature than my kindergartners.”

“WILL YOU TWO CAN IT AND GET TO WORK?!”

You both jumped at the sound of Garcia yelling from the bullpen. She made the motion that she’d be keeping her eyes on you two. You threw one more scowl Spencer’s way before flopping down on the sofa on the other side of the room.

This week was going to last an eternity.

•

Two days passed with no luck on finding an unsub, but they’d managed to put a profile together based on what little they did know.

The entire team was worried and on edge. Of course, that made the situation between you and Spencer even more volatile.

“Are you sure you’re an actual qualified agent? All you do is stand in front of a room full of police or your team and say smart things and gesture with your hands,” you mimicked Spencer, doing exactly what he was just doing earlier while they gave the profile.

“I do not look like that! You look like a baby dinosaur who doesn’t know how to walk,” he jeered.

“Yes, you do. All I’m saying is these civil service exams must be really easy to pass nowadays, huh?” you smirked.

“You know I’d ask if you could really be any more infuriating, but I’m afraid you’d take that as a challenge,” Spencer huffed, “Besides I’m supposed to be “nice” to you, since you’ve been so helpful.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you grinned mischievously, “I’ve been what?”

“I’m just quoting what Emily said. In my opinion you’ve been more like a pain in my ass,” he mumbled, looking through one of the case files.

“Oh sure because without me, would you’ve figured out that the unsub is a woman?”

“Probably. Don’t pat yourself on the back, sweetheart. You’re no match for us real profilers, Y/N.”

“I may not be, but you’ve met your match with me, pretty boy,” the nickname falling from your lips with deep sarcasm, “You can’t help but fight with me. For some reason I get under your skin and frankly, I enjoy it. It’s nice to know you can actually squirm, Spencer Reid.”

His lips pursed and he was about to speak when the phone rang. He answered it, putting it on speaker. Garcia’s excited voice came through it.

“Reid, gather the team. You won’t believe what I’ve found.”

•

“So it turns out, one of our families did have a secret. Although, it was something we weren’t even looking for,” Penelope said.

“What’s that Garcia?” Tara asked.

“The family of the first missing child: Daisy Rowe, had a nanny once. Her name is Kali Dye.”

Garcia hit the remote button to pull up the woman’s picture on the big screen at the front of the room.

“What does she have to do with our case?” Luke asked.

She stared at him, exasperated.

“If I could finish what I was saying, you’d know,” Penelope griped.

“Okay, okay,” Luke chuckled, “Carry on.”

You lived for Luke and Penelope’s playful banter. It was like the complete opposite of you and Spencer. They liked each other at the end of the day—not to mention everyone knew deep down they were definitely attracted to one another. Their banter was flirty. Yours and Spencer’s was anything but.

“As I was saying,” Penelope continued, “Kali was the nanny to the Rowe family back in 2016 when Daisy was only two years old. There was an incident where apparently she turned her back on little Daisy playing in the backyard. Daisy got too near the pool and almost drowned. She was in the hospital for a few days afterwards. The parents were obviously furious. I’m guessing Mrs. Rowe told all her friends about it because according to my research, Kali’s nannying career was basically ruined.”

“So you think this is an act of revenge? Did she nanny for any of the other kids she kidnapped?” Emily asked.

“No, that’s where it gets weird. She seems to have no connection to these other children,” Garcia said.

“Well we know who our unsub most likely is,” JJ said, “But how are we going to find out where she and the kids are?”

“I checked for that. There’s no significant places that she would take them, her old family house isn’t even in the state and besides it’s been sold years ago,” Penelope answered.

Emily’s phone rang as the team continued to throw around ideas of where to find Kali. 

“Prentiss.”

You watched Emily’s face quickly change expressions, from neutral to shock, to worry, back to businesslike.

“Okay, bring her to Quantico. We’ll need to interview her.”

Emily hung up, turning to the team.

“The second child kidnapped, Eden Jenson just showed up at a police station in D.C. She managed to get away and ran for help. We need to interview her, but she hasn’t spoken yet. The chief of the police station is having one of his detectives drive here so we can interview her,” Emily filled the rest of the team in.

“I’ll talk to her. I’m pretty good at getting kids to talk,” Spencer said.

“Actually, I think we should let Y/N do it,” JJ said, looking at Emily.

“What?! She has no experience interviewing a witness, much less a victim!” Spencer exclaimed.

“I worked in art therapy when I was getting my degree as a teacher. I still use some in my class, plus I’m a teacher,” you said defiantly, “I know how to talk to kids.”

“I agree with JJ,” Emily said, “But Spencer, sit in with her just in case you need to intervene.”

You were sure he was going to do plenty of that.

•

An hour later, you and Spencer were sitting in front of a little, terrified Eden. Her—what you assumed were once neat—blonde pigtails were in all types of disarray. Pieces stood up everywhere while other strands came loose, hanging around her face. She was clutching her bunny stuffie, which you figured had been with her when she was kidnapped.

She had refused to talk to anyone, shrinking away frightfully at any imposing adults. You had to restrain yourself from literally pushing Spencer out the door when she shrunk even more into herself when she saw Spencer’s tall frame.

She’d been previously asked if she was hungry or thirsty in which she barely nodded. Now, she sat a bit less rigidly as she ate her Goldfish crackers and sipped on her juice box.

“Eden, my name is Y/N and this is my…friend, Spencer.”

You had to admit, you had a rough time getting that one out. 

“We just want to talk to you, okay?” you said.

The little girl just stared back at you, wide eyed.

“Do you like to color?” you asked.

Still no response.

You pulled out some paper and a pack of crayons from a bin next to the desk. You pushed them across towards her.

“Could you draw something for us?”

It took a moment of Eden staring at the items before she opened the box and picked up a crayon.

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions while you color?”

You didn’t expect an answer, so you weren’t surprised when none came.

“Are you six years old? Six is a fun age. Are you in kindergarten or first grade?”

Eden looked up at you, from underneath her lashes, just briefly, before returning to drawing.

“I’m a kindergarten teacher myself. I’m used to seeing kids your age all the time. It’s spring break though and I miss my kids terribly. Do you miss going to school?”

Spencer shifted in his seat. You knew time was a delicate thing right now, but you were trying to get her to trust you.

“Eden?” 

She looked up again. If she was surprised to hear Spencer speak for the first time, she didn’t show it.

“Could you describe the place you were at?”

Fear flashed in her eyes and she dropped her crayon, hugging tightly to her bunny.

You glared at Spencer.

“Just keep drawing, Eden. Okay? We’ll be right back,” you said, standing up, your hand a death grip on his arm.

Once the two of you had stepped out of the room and the door was closed behind you, you whirled on him.

“How can you be so stupid? I thought you were supposed to be a genius!”

“Y/N, you know we’re running on limited time to find those kids. We don’t know if Kali will hurt them or not!”

“I realize that. I’m trying to make her comfortable enough to talk about it.”

“Avoiding it doesn’t seem to be helping either,” he grimaced, hands on his hips.

“You saw what happened when you brought it up! She was terrified!”

“When dealing with a traumatized child you should tell them information about the situation they were in. It’s best they learn it from a trusted adult. Besides, it’s most likely they want to talk about it, but just don’t know how to bring it up.”

“And how would you know all of this, doctor?”

“Because contrary to your beliefs about me, I actually know how to do my job and how to do it well. I’ve dealt with things like this many times before. 60% of adults report being traumatized in childhood. 26% of children in the United States alone will witness or experience a traumatic event before the age of four.”

You blinked, unable to process so much information at once.

“Are you even human?” 

“Are you?” Spencer shot back, eyes narrowed.

“You know, with all things considered, I’d thought you’d gotten the idea that I really hate you.” you sneered.

“Really? And here I thought that was your version of flirting,” he retaliated, sarcastically.

“Moron,” you muttered under your breath.

“Now, if you’re through calling me names, I’ve got work to do,” he said, reaching behind you for the doorknob.

“Wait,” you grabbed his arm, “Just let me try again first? Please? If I get stuck or need you, I’ll let you know.”

It was some of the most civil words you’d said to him in a long time. But you didn’t want to give up on this little girl. You wanted to help her and prove to Spencer and yourself if you were being honest, that you could do it.

He must’ve noticed your serious tone and pleading eyes because he relented. He nodded and you turned to go back in.

Eden was waiting for you when you returned, back to clutching her bunny.

“Don’t you want to finish your picture?” you asked, sitting down in front of her.

She pushed it across to you.

“Oh are you done?”

She nodded.

You picked up the picture, noticing four stick figures. Two seemed to be girls, two seemed to be boys. They looked like they could represent all four missing kids.

“Are these you and your friends?” you asked gently.

She didn’t say anything for a beat, then came a soft, timid voice.

“They aren’t my friends...at least not until a few days ago.”

“My friends here, they found out that you didn’t know these other three children. Is that right?”

Eden nodded again.

“Do you know the woman who took you?”

“No,” she said, equally as quiet as before.

“You’re doing a great job, Eden,” you smiled at her, hoping to encourage her, “Just a few more questions, okay?”

Another nod.

“Can you describe where you were?”

“I...I don’t know,” her voice trembled, as if she were going to cry.

You heard the door open up behind you and you turned to see Spencer. He gave you a terse shake of his head, as if telling you now was not the time to snap at him.

“Eden?” Spencer came around to her side and crouched by her, “You remember me, right? I’m Spencer.”

She nodded hesitantly.

“I want to try to help you help Miss Y/N here. To tell her what the place looked like that you were at.”

“But I don’t remember,” Eden said, frowning.

“I think you do. You know how when you’re afraid, you hide?” Spencer asked gently.

Eden nodded her answer.

“Well, that’s kinda what your brain is doing. It’s scared, so you think you can’t remember. What I want to do is have you to close your eyes and think back to before you were taken.”

“No, I’m scared,” Eden whimpered, hugging the stuffie.

“It’ll be okay. I’m right here,” he offered her his hand, which she took reluctantly, “I’ll be right here the entire time. If things get too scary, just squeeze my hand and we can stop. Alright?”

“Alright.”

She closed her eyes, listening to Spencer’s voice.

You were amazed at how soft and gentle he was with her. It was like seeing all of his razor sharp edges he displayed around you, smoothed out. You couldn’t remember if you’d ever heard him like this.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice,” Spencer whispered, “You were playing at the park. What were you doing?”

“Playing on the swing with my bunny,” she said.

“Okay, that’s good Eden, you’re doing wonderful. What do you hear?”

“Lots of kids playing. They’re very loud.”

“What happens next?”

“There’s a lady behind me. She asks if I would like to play in the sandbox with her. I told her yes but I didn’t want to get bunny dirty.”

Eden is trembling now and you eye Spencer warily. He holds his free hand up and you don’t say anything, just yet.

“Very good Eden. Did you go play in the sandbox?”

“No. She took my hand and led me away from the swings. I asked her where she’s going because the sandbox was the other way.”

“Do you want to stop, Eden?” Spencer asked.

“N-No. I a big girl like mommy always says.”

“Okay. What happened then, sweetheart?”

“She grabbed me and put her hand over my mouth. I tried screaming for my mommy, but I couldn’t. She took me to a car.”

“Can you remember what the car looked like?”

“Um, blue. It was blue. It had a lot of doors. It was long too.”

Spencer looked like he realized what she was describing.

“Did the middle door slide open and closed?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed.

“It was big inside with lots of seats. That’s all I saw before she covered my eyes.”

It sounded like an SUV or family van.

“When you were in the car, did you ride for a really long time? Or a short time?”

“A short time.”

You jotted the note down.

“One last question honey. Do you remember anything about the room you were in? What did it look like?”

“Like...like my bedroom. Only much dirtier. And old looking. There’s...there’s flowers on the wall. There’s a lot of toys, but I don’t want to play. I want to go home. Me and my friends are so scared. She’s coming back, she's coming back!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay! I’m right here.”

Eden’s eyes snapped open and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her tightly as she trembled.

She didn’t let go of him until her parents arrived.

•

After kicking the information over to Garcia and her being the goddess she is at finding even the most hidden information, she found the house.

The team had found her car, registered to Kali, but with a false last name. From there, Garcia looked for any run down buildings or homes for rent within 10 to 15 minutes of that park. The team agreed that Kali wouldn’t have bought a house for the simple reason of too much work. She didn’t seem to be that dedicated to a well thought out plan. That was when Garcia discovered an old house rented under the name of Kali Rowe, the same last name of the family she had been a nanny for.

You stayed behind while the team went out to rescue the children and hopefully bring Kali Dye into custody. 

They did.

All four kids were now safely reunited with their parents and Kali had been arrested and hopefully was going to get the help she needed.

Since you hadn’t been there, JJ had filled you in afterwards when everybody had gotten back. You were sitting next to one another in the briefing room, talking, while everything settled down. 

Kali Dye had been so distraught over the loss and destruction of her nannying career. Apparently at one point, she had been a wonderful nanny. What had happened with Daisy, truly was an accident. Whether she had had a mental breakdown or suffered from an unknown or untreated mental illness beforehand, they didn’t know. But she soon became desperate to prove she was a good nanny.

She kidnapped Daisy first, to prove her point. Then three other children that she’d followed, learning their schedules. 

She had taken good care of them, at least in her mind. In reality, she hadn’t hurt them or touched them one bit. She fed them, gave them all attention and all the toys they wanted, to play with.

It was a sad situation, really. But you were glad that the families had a happy ending and their children were back safely in their homes tonight.

“You did good little sis,” JJ smiled, “Keep it up and you may just have to think about switching careers.”

“No thanks,” you chuckled, “I’m happy teaching kids, not seeing them in life threatening situations. I don’t have the heart for that.”

“Spence said you did really well getting Eden to open up,” she said.

“I’m surprised he actually knows how to compliment a person, let alone me,” you scoffed.

“Y/N. Come on. What’s your deal with him? This has been going on for years now.”

“I don’t know. I just can’t stand him.”

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” JJ said, “He’s a good guy. Besides, you used to have a crush on him when you were younger.”

“Ew, did I?” 

You wrinkled your nose, trying to remember. JJ had joined the BAU when you were only 14. A lot had happened in high school, let alone the 15 years since she’d first joined. You didn’t visit her very often because of school and all of your other extracurricular activities, so you hadn’t met the team until about a year after she started.

“You don’t mean the summer after my freshman year, do you?” you asked, “Cause back then he was a cute little dweeb and it lasted like two seconds anyway. I had a case of raging hormones to the point I had a crush on just about anything male with two legs.”

You rolled your eyes, disgusted at the fact she’d even think that you’d have a crush on Spencer. Although deep down, deep, deep, deep down, a little part of you knew that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“Why do you hate him though? He’s my best friend. I love him and I want you two to get along.”

You snorted.

“Yeah, I know you love him. Remember, you told me that you told him that you’ve always loved him? That he was your first love?”

You bit your lip, trying hard to keep the jealous edge out of your tone. This is what you’d tried hard to avoid all these years. You hated that you felt like this but you’d been covering up your true feelings for him and the situation, with anger all these years. If you kept yourself at a distance, you were less likely to get hurt.

How wrong you were.

“Is that what this is about? Because I told Spence I loved him?”

“No.”

Maybe.

“Y/N.”

She gave you the same look that your mother had given you in the elevator just days before.

“Jeez, you’ve got mom’s “look” down pat,” you mumbled.

“Please tell me the truth. Is my confession why you hate him?”

Her eyes pleaded with you and you couldn’t help but cave. She was your sister and your best friend and you knew she cared.

“No. I don’t know, maybe partially. But I disliked him way before that anyway. He’s just a know-it-all smartass, that annoys the shit out of me and is just like every other guy to fall head over heels in love with Jennifer Jareau.”

You grimaced, “For a guy that has an IQ of 187, he sure doesn’t know how to be different from other guys.”

“Okay hold up,” JJ held up her hands, “First of all, he is not head over heels in love with me.”

“JJ, please. You’re not an idiot.”

“I’m serious. He may have been once, but he’s not anymore. We’re best friends and that’s it. Besides, we worked out that mess over a year ago. He’s even dated since then.”

“The kid actually dates? I’m shocked,” you said, putting a hand on your chest in mock surprise.

JJ ignored your antics, continuing on.

“Second. He’s actually a really great guy, Y/N. He’s a real sweetheart, really. It’s just a side of him that you don’t see.”

“Yeah like the dark side of the moon,” you muttered.

“Just give him a chance and try to be nice? You know what mom always said. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Besides, if you want to go for him, that’s fine.”

You laughed outright at that. As if that would happen.

“On that note, I think I’m gonna head back to your place,” you said standing.

“I have to stay a little later to finish up some work. Can you get home okay on your own?”

You assured her you could and you grabbed your purse. 

“Y/N?” she called, as you were about to the glass doors.

“Yeah?” 

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

•

If you thought you were gonna get a reprieve after that uncomfortable conversation, you were sorely mistaken.

The moment you stepped out of the BAU, you saw Spencer standing, waiting for the elevator, his hands clutching the strap of his tan satchel as he waited.

“Ah, there she is. The woman who saved the day,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Fuck off Reid. I’m not in the mood.”

“You know, I’m actually shocked that you’re good at something besides bitching.”

You ignored him, your teeth clenching.

“I’m surprised you held your tongue as long as you did earlier. Bet that’s a record for you.”

The elevator doors opened and you got on without a word, Spencer following you.

“What? No comebacks? Amazing. Has Spencer Reid actually won for once?”

You whirled on him, dropping your purse to the elevator floor in the process.

“No because you’re full of shit. You’re the most annoying, stubborn ass, infuriating, egocentric, smart aleck in a fancy suit I’ve ever met!”

His eyes narrowed and his mouth hardened. He pulled his satchel over his head, dropping it too, to the floor. He pushed the emergency button of the elevator with such anger, it was amazing that he didn’t break it. The elevator suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” you screeched.

Your body was thrumming with anger. You could and likely would pummel him at any second.

“You’re not leaving this elevator until you tell me what the fuck your problem is,” Spencer glared.

“My problem?” you huffed.

“Yes because I have to deal with you jumping down my throat every single time I see you. You’re the most stuck up, spoiled, self centered, bitchy little brat I’ve had to deal with!”

“Ha! You sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

“You know what I think your problem is?” he challenged.

“Go ahead, try me. I’d love to hear.”

“I think, you don’t know how to deal with how you’re really feeling. So you hide it under anger. You lash out every time your feelings threaten to surface. It’s become a defense mechanism. It’s all you know. You fight with me because it’s the only way to protect yourself; you throw words as your daggers. Simply because you can’t get me out of your mind. I push you to limits you don’t want to think about. You may swear and declare that you hate me but in reality, you’d be thrilled if I took you right up against this elevator wall.”

His voice grew deeper with every word that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you profiling me? Cause that’s one hell of a reach.”

“Is it though? You wanna know how I figure that? You told me the other day that I met my match. That I can’t help but fight with you because you get under my skin. Well you were right. I do enjoy it and I think you do too. Because it turns you on. It does the same thing to me. You get under my skin yet at the same time all I can think about is how I want to fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“You think I’m gonna fall for that shit from just another guy who’s crazy about JJ?” you sneered.

For the first time, he actually looked just the tiniest bit surprised.

“You think I have feelings for JJ? If I had feelings for her, do you honestly think I’d spend all my time and attention on you?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“JJ isn’t the one that occupies my brain, no matter what I try to do, Y/N,” he said through gritted teeth.

His face was mere inches away from yours now. Close enough to see an array of scattered freckles on his face. A few under one eye, a tiny one on the side of his nose, one on his forehead.

His stubble had gotten heavier in the last few days, becoming more scruff than stubble. His lips were naturally plump, an asset that would be the envy of any woman. They were also a natural shade of dark pink, maybe even leaning towards red. 

Anger heated his eyes. Or was it desire? You wondered if you looked the same way. Right now, they looked more green in the brighter light in the elevator, but you could still see rings of brown around the edges of his eyes. They were also filled with mischief as if he were up for a challenge.

“You really think you’re going to distract me by putting your tongue in my mouth and getting my panties wet?” you hissed.

“Is that what you want?” 

A smirk formed on his lips. He was definitely challenging you.

Your legs were trembling now. Although if you were to admit it, you weren’t entirely sure if it was from anger or arousal.

You pressed your lips together, refusing to say anything, almost afraid what would come out of your mouth. He had you cornered up against the wall now.

“Maybe I should just find out for myself,” he said, propping his hands on either side of the wall by your head, “Make you moan in my mouth while I finger you.”

The anger that was coursing your veins earlier had definitely now turned into desire. Your stomach churned with it. You could feel his body mere inches from yours and the heat from it was making your entire body temperature feel that much higher.

“It’s not like I haven’t imagined making you moan my name,” he whispered, his voice gravelly, his tongue moving out over his lips in a quick swipe.

Your breathing had become shallow and you were throbbing with need. Before you could think of what you were doing, you were already unbuttoning your jeans.

“For once in your life I wish you’d shut up and just do it,” you grunted.

He grabbed your face roughly with both hands, his lips colliding with yours. They were hot and rough against yours, this kiss so hungry and animalistic that it was unreal.

His body was pressed against yours as he pressed you against the cool, metal wall. You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh and you unwittingly moaned into his mouth. You had a difficult time wrapping your head around the fact that you’d gotten him so hard.

Then again, you were having a hard time wrapping your mind around anything that didn’t involve him.

His tongue moved with yours, ironically increasing your desire, making you wetter. Just like you’d voiced earlier. Damn, the guy sure knew what he was doing.

He pulled your jeans roughly down your legs until they were enough out of the way that he was satisfied. His lips attacked your jaw, then neck, being anything but gentle, but it was working you up more than anything.

Your hands gripped his arms, your teeth bearing down into your bottom lip, resisting the urge to give in to what he wanted: hearing you moan.

He pulled away from you making you suddenly desperate for his lips on your skin again. He pried your hands away from him and held them against the wall, his hips pressing into yours.

His suit pants were a lot thinner than your jeans, so you could feel his erection pressing into you, dangerously close to your throbbing core where all of a sudden, you wanted him the most.

Spencer’s fingers ghosted over the fabric of your underwear, causing you to inhale sharply. It felt good and you wanted more.

You reached for his hand, trying to push it against your core, but he pulled it away, shaking his head.

“No. This is all you’re getting until you admit it.”

His finger trailed up the center of your panties, having just enough pressure to slightly feel his touch. You groaned at his teasing. If your past years of banter had been foreplay then you were more than ready for him to have you.

“Admit what?”

“That you want this,” Spencer stated simply.

His fingertip swirled lightly over the fabric, just above your clit. Light enough that you didn’t get any real friction from the touch and you bucked your hips, desperate to feel it.

“I think it’s fucking obvious,” you said through clenched teeth.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

His smirk was wolfish. You knew he wasn’t going to give in unless you did what he said.

“I want this,” you groaned.

“What’s that?” he tipped his head to the side, “Can’t hear you.”

“I want this,” you said, a notch louder, gripping his wrist.

“This?”

His fingers dipped into your underwear and his thumb pressed hard against your clit.

“Ah, fuck yes,” you moaned.

He grinned, his finger dipping into your wet warmth.

“Seems like my tongue in your mouth did indeed make you wet,” he chuckled lowly, pulling your underwear off with his other hand.

His fingers teased you as you writhed and moaned, clawing at the elevator wall behind you. He had this amazing way of rubbing his knuckles against your walls as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

“Holy shit, fuck Spencer,” you whined.

You were so turned on, you hardly had any recognition of what was tumbling out of your mouth. It sure seemed to please Spencer, though.

He kept you on your toes though, slowing his fingers just when you thought you were reaching the brink of your orgasm, twisting them so gradually, it was almost painfully pleasant. You swore your eyes almost rolled back in your head when his fingers curled inward in his direction, catching that sweet spot at just the right angle.

He was kissing you as you moaned appreciatively in his mouth. His hands were quite literally magical.

His fingers finally sped up, his thumb focusing all its attention on your clit. You could feel your release quickly approaching and you were ready to succumb to it. You wanted Spencer Reid to make you cum so hard you’d be begging for more.

He did just that.

Your high hit you as you released on his fingers. Your eyes screwed shut, your head banging against the wall. You actually think you stopped breathing for a short second before air rushed back into your lungs and you released a long moan.

“Oh my god, Spencer,” you groaned, reaching for the waistband of his pants.

He’d given you one hell of an orgasm and here you were, ready to beg for more. Especially if they came while he was buried to the hilt inside you.

“That was hot as hell,” he muttered, kissing you again, “It’s sexy seeing you spend all your energy on an orgasm instead of yelling at me. It’s healthier for your body, too.”

He smirked, his teeth pulling on your lower lip gently before pulling away. His hands were working with yours to push his pants down and his boxers too.

“Are you willing to admit you want me to fuck you against this wall now?” he growled.

“Yes, yes. Fuck yes, please.”

Man, if he wanted you to be his bitch ages ago, he probably should’ve just fucked you. One orgasm at his hands and you had turned into a writhing, begging and moaning heap.

But still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he could make you feel so good with his hands, that it would most likely be ten times as amazing with his dick.

He lifted you up, holding you against the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretching in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time and you couldn’t hold it back; a long, low moan of gratification left your lips.You hated to admit it, but he felt fucking fantastic inside of you.

By his own confirming groan, you could tell he felt the same way as you. At the back of your mind you couldn’t help but wonder why this hadn’t happened years ago. 

His hips rocked against yours, slowly at first as his mouth found yours. He was as ravenous for you as you were for him. 

Your fingers dug into his back as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was quite literally fucking you into this metal wall and you were loving every second of it.

Your emitted moans were coming every few seconds with every slap of your skin against his. His own grunts and groans came from deep in his throat, making you even hotter.

“S-Spencer,” you stuttered, pulling his face back to yours.

You have him a brief kiss before smirking up at him.

“I’m the spoiled little brat that’s got you moaning like a little bitch,” you panted.

Your words made him groan as he gripped your sides. He must have excellent control because he managed to get a hold of himself, slowing his hips to where he was tantalizingly pulling out of you and pushing back in.

“Still hate me, Y/N?”

“Right now, yes,” you groaned, trying to pull him deeper within you, wanting the previous speed and depth back.

“Now?”

“Ye- ahhh,” a breathy moan came from you as he resumed his harsher and faster thrusts.

“I don’t hate you,” you groaned, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

Maybe voiced thoughts during sex were the truth because you actually didn’t hate him. Especially right now.

“Fuck, Y/N, yes baby,” he groaned.

He was close to his peak, you could tell. His fingers were on your clit, circling furiously. He was going to make sure you got your orgasm, before he got his. Who knew he was actually so decent?

Your whimpers, moans and groans were rising in pitch. You halfway hoped no one could hear, but at the same time didn’t care. Let the whole building hear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Spencer, I’m coming, I’m-”

With that, the coil of pleasure that had been building up snapped like a broken rubber band, shooting through your entire body. 

You may have screeched too, you’re not entirely sure. You were completely lost to the bliss of your orgasm and even more so when he came apart not long after you. If you had thought he was attractive before, he was a hundred times more sexy when he was orgasming above you, all caused by you.

Your movements slowed, your chests both heaving. He held onto you carefully, as if he was afraid to set you down just yet. Probably a good idea considering you felt like you’d lost all function in your legs.

You laughed incredulously, unable to believe what had just happened. That had simultaneously been the craziest yet hottest thing you’d ever done.

Spencer’s smirk was replaced with a more shy, happy smile. It was a better look than the scowl he’d worn for you for so long.

It was like the moment that first orgasm hit you, all the anger, all the hatred, all the negative feelings you’d felt towards him drained from your body. You didn’t have the willpower or the desire to hate him anymore. Not that you ever really had.

“I meant what I said,” you said quietly.

“What’s that? You said a lot of things,” he chuckled.

“That I don’t hate you.”

He took a few moments in silence, parting from you and gently setting your feet on the floor again. He took his time getting decent again, as well. You worried at your bottom lip as you did the same, nervous that you’d said the wrong thing.

“So I was right? About the defensive mechanism and everything?”

“Yeah,” you nodded somberly, “I horribly misjudged you; thinking you were stuck up, full of yourself, better than anyone else, the kind of guy that was like all the others and in love with my sister.”

“If anything, I would think what just happened would prove more than anything that my sights are set on you.”

He had a point.

“Why did you hate me though?”

“I was thrown off by your reaction to me. I thought you were a self entitled, spoiled brat and that you thought you were better than me. Seems like we both vastly misjudged one another.”

“It’s kinda a good thing though,” you said.

Spencer looked at you, baffled.

“It is?”

“Well yeah, cause if none of that happened then that wouldn’t have happened either,” you gestured to the place where moments before the two of you had been a tangle of limbs.

“Good point,” he chuckled.

“Uh, Spencer?”

“Hmm?” he looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“You might want to get the elevator moving again.”

“Oh! Right.”

He laughed, hitting the emergency button to restart the elevator.

“I apologize for giving you so much grief though. I’d do anything to make it up to you,” you said.

“How about letting me take you out then? You’re still here for a few more days, aren’t you?” he asked.

You smiled.

“I think I can make all the time in my schedule for you, Spencer.”

His answering smile was enough to make you smile in return.

Oddly enough, the elevator had gone down and back up without stopping, returning to the floor the BAU was on.

“That’s weird,” Spencer mumbled.

The doors parted to JJ waiting to get on.

“Hey, what are you guys still doing here? I thought you left an hour ago.”

Huh, so it’d been an hour. 

She got on the elevator, standing between the two of you.

“Elevator issues,” Spencer answered, before you could think of what to say.

“So you’ve been stuck in the elevator together this entire time?” JJ asked.

“Yup,” you answered.

“I guess it’s a miracle you two didn’t tear each other apart then,” she muttered, hitting the button for the ground floor.

Yeah, there might’ve been some tearing involved.

Behind her back, you and Spencer shared a secret smile.

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[jackson--t]

Hi ! I hope you're doing well. I've had an idea for a one shot and though I could write it myself I don't think it could ever come out as beautiful as if you would write it so here it is.

I was thinking of Ivar and Heahmund as a couple. They haven't really had to spend too much time away from each other because whenever ine traveled with work the other would come along so maybe this time Ivar has to go alone because it's urgent and Heahmund can't come along cause he's stuck at work and unable to take a few days off. I was thinking Ivar would be so homesick. Like unable to sleep and stuff. And though he would have had to spend around a week away he won't be able to stay away for so long and return 3 days later and surprises Heahmund and they cuddle q lot and Ivar barely let's Heahmund go anywhere because he's touch starved.

You don't have to write it. It's just an idea but if you fancy it and want to I would feel honored to have my idea written by you and also very happy. Thank you ! Love ya!

Hello my dear, and I feel so honored that you want me to write this idea of yours! ❤️ As I already told you, it was a huge pleasure for me as I can identify myself with that situation very well, and I really hope that you like what I wrote and it turned maybe a little bit out the way you wanted it. Thank you so much! ❤️

Three days

Words: ~ 3k.

It's all pure fluff and stuff, and a bit of missing, obviously. xD

Ivar clenched his hand lightly around Heahmund's; he had been afraid, damned afraid of this day that was coming anyway - and it had just been there far too quickly, far too fleetingly, and most of all - far too hard.

He could feel Heahmund squeezing his hand a little tighter as well, but the big man only smiled slightly, while Ivar could already feel the tears in his eyes.

"I can't do that, no. I'd rather be out of a job." he snarled tensely, while Heahmund let out a soft snort. They had arrived at the final departure lounge, where he would soon be leaving - and where Ivar would have to say a final goodbye to Heahmund.

They had been a couple for maybe two years, had been through many ups and downs together - but they had never been apart for long. The longest they had spent without each other was one day. And that was only because Ivar had been far too offended at the time and had missed his bus when he had changed his mind after all. In that night, Ivar had sworn to himself that he would never again spend even one night apart from Heahmund - which had generally worked out well. When one of the two had to travel, they had taken each other with them. One had taken time off, the other was working; in this way they had been able to discover many places together. But this time it had been different. Since Heahmund had an important job to do, he couldn't take time off - just when Ivar had to fly away for a week for his job.

It was the first time Ivar had seriously considered just quitting; it was one thing to go to work and have your partner back in bed with you in the evening; but something completely different to have to go to sleep without him. The thought of it sent deep goosebumps down Ivar's body, and he sighed deeply.

"Honey, you're hurting me. It's only a week.", Heahmund said in a relaxed manner, trying to lightly release his hand from the clamp-like grip of Ivar's warm fingers; however, Ivar shook his head. Breathe in, breathe out, he told himself; but his eyes betrayed him. It wasn't really a tear that ran lightly from the corner of his eye, but Heahmund saw it anyway.

He made a soft clicking sound with his tongue and wrapped his arms tightly around the middle of Ivar's body; Ivar buried his face deep in Heahmund's black jacket, breathing in deeply the smell of his boyfriend. God, how he would miss him. Already his body felt drained, and his heart area became terribly heavy.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Heahmund. What are you going to do without me? Who's going to cook for you? And don't you dare meet anyone else.", Ivar mumbled dully into Heahmund's jacket, and he wrapped his arms tighter around Heahmund as he laughed softly and melodically.

"Babe, I'm not seeing anyone else. And besides, I'll probably survive a week without you! What are delivery services for, huh?" Heahmund replied, lifting Ivar's chin with a slight movement; Ivar blinked.

"Still. I should stay here." he grumbled, and Heahmund laughed softly.

"I have something for you that will comfort you a little. I know you always claim you don't like these things and are too old for them - but you always hug your bear very fiercely for that when I come home at night. That's why...", Heahmund said and pulled something out of his jacket pocket; it was a small stuffed animal, a small, soft hyena, wearing a dark blue ribbon around its neck. Ivar had to swallow; he took the stuffed animal carefully in his hands and then blinked very gently up at Heahmund, who looked at him with a smile.

"A hyena! You remember I was particularly fond of those?" he murmured softly, and Heahmund nodded as his hand went lightly to the back of Ivar's neck.

"Sure. You took about 200 pictures, and you kept stressing how much you'd like one yourself, and that you'd keep it in the bedroom."

"In the bathroom, so it could have a tub!"

"Of course!" Heahmund snorted in amusement; through the hall came the distinct and final call for Ivar's Gate, and the voice again sent a terrible shiver down Ivar's spine. He pressed himself as tightly as he could against Heahmund and sobbed slightly; Heahmund's warm fingers stroked through his hair, which for once he had not braided today, and which was just wildly disheveled. Who else was he going to make himself pretty for when his future husband wasn't around?

"Shhht, it's going to be okay, Ivar. You have to go now.", Heahmund said softly; Ivar knew it was time, but he found it extremely difficult to let go of the warm and familiar body and the familiar, beloved smell.

They kissed firmly and as long as they could; before Heahmund softly broke the kiss and smiled at Ivar once more. "You call me as soon as you land, okay? And no cell phone on the plane!" he said with a wink, and Ivar rolled his eyes.

He wiped away the last of his tears and hugged the hyena tightly before shuffling towards his gate with infinitely heavy feet. He looked after Heahmund for as long as he could - and when his dearly beloved guy disappeared behind him, the whole feeling in his body became really crushing. He tried to calm himself down the aisles to the plane and not show his tears - which worked well as long as he kept chewing his lower lip and answering all questions from stewardesses and staff only with a dull nod.

But it wasn't until he was sitting in his seat on the plane that all his emotions suddenly came rushing up - especially when he put the little hyena down on his lap and squeezed it tightly. He knew it was Heahmund's way of letting him know he was there - but the takeoff still sucked. Normally, during airplane takeoffs, Ivar always held Heahmund's hand, and always huddled slightly against Heahmund's shoulder out of fear; now that he wasn't there, the plane takeoff was a thousand times worse for Ivar.

The flight itself went by quickly, it was also only two hours. But the first day in his seminar from work was not great. Ivar found it awful to keep in touch with Heahmund only through his cell phone. Every two minutes he glanced at the screen, waiting to receive another heart, or an "I love you, I miss you." He knew Heahmund was working, too - but his inner, offended side most wanted Heahmund to text him every second.

The distraction of the seminar made the day go by quickly, even though Ivar shut down easily; he barely listened, and when he fell into his bed at night, all the fierce violence of missing him came crashing down. It took him a few seconds, a few seconds and his little hyena, before he could breathe reasonably again and pull out his cell phone to call Heahmund.

"Hey, little guy. Are you okay?" Heahmund said; he sounded tired and exhausted, but tears immediately started to flow on Ivar's face.

"I want to go home, I don't feel like it anymore! I'm homesick as hell, and I already know I can't sleep in this shitty bed! Heahmund, come get me. You can work from here too!" Ivar grumbled, sniffling as Heahmund laughed softly.

"Babe, you know I can't do that. I've really had a lot of conversations today, and I'm really, really knackered. I'm about to go to sleep too."

"You sound really tired too. But still... How am I supposed to sleep without you?" Ivar whined softly as Heahmund tossed and turned, Ivar heard it clearly. "And you're not supposed to sleep on the couch, Heahmund."

"I'm about to go to bed. Are you stalking me?"

"No, but I know our couch." Ivar said, smiling slightly; although tears were running slightly from his eyes, he could not hide the smile. He hugged the hyena a little more to his chest, imagining for a moment that it was Heahmund's warm hand; it helped a little.

"You are unique, at least your ears are. Which, after all, only hear what they want to hear. I miss you, Ivar."

Ivar swallowed hard. "I miss you too."

"We can talk on the phone with video tomorrow, I'm really too tired today."

"All right. Sleep well, and don't touch yourself too much! I want the full load when I get back.", Ivar grinned slightly, and he heard Heahmund snort exactly: it was the snort that Ivar knew quite well he was imagining him naked, with Ivar lying underneath him, moaning and whimpering.

"Of course. The same goes for you. I want you trembling and fucking starved with me," Heahmund replied; "...I love you. If there's anything, get in touch!"

"I love you, too. Will do."

As soon as he hung up, Ivar's heart grew heavy again, terribly heavy. He felt like there was a heavy weight on his chest, almost crushing him. It was such a sickening feeling to be lying alone in this bed, so many miles from Heahmund.

"You're 20, you can do it," Ivar whispered to himself as he tucked himself in and snuggled comfortably. But no matter what he did, he couldn't sleep.

His thoughts kept circling around Heahmund, and his body and soul missed the man next to him just terribly. Ivar had the feeling that his body was in severe withdrawal, that he simply needed Heahmund to function at all. He remembered the smell, the so familiar smell of Heahmund's neck and chin as they lay over Ivar's head, taking him in; he remembered his fingers always sliding over Heahmund's chest, sometimes on shaved, smooth, skin, sometimes on something hairier... but either way, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world to sleep in Heahmund's warm embrace.

For as long as Ivar could remember, he had always slept with his head on Heahmund's chest or shoulder; he couldn't think of an evening when they hadn't somehow fallen asleep without physical contact. Even on the hottest summer nights, Ivar would always curl up against Heahmund's back like a little hedgehog, holding at least his one arm, no matter how much Heahmund grumbled in his half-sleep.

It was simply his means of falling asleep, of waking up, of feeling good all around. But now, so alone in this hotel room, he felt completely lost and abandoned. The pain after Heahmund's closeness was so gravely real that Ivar found it difficult to breathe normally at all; again and again small sobs interrupted his breathing, and he pressed the hyena very tightly against him; unfortunately, it no longer bore any traces of Heahmund's scent, and only now did Ivar remember that he had forgotten to pack a worn shirt of Heahmund's - and it was so bad for him in those seconds that he burst into sheer tears, which only subsided when he eventually fell asleep from exhaustion.

The next two days were an absolute nightmare for Ivar. He didn't want to and couldn't eat anything, hardly felt like doing anything with the others even though the weather was wonderful - and he cried so terribly after every phone call with Heahmund that he always had to calm down before he could do anything else.

This feeling didn't go away either, and it got worse. This terrible feeling that a very primary part of him was missing, that his better and more beautiful half was simply missing. This missing squeezed all the nice feelings out of him and took over almost his entire daily life - so much so, that on the third day he was fed up and pretended to be sick so he could fly home.

He didn't tell Heahmund about all the action, because he would have just said, "You can't do that," and put on his dad look, along with his glasses, which he needed to work. But Ivar didn't care what he would think; he wrote to a work colleague of Heahmund's beforehand and asked her if he was in the office - when she answered in the affirmative, Ivar decided that he would wait for him at home as a surprise.

It was like a warm hug when Ivar unlocked the door to their apartment and smelled the scent of Heahmund still in the air; his heart was still burning, and he could hardly breathe with excitement - but finally he was home again.

Ivar felt a little bad that he had lasted such a short time and had only managed three days without Heahmund. But he knew that he would not have been able to stand it any other way, and no matter what Heahmund would say - he would just be glad to hold the man in his arms again. It would take away all the pain, and finally the endless burdensome pressure from his chest.

As he wandered through the apartment and looked around, he discovered slight chaos in some corners; but he was not angry. Rather, he smiled from the bottom of his heart, because he saw exactly that Heahmund seemed to need him in everyday life as much as Ivar needed him. As he was already unpacking his suitcase in the bedroom, he discovered the photo album of all their travels on Heahmund's bedside table; it was still open, and Ivar carefully took the book in his hands.

It showed a page with four pictures where they had been together in Egypt; there were pyramids in the background, and Ivar kissed Heahmund on the cheek while the older man grabbed his butt. It was a wonderful photo, and Ivar had to hold back his tears hard. It touched him more than anything that Heahmund had apparently looked at these pictures, even though he had seemed so tough on the phone. It was a moment that was so precious to Ivar - even though it was just a small, hidden detail in their otherwise great relationship.

As the evening approached, Ivar had almost prepared Heahmund's favorite meal; he had placed the little hyena in the hallway so that it would be the first thing the older man would see when he came into the apartment. And indeed - after a little while Ivar heard the lock of the door open, and someone standing in the hallway, puzzled. For a moment, nothing was heard - Ivar bit his lower lip in gleeful excitement before quietly sneaking around the corner of the hallway. He lurked around the corner and saw Heahmund perplexedly picking up the hyena and eyeing it in his hand, and once he had his eyes on this beautiful man, Ivar could wait no longer.

He jumped around the corner and threw himself into Heahmund's arms; the older man was a little startled, but he caught Ivar effortlessly and immediately took him deep and tight in his arms. He even lifted him up slightly with the embrace, and Ivar smiled broadly as Heahmund kissed him breathlessly, demanding.

"Oh fuck, I missed you so much, my little burglar." he murmured against Ivar's cheek, and Ivar took his face in both hands and kissed him again, firmly and intimately. Although tears were running down his cheek, he finally let go of that terribly heavy feeling of missing him, and he could finally breathe freely again. His arms wrapped around Heahmund's neck as tightly as he could, and the older man held him effortlessly in his strong arms.

"I escaped." Ivar admitted dryly, and Heahmund laughed softly.

"How did you do that again, huh?"

"I said I was too sick, and I just flew. Heahmund, I couldn't go on without you, I'm so damn starved and it hurt so much and... oh, the food!", Ivar groaned and pressed one last kiss on Heahmund before breaking free from the hug and running to the kitchen.

They spent a wonderful dinner together, and Ivar talked an incredible amount, though he didn't actually catch that much; but he was immensely satisfied when he was finally able to lie down in Heahmund's arms in the evening, and the older man pulled him into an intimate embrace on the sofa.

Ivar inhaled the smell of Heahmund deeply and firmly and swore to himself that he would never let him go - at most when he had to go to the bathroom. But that was it. Far too much had he missed the pressure of strong arms around him, and didn't want to be left alone for another minute.

When Heahmund wanted to get something to snack on from the kitchen, Ivar grumbled; but he clung with his arms around Heahmund's broad shoulders and let himself be carried like a little monkey all the way to the kitchen, where Heahmund finally had to laugh.

"What are you doing, huh? Are you my little spider monkey again?" he said, amused, and pushed Ivar onto the kitchen table; Ivar chuckled lightly and wrapped his arms around Heahmund again, even though he actually wanted to go to the freezer to get some ice cream. But Ivar kept a tight grip on him, and additionally clamped his legs around Heahmund's hips.

The big man raised an eyebrow, slightly enraptured, and leaned down to Ivar; they kissed intimately, and Ivar felt Heahmund's warm hands slide under his shirt with a slight pleasant hum.

"Are you a little starved?" he murmured softly, and slowly began kissing Ivar's sensitive right side of his neck; a thousand butterflies raced through Ivar's body, and he opened his full lips slightly to let out a soft moan.

"Yes - starved for touch. After all, we have three days to make up, my big guy."

Heahmund's eyebrow rose again in rapture, and not a second passed before the two strong arms had Ivar firmly in their grasp once more, and they were kissing fiercely. And even as Heahmund pulled his shirt over his head in one fluid motion, he knew for sure that he never wanted to be without this man for even one more day. Fuck the job - he didn't need money.

He just needed the full love and absolute closeness of this incredible man with him, forever.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

@youbloodymadgenius @jadelynlace @punkrocknpearls (Uh, I don't remember if it was you who wanted to be tagged in stuff like this? xD Otherwise, I'm so sorry! <3)

#vikings #request #fluff #heavar #ivar x heahmund

[youknow-igetit]

i’ve always had the headcanon that neil learns how to pole dance and dan helps teach him and i saw someone else post something similar to it (iconic of them, really) and it made me want to elaborate on my hc

some days, neil wakes up and he can’t stand looking in the mirror

he look in the mirror and despite the scars on his face and hands and the vibrant orange hoodie and the chipped nail polish on his hands, all he sees is his father’s eyes and hair and cold smile

so he usually finds himself at the gym building, blasting music in his ears and facing away from the wall of mirrors as he purposefully overworks himself so he’s too exhausted to care about the cold smile that he knows well

either that or he’s in the basement, hitting a punching bag with taped knuckles and pretending that the canvas is his father’s face, lola’s, romero’s, sometimes even his mother’s

one morning he wakes up at four with the phantom pains of hundreds of knives wracking his body

he can’t go back to sleep, so he heads to the gym and picks the lock to the basement

he’s so caught up in his own head that he walks right past the room full of punching bags and opens the door next to it

despite it being in the basement, the room has the same high ceilings as the upper floors, maybe twenty or twenty five feet

there’s no equipment that neil can see in the dark room, nothing except for the mats covering the floor and four vertical poles bolted to the floor and ceiling

he’s confused at first but then... oh

he’d obviously heard of pole dancing as a sport, he remembered seeing the words on the gym directory

but actually seeing the poles, he was kind of intrigued

but he backed out and went into the right room and ran himself down, and despite heaving on the floor, he felt like he could finally breathe

he was exhausted by the time the exy team started trickling into the main gym to do their workouts, but he honestly didn’t care about the stern talking-to kevin was attempting to administer

over the next week, inexplicably, neil’s mind kept going back to the room with the poles. he found himself watching pole dancing competition videos and tutorials and reading articles on different products that help to stay on the pole

on another one of Those Days, he finds himself purposefully breezing right past the boxing room and opening the door to the pole dancing room

he turns on the light, which is still dim, and walks nervously up to the pole in the far right corner

he’s bad at first. not as bad as he thought he’d be, but still bad. youtube isnt exactly the best coach

but he comes back the next day. and the next. and it eventually becomes a regular thing as he becomes better at it. sometimes, when his school workload isn’t heavy, he spends his free periods between classes practicing.

he never sees anyone else there, no matter what time, and he likes it that way. he gets more confident in himself, eventually ending up stripping down to just his briefs as he learns new moves

he doesn’t tell anyone about it. it’s not that he’s ashamed, but the idea of the ex-mafia kid exy player spending his free time pole dancing? it was a little embarrassing

like andrew knows in general where he is at those times but he doesn’t know/care what neil’s doing there. he guesses its just more things to do with exy

and kevin is suspicious but when is he not

but all in all no one finds out

until

one day it’s like three pm and he had the most annoying argument with the TA and he’s still pissed as he descends the stairs to the basement of the gym, just wanting to dance and blow off some steam

he bursts through the door and stops abruptly as the person whirls around

“dan?”

“neil?”

they both kind of just stand there for a moment before neil’s like “sorry, i was--uh, the boxing room is right next to this one and--”

“you were planning on boxing?”

“uh huh”

“in skinny jeans?” dan raised an unimpressed eyebrow

neil glanced down. he was wearing skinny jeans. “um.”

neil shifts nervously. “what are you doing here? nobody ever goes in here.”

“I was just--” dan pauses. “wait, this is where you’re going when you disappear?”

neil rubs the back of his neck. “kinda, yeah”

“kinda or definitely”

so neil tells her everything, about how he’s been going there for months and teaching himself how to dance and whatnot

dan is highkey impressed and asks him if he wants her to teach him anything

“what?”

“I used to be a stripper, neil.”

“oh. right.”

“no, you’re okay. it’s just... i kind of missed it. not the stripper part, but during the day, when the club was closed and my sisters were teaching me. it didn’t feel like it was for anyone. it was for me....it was liberating.”

neil nods. “i get that”

so dan ends up joining in on his practices more often than not

at first neil’s kinda uncomfortable being so physically exposed around someone that wasn’t andrew

but he finds a weird comfort with dan, both of them in just their undergarments swinging around on poles in a big empty room with music playing out of one of their phones

dan ends up teaching neil a bunch of moves she knows, like how to bend over upside-down and spin with just thighs

“and if you twist like this, it shows off your ass”

they also end up talking a lot, about random things, but dan also tells him a lot about her stage sisters and what her high school life was like and in turn neil ends up talking a bit about his life on the run

they also end up talking a lot about their relationships, like how dan learns that andrew likes to snuggle (dan is astounded) and neil learns that matt sleeps with his socks on (neil is apalled)

some of the foxes notice that dan has joined in with neil’s disappearances and she tells them that she’s teaching him “how to be a captain for you assholes. it’s hard fucking work, i’m giving him seminars about you little shits”

but one day matt comes up to neil during practice and he’s like “hey neil can i talk to you”

and neil’s like “you’re talking to me now”

“no i mean like later”

neil’s like ?? but he agrees

after practice everyone leaves the locker room except for matt

he nervously sits down on the bench so once neil’s done he hesitantly sits next to him

“what’s up?”

matt’s acting shifty and weird and isn’t look at neil’s face

“so um, i need you to be honest with me, okay? and i know you wouldn’t do this, but i’ve been having doubts and i just--” matt sighs. “is dan cheating on me with you?”

neil is... absolutely pissed

“what the fuck?!”

“i mean, like, you guys have been disappearing off on your own and then you come back sweaty and flushed--”

“we work out together”

“but she’s always smiling and content after!”

“i literally have a partner”

“that doesn’t stop a lot of people, neil”

“don’t you remember that i don’t swing? dan’s like my sister, matt” neil is surprised when he says it and finds that he’s being truthful. “dan loves you. she’d never hurt you like that. stop selling yourself short.”

matt nods and neil leaves

the next time dan and neil practice together, the next day, dan asks him about matt and neil tells her everything

“i think he’s just paranoid that you’re leaving at the end of the year” neil spins around and hooks his ankles around the pole

“yeah... i’ll talk to him” dan sighs and wraps an arm around the pole and hoists herself up a few inches

“if you’re fine with it, he can come to our next practice”

“you’re sure?” a few weeks ago, neil had told dan how insecure he was about his scars and they both enjoyed the privacy they had at the practice room

“yeah. it’s just matt”

they twirl around for a while, soft music playing from dan’s phone, the artist singing something about being sorry that she fell in love with someone while they were in a hotel room

“what about your boy?” dan asks

“what about him?”

“does he ever doubt you?”

neil shrugs, as well as he can while upside down “we trust each other”

dan thinks for a minute. “are you going to show andrew too?” dan motions to the room with her foot. “i’m fine with it if you are”

so later that day, back at the dorm, neil turns in his bean bag and asks andrew if he wants to come to his and dan’s next practice

andrew replies with a “not particularly”

“don’t you want to see what we do?”

“not really. you don’t ask me to watch renee and i spar.”

“yeah but that’s cause it your guys’ thing. also, dan and i definitely don’t spar”

“it’s still your thing.”

“i wouldn’t ask you to come if i didn’t want you to”

andrew looked at him before saying “you’re insufferable.” neil knew that meant he’d be there

so the next day finds dan and neil leading matt and andrew down their familiar basement path

andrew shows no reaction to the poles except for a quirk in his left eyebrow (neil knows he’s very surprised)

matt, on the other hand, says “this is what you guys have been doing?”

neil nods and takes his shirt and pants off, which leads to another shocked sound out of matt and another raised eyebrow from andrew. (that’s both raised eyebrows. neil’s never done that. he takes it as an achievement. andrew’s eyes tell him not to read too much into it. neil smirks)

andrew leans up against one of the untouched poles as neil talks to matt about liquid chalk as dan takes her own clothes off

matt sits down on the edge of a mat as they start practicing. after a few minutes neil almost forgets that there are two more people in the room than usual, the only giveaway being andrew’s sharp eyes never leaving him and matt’s amazed “ooh”s and “ahh”s

after the alarm on dan’s phone beeped to tell them that their hour and a half were up, matt stood up as the two stepped away from their poles

neil started pulling on his clothes as matt went “I--um--that’s--that was--”

neil picks up his bag and starts walking toward the door, knowing that andrew’s following

“don’t fuck near my pole” he calls, and he can hear dan laugh as he shuts the door

andrew is silent all the way to the dorm

later on the roof, he asks “why?”

neil sighs. “it makes my mind quiet. suspended like that, fifteen feet in the air, the only thing that’s keeping me from falling is me. it’s not like exy, where I have to rely on my teammates. It’s... it’s finding trust in my body.” he looks down at him scarred hands, at the one interlaced with andrew’s. “also my father would never pole dance. neither would my mom. god, she’d be so pissed.”

neil smiles

“what do you think about it?” neil asked as andrew took another drag on his cigarette

“it doesn’t matter what i think”

“it matters to me.”

“I hate you.”

“mmhm. don’t i know it.”

they were quiet as they watched the sun slowly dip over the horizon

“you’re more flexible than i thought”

“what’s that supposed to mean”

“it means i liked it. you are as confident at pole dancing as you are at playing exy.”

“are you telling me that you like when i play exy?”

“shut up. yes or no?” he flicks aside his cigarette at neil’s yes

a few days later, matt apologizes to neil for his assumptions. he ends up convincing neil and dan into entering a pole dancing competition that takes place a few weeks after the championship game

they end up winning third place

(the competition was recorded and put on youtube. neil’s proud. he catches andrew watching the video more than once)

(when kevin finds out about it he practically combusts and tells neil how bad it is for his exy career and what will pro teams think blah blah blah neil doesn’t care)

after dan graduates, neil and her keep up their practices through facetime

the next year they’re able to win first place

#can you tell that i'm fascinated by pole dancing?? #neil josten #dan wilds #matt boyd #andrew minyard #andreil #matt boyd x dan wilds #aftg #aftg hc #andreil hc #all for the game headcanon #pole dancing is so cool i want to know how to do it so badly #why do i have to live in a town of bigots?? #i just think its neat #Also the song I mentioned is 'is there somewhere' by halsey if anyone is interested in knowing #I love Matt but I also think that he's still insecure about being with an actual goddess #This has nothing to do with the post but I hc that Dan proposes to Matt

[irishseeeker]

                                              the story of us

summary:  Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.

--

chapter 1: if one thing had been different, would everything be different?

Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgerton meet at Oxford University.

They’re both studying law and business, and they’re in the same college of the many in their university. They have nearly identical schedules, which usually resulted in heated debates in most of their lectures. They’re partnered up for seminars for their first semester, which means an hour a week the two of them and a tutor spend an hour discussing readings, essays and of course, arguing further.

Oddly enough, after a month of arguing and bickering, they sort of become best friends.  

They lived in the same accommodation, a co-ed accommodation which Kate had thought was scandalous at first, but it ends up being amazing. They form a friend group in their course, and they all live together. It's sort of perfect, really. Kate had had friends in school, but she had never had a friendship group like this or a best friend like Anthony. For the first time, she felt like she truly belonged.

They still argued constantly, much to the amusement of their friends, but they also knew each other’s coffee orders and why he’s scared of bees and she’s scared of thunderstorms.

He’s the first boy-friend Kate has ever had, and she’s definitely his first platonic girl-friend as he seems to sleep with the rest of them.

They’re completely different, yet they understand each other. He’s a Bridgerton, an Oxford legacy with an actual title, and she’s a Sheffield from a small town in Somerset on a scholarship to Oxford. He went to Eton, she went to her local secondary school.

They spend their first year at university either in the library, in their rooms or drunk in a club or pub. Always together.

“So, you and Anthony,” Her friend, Anna, commented as they walked to class one chilly December day. Anthony was up ahead with some of the lads, the group of them laughing loudly and occasionally shoving each other. Kate had decided a while ago she would never fully understand the male species.

“Yes?” Kate asked, turning to raise an eyebrow at Anna. She knew what Anna was implying, it wasn’t the first time she had been asked about it and it was only December.

“You’re quite close,” She commented further, grinning at Kate as she opened up the Law building’s door.

“We’re good friends,” Kate shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat up. “That’s all.”

“The way he looks as you doesn’t seem that friendly to me,” said Anna, nudging Kate with her hip. Anna had long blonde hair, pale skin and a wide smile. She was also very petite. Kate was the opposite.

Kate was tall, around 5’10, which people oddly liked to to remind her about a lot. As if she wasn't aware of it. She was lucky she had never suffered from acne, bar the occasional stress spots, so her skin was clear and smooth. She had long, dark thick hair. It never stayed straight and was always knotted, so she usually just let it lie down her back. She had met the girls Anthony typically went for and she didn’t fit the picture.

Kate had long accepted that and wouldn't entertain the idea any further.

“He doesn’t look at me like anything,” Kate rolled her eyes, feeling her throat closing up slightly as they walked into their lecture hall and took a seat in the middle. “He saw me puke my guts out last week, so it’s fair to say he’s not looking at me like anything.”

She had gotten far too drunk on a night out last Thursday and she could still feel her hangover. It had been a particularly stressful day with a bad grade on an essay and a harsh feedback session from a tutor. She had embarrassingly burst into tears when Anthony had stopped by her room to go to dinner, and he held her as she cried and called their tutor a twat.

He then suggested they all go out. She had apparently danced on top of tables, attempted to take most of her clothes off (and was stopped from doing so) and then passed out. Anthony had carried her home. Not that she remembered anything, most of the night was a blur.

She was never drinking tequila again.

“He was the one holding your hair back,” Anna gave her a pointed look, raising her eyebrows. “I’m just saying, I think you two would be good together. Kate and Anthony has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

Before Kate could object, she felt someone appear sit down beside them. “Hey,” A voice appeared beside them and Kate nearly jumped, looking at Anthony. He was wearing a grey jumper and jeans, his nose red from the cold outside. “What are you talking about?”

“What we’re wearing to the Law ball,” Anna replied swiftly, and Kate let out a sigh of relief that her friend had stopped talking. The Law Ball was being held next weekend, just before the term ended for Christmas and all assignments were over.

“Oh,” Anthony said, taking out his laptop and logging into it. “Well, Kate, you should wear something that’s hard to get out of. I don’t think the law society will take kindly to one of its members stripping in the middle of the dancefloor.”

“Fuck off.” She elbowed him as Anna burst out laughing, and Anthony grins at her. She can’t help but laugh too even if she’s mortified.

After Christmas, when they’re back at university and exams are over, he teaches her how to drive. Mary, her step-mother and the only mother she’s ever had, never learned, and everything had been within walking distance back home. She had never had the chance to learn. She had got the train to university when she’d moved, and you walked everywhere. Anthony always had his car with him as he went home a lot to see his siblings and mother.

When he finds out she can’t drive, he insists on teaching her. “I’ve taught two of my siblings. Including Colin. If I can teach Colin, I can teach anyone.”

They’re about ten minutes into it before they start arguing.

Kate had never thought driving could be so stressful.

“Clutch!”

“I am clutching!” She shrieked, pushing the pedal forward as her ankles began to ache.

“Fuck me-brake, Kate!”

“Stop shouting at me!”

She pulls up the handbrake so hard she’s surprised she didn’t break it, and gets out of the car and refuses to get back in. They had gone to a retail park with a largely empty parking lot to practice in. He eventually convinces her to get back in the car, after apologizing numerous times, and he’s a lot nicer as she gets behind the wheel again.

Her birthday is in March, and he gets her driving lessons. They’re ridiculously expensive, and she initially refuses to accept them for a week. They argue about it, money has never been an object to him and it’s something she’s never had much of, so their perspectives are different.

She eventually accepts them and thanks him, after he insists for the twentieth time he didn’t mean it in any way other than to help her and so he would never have to teach her. She really wanted to be able to drive, to be able to afford a car eventually and drive home to Mary and Edwina more. She did warn him if he ever spent more than 20 pounds on her again, she’d murder him.

It’s the start of May when she passes her test, and he’s waiting for her outside the centre. He twirls her around as she runs towards him, shouting she’d passed, and they get McDonalds to celebrate. She thanks him for everything, and he shrugs it off because he’s Anthony. They do celebrate with their friends in the pub later that evening, and she gets very drunk, but their McDonalds that afternoon will hold a special place in her heart.

She’s beginning to think he always will, too.

Her dad’s memorial service is on a Sunday in June. It had been five years since he died, five years of missing him and him missing everything. Her graduating school, her getting into university, her first day at university. Kate planned to get the train back home for the day and get the last one back this evening. She had two exams on Friday and Saturday so she couldn’t have gone home earlier, and she couldn’t miss any of her tutorials or lectures tomorrow. A part of her was relieved, she didn’t want to stay at home. It was too sad and university was a good distraction.

It was far too early to be awake on a Sunday, it was 7am, but she had to be home before twelve for the service and the train was two hours.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the whatsapp messages that appeared on her screen.

Anthony: i’m outside

Kate raised an eyebrow at the text, grabbing her bag and heading downstairs, outside their accommodation. She walked out onto the road, eventually spotting him. “Anthony?”

“Hey,” He said, smiling at her. He was leaning against his car, his hands in his pockets. “We better hit the road. We’ll need to stop at a Starbucks drive through as well, I need caffeine.”

Kate stared at him, unsure of what to say or what was going on. He had been the person she had mentioned it to out of their friends, that she wouldn’t be around on Sunday. “What do you mean? I’m going to my dad’s service.”

“I know Kate,” He said softly, opening the passenger side door for her. “I figured I’d drive you. I don’t want you to be alone, so I thought I’d come. I know how hard today can be, so,” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, clearly very uncomfortable. “If it’s okay, that is. If you don’t want me to come, I can go.”

She stared at him. “Oh Anthony,” She half sobbed, completely breaking down and throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was probably the nicest thing someone had ever done for her. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed someone until she saw him in front of her. She squeezed him tightly, pushing the tears back that were brewing under her eyelids. “Thank you.”

She hadn’t had to ask, he was just there. That was Anthony Bridgerton.

“It’s okay,” He murmured, squeezing her back before she removed herself off him, half sniffling. Anthony had never handled emotional women well. “Let’s go? You have music privileges but if I hear one one direction song, they’re gone.”

“As if you don’t already know the lyrics and like them,” Kate teased, climbing into the car and putting on her seatbelt.

“I have three younger sisters,” He grumbled, flicking a glance at the rearview mirror as he pulled out onto the road. “Of course I know the lyrics.”

It’s a long and hard day, but she feels better when Mary, her stepmother, her mum, opens their front door and hugs her. Edwina squeals as she runs towards Kate, hugging her tightly.

“Hey guys,” Kate said, smiling as she stepped aside and gestured awkwardly to Anthony. “This is my friend from university, Anthony.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Anthony said, oddly formal as he extended his hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Mary said, smiling at Anthony as she gestured to them to come inside. “Come in! We can have some tea and biscuits before we head off.” She shot Kate an amused smile behind Anthony’s back, who was being lead into the kitchen by a chattering Edwina.

Kate ignored Mary, because she knew that look and there was no look needed. There was nothing going on between her and Anthony.

The memorial is long, and quite sad. Anthony puts his arm around Kate at one point, when she can’t hold her tears, silently streaming down her cheeks. There’s a small lunch at the local pub afterwards, which Kate spends mostly talking to old friends of her fathers and familiar faces she hadn’t seen since she had left for university.

Kate takes Anthony on a walk down the pier, where she spent most of her childhood hanging out with her friends. “I had my first kiss there,” She pointed at the edge of the pier where there were a few steps that led to the sea. “I had my first drink there as well. I remember how disgusted I was about how disgusting beer was. All that hype for it to taste like piss.”

Anthony snorted, licking his lips as he tried to keep up with his melting ice cream. His face was a mess, a few sprinkles at the edge of his ice cream stained mouth. “Very romantic. So this is where the Kate Sheffield came to be?”

“It is indeed. Here,” She chuckled, stopping in her tracks as she reached up to wipe his white stained mouth softly. “You’re very messy.”

He was staring at her as she wiped his mouth, and her brain had only caught up with her actions a few moments later. She was touching his face, her hand on his cheek as she wiped his mouth.

His mouth.

His perfectly, slightly rose tinted lips.

“Oh my god! Kate!” Her old school friend, Ophelia Nixon, who had gone to university in Nottingham screeched as she ran up to Kate and hugged her. Kate introduced Anthony and they made polite conversation before Kate said they better head back as they had a long drive ahead of them.

The moment between her and Anthony had come and gone as quickly as it had happened. Neither of them acknowledged it.

Kate shook her head, thinking she was being ridiculous. There wasn’t a moment, of course there wasn’t.

Right?

“I like him,” Mary said later that evening, hugging Kate at the doorstep as her and Anthony were about to leave. Anthony had already said goodbye, and he was waiting in the car to give the Sheffields a private moment.

“I like him too,” Kate said, giving her mother a pointed look. “As a friend.”

“Of course dear,” Mary brushed Kate’s thick hair out of her eyes, winning at her. “It was lovely to see you, darling. Safe drive home. I love you a lot.”

“I love you too,” She hugged Mary one last time, before moving to hug her sister.

“I hate when you go,” Edwina murmured, wrapping her arms around her sister tightly. “You should bring back boys more. Especially ones who look like that.”

“Edwina!”

“What?” Her sister replied innocently, but she was smirking. “He definitely likes you.”

“I love you,” Kate said pointedly, ending the conversation as she pulled away from her sister. “I’ll call you both later.”

“Love you,” Edwina was laughing, waving in her and Anthony’s direction. “Bye Anthony!”

Anthony looked up and waved as Kate groaned, turning to give her a sister a murderous glare as she climbed into the car.

“You okay?” Anthony asked as Kate waved at her mother and sister’s fading figures as they drove off.

“Yeah,” She said, that feeling of sadness still aching slightly in the pit of her stomach. The years passed, and it got slightly easier, but it would always hurt. She smiled at him. “Thank you for today.”

“Of course,” said Anthony, returning her smile before focusing back on the road as they sat in a comfortable silence. Kate felt herself dozing off, the events of the day catching up on her, but as she fell asleep thinking about how much her dad would have liked Anthony.

Siena Rosso comes into the picture at the start of their second year. Kate doesn’t understand their relationship, if it even is a relationship, and deep down she knows she doesn’t want to understand. She prefers to not think about it, prefers to not think about that gut wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach when she sees them together.

Besides, Siena is nice. She’s studying drama in the year below them. She’s witty, gorgeous, has no problem putting Anthony in his place and Kate understands why he likes her. She’s absolutely nothing like Kate.

Kate had never had much experience with boys, something she had long come to terms with in school and was once aware of again in university. It did happen, she had more opportunities in university-it just didn't happen a lot. Boys didn’t seem to gravitate towards her and she never got asked out on dates. It just wasn’t something that happened to her.

Edwina had even gotten a boyfriend long before Kate had.

She’s at a party one night in October, and Anthony isn’t there. Kate had been trying to make more of an effort with people outside of their friendship group and particularly people who weren’t Anthony. He had a life outside of her, and she would have one outside of him. She was invited by Poppy, a girl she had met in one of her history electives.

She gets paired up with Simon Basset for beer pong at the pre-drinks, and they were getting on very well. She didn’t know him at all, she only knew of him from Anthony. They had gone to Eton together, but Kate hadn’t met him until tonight. Anthony had been good friends with him for years, but hadn’t thought to introduce Kate or invite her whenever him and Simon met up.

“I’m Simon,” He introduced himself as grinned at her. “I really don’t like losing at beer pong.”

“Good thing I don’t lose,” Kate replied swiftly, smirking right back at him.

They walk to the club together and he gives her a piggyback when she complains her feet hurt. She puts up an instagram story of Simon and her winning beer pong and another of them smiling at the camera.

She ignores Anthony’s reply to her story, and she drinks more.

When she's on her third drink, Kate decides her and Simon were flirting. They were definitely flirting.

“What course did you say you were in again?” Simon shouts over the music, his hands lingering on her waist.

“Law,” Kate shouts back at him, leaning up slightly to speak in his ear.

“Ah! Do you know Anthony Bridgerton?”

"Yeah!" Kate tries to contain the grin that forms on her face the minute he's mentioned. "He's one of my best mates."

“Wait,” said Simon, the grin on his face completely disappearing. “You’re Kate?”

“Yeah,” She said, raising an eyebrow slightly at Simon's fallen face. “Has he mentioned me?”

“I can’t do it, I’m sorry,” Kate looks confused and Simon sighs, shaking his head. “I can’t do it to Anthony.”

“What? Can’t do what?” said Kate, raising an eyebrow. “Oh! No, no. We’re just friends!”

“I still can’t,” Simon insisted, actually taking a step back from her. Did Eton breed these boys to be so dramatic? “Believe me, I want to, but I can’t. Bro-code.”

“That’s ridiculous. Wait, did he say something to you?” Kate asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at him and feeling quite infuriated. Why couldn’t he do that to Anthony? Kate was his friend, not his sister. Not that it made a difference but to boys it clearly did. Kate didn’t know what category it fell into.

Simon just winked at her, “I better go before I do something I’ll regret but really won’t regret. I’ll see you around Kate,” Simon then literally ran away from Kate, and Kate was left standing there, gobsmacked.

“What just happened?” Poppy asked, walking up to Kate and following her gaze towards the back of Simon’s head, fading into the crowd.

Kate sighed, taking a long gulp of her vodka and cranberry. “I have absolutely no idea.”

The following day, Kate was feeling rather sorry for herself as she sat in the common room of their accommodation. She was incredibly hungover, exhausted and had sat through two lectures back to back that morning. She was meeting Anthony for lunch before she went to sleep for the rest of the day.

Anthony strode into the common room, a frown on his face as he sat down opposite her. "Were you with Simon Basset last night?”

“Wha?” Kate mumbled, her hangover pounding against her temple. “Hello to you too. Oh, yeah.” She would have rather forgotten about him, the guy who had rejected her in the middle of the club.

“And?” Anthony pressed, staring at Kate rather disgruntled.

Kate sat up, rather confused at his attitude. She was more than familiar with Anthony's moodiness, but this was slightly bizarre. He looked pissed. “And what?”

“Kate,” Anthony snapped, looking oddly serious as he pulled out his sandwich. “What do you think? Did you get with him?”

She didn’t care for his tone and she glared at him as she lifted her head. She ignored his question. “Did you say something to Simon Basset about me?”

Anthony gaped at her, his mouth hanging open with his half chewed lunch. “What?”

“Ew, shut your mouth you animal,” She scolded, making a face at him. “He mentioned you last night.”

Anthony put his sandwich down, looking at her seriously. “Did you get with him?”

Kate felt her cheeks heat up, forcing herself to look at him and scowl. “That’s none of your business!”

He was not pleased in the slightest. His tone was cold with a hint of irritation, lower than usual. “Kate.”

“Anthony.”

He leaned forward as he spoke, “Seriously, Kate.”

“Not that it has anything to do with you, but no, we didn’t!” She exclaimed, not understanding why he was acting quite hostile and why he was acting that question. They weren’t the type of friends to talk about who they got with, and Kate wasn’t really that type of person anyway. She was easily mortified. “He wouldn’t because of you. Something about some misogynistic bro-code.”

Anthony let out what looked like a sigh of relief, but she wasn’t sure. She knew that she would never truly understand men, and this was another example of why she shouldn’t ever bother trying.

“What did you say to him?” Kate asked, frowning at him, now happily munching away at his sandwich. She felt ridiculous asking, but she was confused and annoyed. “Did you tell him not get with me? You better not have Anthony Bridgerton. I will murder you.”’

“I didn’t tell him anything! Jesus, Kate. It’s Bro-Code. You don’t get with sisters, girlfriends, ex-girlfriends or girls who are best friends of your friends. There’s some lines you don’t cross,” He shrugged. “It would be like me getting with Edwina.”

“Okay, I’m eating my lunch and I'm extremely hangover,” She gagged, shuddering at the thought. “That is not the same. That code is ridiculous. Women aren't possessions you can ban your friends from getting with simply because they mean something to you.”

“It would be like you getting with Benedict!” The coloured veins in his neck were sticking out and she could see his frustration. “It’s wrong and immoral.”

“Again, eating my lunch. Benedict is a child so that’s another disgusting example I won't be entertaining. You're being absolutely ridiculous,” She shook her head, “I can still get with whoever I want. I don’t need your permission or some stupid code dictating that.”

“I never said you did,” He retorted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Besides, Basset is my friend and all, but he’s bad news. He flies through girls. He’s not relationship material.”

“That’s sort of the pot calling the kettle black, though, isn’t it? Siena is still with you.” She felt like she had gone too far, but she was too angry to care. Siena was a sensitive topic, an unspoken topic, but she did it anyway. “I know what I can handle.”

“Do you, though?” His tone wasn’t angry, it was cold. She had struck a nerve. He looked at her with a blank expression and Kate felt like he was looking right through her. “It’s not like you know what you���re talking about. You’re not exactly experienced, are you?”

Kate stared at him, speechless, as if her ability to speak had been slapped out of her. She felt the heat rush behind her eyes and the tears that were quickly following, but in that moment she’d rather die than cry in front of him.

She just grabbed her bag and walked off, ignoring his calls behind her.

They don’t speak for three days, which frankly, sucks. It's their first big fight in the two years they've known each other. They bickered constantly but they never actually fought. It was awful. They still had to see each other, at lectures and around the university, but she sits at the back and as far away from him as possible. He had tried to speak to her and pretend like nothing had happened the following day, but she had just walked past him.

He had really hurt her feelings. Her lack of experience was a sensitive topic, and he knew that, everyone knew that and he had still thrown it back in her face.

“Kate?”

It’s a Wednesday night and she’s in her room, writing an essay about corporate law. She had said no to going to the pub with her friends, she wasn’t in the mood. She was trying to focus on her lectures but her mind kept revolving back to Anthony bloody Bridgerton.

“Kate, I know you’re in there. I can see the light,” Anthony’s voice was loud and clear through her door. “Please talk to me. I’m really sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was an asshole.”

She didn’t say anything, twirling her pen around with her fingers. Her breath had caught in her throat as she heard his voice, she hadn’t expected him to be there. She figured he had gone to the pub, or was out with Siena.

“I hate not talking to you. I miss you. Please? I brought you those cookies you like. And those fizzy bears,” His voice was pleading, and she knew he meant it. “I’m so sorry. Please.”

She opened the door after a few seconds, staring at him, and then at the goods in his hands. Her willpower had long expired and he sounded so sad, so desperate. He sounded like she felt. “White chocolate chip?”

“Of course,” He said, standing up straight and handing her the food. “I’m so sorry, Kate. Can I-?"

“Come in,” She murmured, walking in and collapsing on her bed. She pulled her legs up, making room for him on the bed. She opened the fizzy bears, offering them to him first.

He hesitated as he looked at her, biting his lip. “We’re okay?”

She nodded, “We’re okay. I am sorry about what I said too, you know. About the pot calling the kettle black comment. You were still a bigger asshole, but I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it. You’re not wrong and I wasn’t exactly nice, was I?” She snorted, and he laughed. “I really did mean it from a good place. I don’t want anyone to mess you around like that.”

“I know, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” She replied, licking the sugar off her lips. “You need to take that toxic masculinity down a notch, Bridgerton.”

“I know, I know what I said was wrong. It took me longer than I'd like to admit, but I understand that now,” He replied, his voice soft and she felt guilty for being mean to him. He didn’t look great, he looked tired and the skin under his eyes was darker than usual. “I am sorry. Please don’t ever ignore me again. I’d rather get my wisdom teeth out again than go through that.”

“Well, don’t be an asshole and we won’t have any problems, will we?” said Kate, smiling sweetly at him as she opened up the cookies, feeling the white chocolate melt in her mouth. It tasted glorious.

“Whatever or who you want to do, I will support it. I promise,” He looked slightly in pain as he spoke. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” She nudged him with her foot. “We’re friends again, relax.”

He looked relieved but slightly uneasy. “Is this one of those friendship moments where we should hug?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. Affection was not something that came natural to Anthony Bridgerton but it was adorable when he tried. “Hard pass.”

They spent the rest of the evening in her dorm, chatting about everything and anything. It had only been three days of not speaking, and she had missed him more than she should have. She had missed him a dangerous amount, and it seemed like he had missed her too.

Kate shook her head, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind as she focused on Anthony’s story about some trouble his younger brother Colin had gotten into in Eton yesterday. Ever since his father died, Colin had been acting more and more reckless. Anthony didn’t know what to do with him and his mother just coddled Colin.

Their second year is a blur of exams, parties, clubbing, more exams, assignments as winter turns to spring and spring to summer. It’s over before it feels like it has started, and Kate can’t believe it.

Anthony’s on and off relationship ends as well, when Sienna decides to study abroad in Paris for her second year and leaves at the start of the summer. Kate doesn’t let herself think about why she feels lighter, but she still brings him McDonalds and beer when he texts them they broke up. His room is pretty much packed up, unlike Kate, Anthony is very organized. Their second year was officially over and they were leaving tomorrow. Kate hadn’t even packed, but she knew he’d help in the morning.

He doesn’t talk about his feelings, obviously, because he’s Anthony. They watch New Girl instead, on his laptop, eating crisps and drinking coke, until he shocks her and talks.

“She said I was lost,” He murmured, playing with his pocket watch. It was something he always did. “That I didn’t know what I wanted and she couldn’t keep waiting for me to figure it out. I wasn’t fair to her.”

“Oh,” said Kate, gulping slightly. Kate was just above Anthony on how to deal with feelings and general emotion, and that bar was set pretty low anyway. “I think, sometimes, some of us just take longer to figure out what we want. She must know she wants and she’s not wrong for going after it, even if it means leaving other people behind.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s right about you though,” She continued, trying to phrase her words delicately. “You’ve been through a lot, Anthony. It’s okay if you need more time to figure things out. We’re still young. No one meets the person they’re meant to be with when they’re 20 years old.”

“My parents met when they were 18,” He retorted, raising a pointed eyebrow. Anthony’s parents had been madly in love since they were teenagers and they had had Anthony quite young.

“Okay, well, they’re the exception then, not the rule,” She nudged him with her elbow lightly. “I know we’re not the feeling sort, but everything is going to be okay. It hurts because she mattered, and that’s a good thing. It’s better than not feeling anything at all. And eventually it will hurt less and less, and I’ll be here until it doesn’t.”

“Thanks, Kate,” murmured Anthony, looking uncomfortable but he still nudged her back which is probably the most affectionate exchange they’ve ever had between them. “Thank god you’re you. I couldn’t handle a friend who asks me how I’m feeling all the time.”

Kate snorted, rolling her eyes. The word rang in her head, a friend, but that’s what she was. That’s what he was to her. Her best friend, really. Then why did it sting when he said it? “I mean this is the nicest way possible, you need to see a therapist.”

He smacked her with a pillow, and she kicked him in the ribs, and that was the last they spoke of Siena and anything remotely to do with feelings.

Kate ignored the mixture of guilt and relief in her chest to see the back of Siena. She didn't question why it was there.

Kate had been away for most of the summer after their second year of university, traveling abroad with Edwina and Mary. It had been a trip Mary had saved up for for years and it was finally happening. They went interrailing around Europe, from Prague to Paris, staying in hostels and traveling by train.

It was the longest Kate and Anthony had ever been apart since they had met, and it was strange. They spoke on facetime most days, well, Kate spoke and Anthony listened as she spoke about her travels around Europe with her mum and sister. She sent him the picture of her holding the eiffel tower, a picture of her at the colosseum and sunset at a beach in Mykonos.

Not that Kate would ever admit it to another living soul, as much as Edwina had teased her relentlessly about it, she had missed him a lot. She had come to the realization that Anthony was her best friend. Her first, true best friend. He was someone she had always wanted to have in a friend, one that was depicted in movies and television shows-she had had good friends before university, but no one was like Anthony. She didn’t have to be anyone but herself around him.

She was thrilled when he had asked her to spend the last month of the summer with Anthony at his house in Kent. She loved Mary and Edwina but Somerset was boring and she needed to get away.

Kate felt strange.

She had this uncomfortable, nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach for most of the train ride on her way to Kent. Their flight had arrived in England yesterday morning and once they had driven home, Kate was gone the next morning. She had barely slept last night but she wasn’t sure if it was out of excitement or anxiety at the thought of seeing Anthony again.

She had changed her outfit three times before setting on a violet sundress with a daisy print.

It was just Anthony, Kate.

That was the problem.

It was Anthony.

The train finally pulled in at her station, snapping Kate out of her complicated thoughts and she dragged her suitcase off the baggage railing, glancing around. It was an old station, all she could see in the distance was fields and trees. It was just before noon and all the station had was a man behind the information desk and a small corner shop.

She walked out to the front of the station, half wheeling and half dragging her semi-functioning suitcase behind her as she glanced around the car park. Kate pulled out her phone, pressing the call button on Anthony’s contact.

“About time.”

Kate turned around to see Anthony Bridgerton grinning at her, a pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes. He looked so relaxed, in a simple white t-shirt and blue shorts, suitable for a warm English August in Kent.

It made her feel warm inside.

“Hey there, stranger,” Kate said, her cheeks beginning to ache as her grin matched his own.

She didn’t know who moved first, but when Anthony’s tanned arms wrapped around her, essentially lifting her off the ground and her arms wrapped around his neck, there was one thing Kate knew for certain.

It was the best hug of her entire life.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #this is a slow burn #friends to lovers #modern au - university #kate x anthony #bridgerton fanfiction #ao3 #fanfiction #chapter 2/6 coming soon!

[hoe-doroki]

Illiterate

pairing: Shouto x American fem!Reader (pre-relationship)

wc: 2.1K

genre: comfort, fluff

summary: You did well in the midterms despite missing the first month and a half of school, not to mention all of the previous year at U.A. But being unable to read Japanese makes you feel so stupid. And who comes into the common room after midnight just as you’re about to cry? The boy who hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks. That’ll make you feel better.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Textbook out on your left. Notebook out on your right. Laptop in front. Phone put to the side. You were taking up a whole olive green couch and coffee table in the common room with your materials. But it didn’t much matter, because everyone else had gone to sleep—or if not to sleep, then to their rooms—hours earlier. It was well past midnight on a Monday and, despite the destructive habits that some of the members of class 2-A had, most tried to get a good night’s sleep. It was vital for rebuilding the muscles everyone abused in class every day, not to mention everything else Recovery Girl had mentioned in the mandatory “Health and Wellness” seminar they’d all had to take. You’d missed it, since it had been in the first week of classes, but you had still received the handy dandy pamphlet in your welcome folder a month earlier.

But you were willing to sacrifice a little sleep in order to catch up to your classmates. You might have had an extra two years of high school over them, based on the U.S.’s school system, since you’d just finished junior year when you’d transferred. Technically you hadn’t finished out the year but you’d done all the standardized testing and gotten your final grades. But still, U.A. was much more rigorous than your old school and, in some areas, you had big gaps. You would only be able to fake it in class for so long like that.

You startled when the hallway light went on behind you. There wasn’t a curfew by which you had to be in your room, but you were still half expecting to find Iida behind you, chastising you for being up so late. But it wasn’t Iida—it was Todoroki.

You turned back to your work, hoping that he wouldn’t say anything if you minded your business and didn’t speak to him. Based on your few experiences with the boy so far, it seemed he could be relied on to be quiet. And your strategy seemed to work; you heard him padding in his slippers over to the kitchen and running some water.

Your focus was now broken, though. You looked at the pages you had out in front of you and all the characters started to blur in your head. It felt like the studying you’d just done had left you and that all the hours since dinner had been pointless. The frustration began to bloom again and you felt your face growing hot with it. You were so behind. So not meant to go to school in Japan.

“You should go back to your room.”

Your body stiffened at the quiet voice behind you. If you looked down, you could see Todoroki’s gray slippers. You hadn’t heard him grow so close.

“If I do, I’ll fall asleep.”

“That’s what I mean,” Todoroki said. “You should be in bed.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed too then?” you shot back.

“I woke up and decided to make some tea. The water’s boiling now.”

It was late enough that Todoroki had already gone to sleep and woken up in the middle of the night. And you had nothing to show for your time but a few haphazard notes and a failing short term memory.

“I just have to stay up a little longer,” you whisper, you throat constricting a little around the simple words.

Todoroki took another step closer and looked at your setup. It was obvious that you were doing work, not messing around or staying up just for the heck of it. Todoroki was one of the brightest kids in the class, in addition to one of the most powerful. Hopefully he would see your efforts and just leave you be.

“Sleep is necessary for processing information by transferring things from one section of the brain to another and strengthening connections,” he said instead. “You’ll learn more if you sleep.”

“I know that, and I will, but just…not yet.”

“Y/N, you placed seventh on the midterm. That’s impressive for a new student.”

You shook your head, wishing he hadn’t said that as hot tears started to wet your lashes. “They let me take the test in English,” you rasped, the words coming out completely pitchless. “I’ve been here over a month and I’m still almost entirely illiterate.”

Everything in front of you was in kanji. You had a stack of grammar books that were meant for toddlers that you wished weren’t in Todoroki’s line of sight. They were only half filled out as it was, since you didn’t even know all the answers for those, much less how to read what everyone else had seen on the midterm.

“Oh,” Todoroki intoned in that simple way of his. “You didn’t know Japanese before you came here?”

You shook your head. “Coming here was pretty sudden, so I only had a couple months to try and learn before I transferred. And so I focused more on spoken language just so that I wouldn’t be a complete idiot. Even though I still sound so American.”

“It’s not so bad,” Todoroki offered.

You give a chuckled weakly. “The first thing you said to me was that my Japanese was bad. Terrible. Actually, you didn’t even say it to me, you said it…around me.”

“Oh, I guess I did,” he said. If you looked at him, you probably could have seen the memory appearing on his face. “Well, I’ve changed my mind. It’s not terrible.”

Even sugarcoating it that much must have been a reach for him, so you could appreciate the effort. You blinked the last of the tears away, grateful that none of them had actually fallen and that Todoroki hadn’t seemed to notice them. “I’m sure your water is boiling by now. You can go. I promise that I’ll go to sleep soon.”

If it had been Shinsou, or Yaoyorozu, who you were beginning to grow close to, or someone like Midoriya, they would have stayed. Maybe even closed your books for you and ushered you up to your room, telling you that you could start again tomorrow. But at your words, Todoroki’s slippers disappeared from view and he went back to the kitchen. It wasn’t especially surprising. He’d barely ever spoken to you, especially since you’d used your quirk on him the first time a few weeks back. And you could understand why. Nobody liked the effects of being hit by your quirk. Or losing a match in less than two minutes. So when just a minute later you were greeted with a cup of steaming tea in front of you, on one of the small spots of table between all your materials, you were forced to look up at him for the first time.

“Would you like to speak in English?” he asked, the words coming out with certainty and only a hint of a Japanese accent over a British one. And they nearly made you fall to pieces.

“Yes,” you breathed.

He sat down on the sofa kitty-corner to yours and you noticed that his mug, like yours, was only half full. You didn’t love tea—you’d never drunk it much in America, but it was ubiquitous here. Yaoyorozu was all but forcing you to acquire a taste for it. Still, the gesture moved you and you lifted up the too-hot cup, blowing on it as you let the light herbal scent waft over to you. Todoroki was holding his mug with his left hand and you wondered if it even felt hot to him.

“I apologize if I’ve been cold to you,” Todoroki said. “The truth is that it surprised me, how you’d used your quirk on me. And that you’d seen it as a weak point after only observing me for a couple weeks. I keep on thinking that my past is behind me, but then it never is. It’s why I’m awake right now.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “I felt really bad using my quirk on you like that. The look on your face—it felt like such an invasion to use sadness against you. I wouldn’t want to do that just to win.”

“Well,” Todoroki said, the ghost of a smile on his face, “you were playing a villain.”

You groaned. “Ugh, I hope I never have to again.”

“Unlikely,” Todoroki said. “All Might creates many exercises like that.”

Your tea was finally cool enough to sip without burning your tongue. The taste of herbal tea was strange, not particularly food or beverage-like to your brain, but you thought you could understand the comfort of it. The hot liquid felt nice on your throat and you realized that you hadn’t had any water for hours. You took another sip.

“You said before that your past is why you’re awake right now,” you started hesitantly. “Can I ask why that is?”

“Just a dream,” he said simply. A bad one if his grimace was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry,” you said, although you weren’t sure if you were sorry about the dream or asking about it. Probably a bit of both.

“No, I actually…” Todoroki looked at you and you were struck by how captivating his gaze was. His blue eye was piercing, one of the brightest you’d ever seen while his gray eye was dark, almost brown, and mysterious. “I wanted to know how you knew. That exercise was meant to show us how we’ve exposed our weak spots to someone new and it would be a missed opportunity for me not to ask you about it.”

“How I knew…that you were sad?” you asked.

He nodded once, eyes still stuck on yours.

“You just…your friends seem like really happy people,” you explained. “Uraraka, Midoriya, even Iida in his way. Or even when they’re not happy, they’re wearing their emotions on their sleeves. But you, even when you’re joining in with them, there’s usually a cloud over you. Like you’re hiding your emotions. And from there I guessed that that came from somewhere. Probably someplace difficult. And when I strategized with Aizawa-sensei and he agreed that it was worth a try.”

“I see.”

“Like now,” you said, looking at his face. “Do you feel anything about what I said? If so, you’re totally hiding it on your face. Blank eyes, relaxed mouth. And, you know, that’s fine, but if you’re doing that on the outside, then, for a teenage boy, I assume you’re doing it on the inside too.”

That brought some expression to his face. Twin creases between his eyebrows, making his relaxed mouth look more like a frown without moving it.

“But I don’t want you to worry about that or what I think about you,” you said quickly. “For my quirk, I have to be really good at intuiting emotions, especially since I so rarely get to practice with people. I have to be super observant and understand something about psychology. Most villains aren’t that sensitive.”

“But some are.”

“Yes, certainly some are,” you said. “But if you want to start working on whatever underlying things you have, you should be doing it because you want to. Not because you want to be a stronger hero but because you want to love yourself more.”

Todoroki gave a little huff that could have been a chuckle. “How American of you.”

“Hey!” Your exclamation is quiet. “You’re the one who offered to speak in English.”

“You seemed homesick,” he said with a shrug.

“I was,” you admitted. “I am.”

“Okay,” Todoroki said, standing up. You saw that his mug was empty while yours was still a quarter full and now tepid at best. He took it along with his own. “You’re going to sleep now and tomorrow you’re going to ask Yaoyorozu for tutoring. She’s excellent and the two of you seem to be getting along. Our class is full of all good, mostly helpful people. You should say something when you need help.”

You shut your laptop, the screen having gone black long ago and began dog-earing and closing your books. Before Todoroki went to the kitchen you grabbed his arm, only to release it a moment later when you remembered people weren’t quite so tactile in Japan as they were in America, Todoroki especially so. Still, you had his attention as he turned back to look at you. “The same to you. You should say something when you need help.”

Todoroki’s lips pursed together, not quite in a smile, not quite a frown, but in acknowledgment. He probably wasn’t fond of you turning your words back on him.

“I’ll…try.”

#bnha x reader #todoroki x read #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha insert #soft todoroki #soft shouto #soft shouto todoroki

[mythgirlimagines]

This week, I have a brand-new talentswap MAID especially for you! If you couldn’t tell by the pun in the first sentence, this Myth is the Former Ultimate Maid!

——————————————————-

BACKSTORY AND TALENT

Originally living with her sisters at an orphanage, Myth watched as both of sisters got picked up by loving families, while poor Myth was left in the dust. In order to make herself more desirable to prospective parents, Myth taught herself how to cook and clean after all of the other kids in the orphanage. Eventually though, much to her joy, she was eventually was picked up by a wealthy family that eventually ditched her, despite being great at her maid duties. Eventually, after going through many wealthy families and being tossed out/abused/ignored, without a second thought, one family managed to keep her: a warm and loving family with an artistic prodigy for a daughter. For once, Myth felt the love and affection that she was starved for, after all of those years of isolation and being tossed out like common trash. All of those skills accumulated from both helping out at the orphanage and being raised as a maid for all of these wealthy families, earned her the Hope’s Peak title of Ultimate Maid. 

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RELATIONSHIPS

Wyre Anon, Former Ultimate Artist

Born into an influential family of artistic geniuses, with their father being a master sculptor and their mother being a expert sketch artist, Wyre mainly specializes in the craft of both their parents, even though they are a master in practically every art form their parents can throw at them. When Wyre heard from their parents that someone was going to be adopted into their family, Wyre was ecstatic at the idea, and Myth quickly proved themself as a great servant and sister figure. Myth regularly serves food and cleans up after Wyre, when they gets particularly busy. Every since Wyre heard about Myth’s past with all of the other families, they claim that they are willing to fight all of them, much to the protests of Myth. 

Outfit: A brown paint-colored apron over a black sweater and matching pants and shoes, a tool belt with sculpting supplies, black fingerless gloves, glasses from original design.

Anon Scar, Ultimate Detective

Despite Scar’s eccentric behavior and constant talk of possessing an “All-Seeing Eye” under her eyepatch (which was actually lost in a battle between her and a particularly violent criminal), none of Scar’s clients can deny that she is a very competent detective, in spite of both that and her age. Her detective duties can get very stressful at times, but it seems Myth has a psychic connection to Scar’s distress, for she would always be there with whatever can calm Scar down. This has caused Scar to feel both intrigued (in regards to the possible existence of psychics) and concerned for Myth’s health and well-being (because of Myth‘s constant overexertion and overworking).

Outfit: A black and purple eyepatch on her left eye, a black jacket slung over her shoulders Yasuhiro-style, a black vest over a white dress shirt, black pants and black thigh high heels.

Fusion Anon, Ultimate Astronaut

Ever since he was little and went stargazing with his grandparents, Fusion has always showed an interest in reaching the stars and traveling beyond the boundaries. Having aced both the physical and written exams at NASA, despite his age, Fusion is well on his way to becoming a full-blown astronaut. Fusion also trains younger children who are planning on becoming astronauts just like him, via lectures on astronomy and little physical exercises to build up endurance, and he brought his astronaut-training seminars to the Kibo-Con. Myth regularly assists him in his seminars, and in return, Myth gets glow-in-the-dark star-shaped stickers and freeze-dried “astronaut grub” from Fusion. 

Outfit: A blue galaxy printed jumpsuit over a red t-shirt with a yellow star on the front, black and dark grey gloves and matching boots, glasses from original design.

FU-510-N Mk. 2 (aka. Fusion Anon II), Ultimate Robot 

FU-510-N Mk. 2 (or Fusion II as she’d like to be called) was a robot created by NASA, in order to both assist Fusion in his seminars and accompany him on his future space expeditions. Created to entertain adults as well as children during the lectures and training, Fusion II was written with more of a sarcastic edge to her dialogue with Fusion, making her a bit more of a straight man to Fusion’s cheerful and pun-loving funny man, almost like Fusion’s rebellious teen daughter. Fusion II bonded with Myth quickly over their shared statuses of being “assistants“ to others. But much to Fusion II’s dismay, it doesn’t seem like Myth is able to pick up on her sarcasm at all.

Outfit: A white exoskeleton, pink and black joints,  and four small black wheels underneath her “skirt”, clothes from original design.

Just Anon, Ultimate Anthropologist 

Running away from home, because of his massively rich, influential, and incredibly strict parents, with nothing but a backpack and his wits, Janon eventually found the one thing that actually interested him, while on his trek across the world: people and their cultures, which attracted him to the field of anthropology. After writing all about his travels and the philosophies he learned in a couple of journals he eventually published for the masses, Janon was revered as a genius in the field of anthropology. Despite planning on taking this secret to the grave, Janon has a secret soft spot for Myth, for she reminds her of the poor maids being crapped on by his influential family.

Outfit: A black facemask, a black overcoat over a pink t-shirt, a skull necklace, brown pants, black boots, a big brown backpack.

Sparkle Anon, Former Ultimate Entomologist

Specializing in lepidoptery and coleopterology, Sparkle intends on showing people all about the beauty of insects, in the most flamboyant and over-dramatic ways possible. Despite these idiosyncrasies, she is a respected figure by entomologists and aspiring entomologists everywhere. While Myth loves admiring the odd butterfly as much as the next person, Sparkle attracts insects like sugar water, and they are all a nightmare to remove and exterminate. The whole insect issue isn’t helped by the fact that Sparkle loudly and explicitly refuses to let Myth get rid of any of her “precious jewels”. Luckily, Sparkle shared some non-pesticide related methods to herd her insects, in case they get wild.

Outfit: A cape that resembles monarch butterfly wings with shoulder pads that look like rhino beetles, a green insect carrier,  a brown skirt with darker brown ant patterns, the glasses, jacket, undershirt, leggings, and boots from her original design.

Egg Anon, Former Ultimate Child Caregiver, and Wet Sock Anon, Former Ultimate Aikido Master

With a childish, immature and cursed yet caring personality, Egg was a massive hit amongst the children of the orphanage that they and their twin Wet Sock were born and raised in. In order to protect the children that their twin cared for, the brooding and cynical Wet Sock decided to pick up aikido and self-defense skills, dominating bigger foes in all the tournaments they entered. Shouldering the burden of hearing the twin’s primary defense mechanism (read: cursed comments), Myth quickly bonded with Egg, thanks to their shared interest in caring for others. Myth tried to bond with Wet Sock, but because of them being tsundere, Myth only gets judo thrown in response.

Egg’s Outfit: Part of their hair tied up with a yellow scrunchie, a green hoodie with yellow sleeves, a fanny pack colored like their original shirt, black shorts, long yellow socks, green light-up-shoes, glasses from original design.

Wet Sock’s Outfit: Same outfit from the original, but with black aikido pants and matching sandals.

Curious Anon, Jr. Ultimate Supreme Leader/Assassin

With the dubious and odd title of “Jr. Ultimate Supreme Leader” and an enigmatic and stone-faced personality, almost nothing is known about this mysterious Jr. Ultimate, not even what their talent entails. What Myth and the majority of the media don’t know, is that Curious is that his title is actually the Jr. Ultimate Assassin and is current throneholder of a secret underground religious cult that is particularly known for brainwashing and teaching their children how to assassinate potential religious rivals. Luckily, Myth was fortunate enough to not cross paths frequently with Curious, for she would definitely try to adopt the preteen assassin with a messed-up upbringing, if she ever catches wind of the truth.

Outfit: A simple white robe with a green sash indicating leadership that hides their assassination weapons.

Anon Nerd, Former Ultimate Inventor

Being a mechanical genius born in a country that was ravished by a massive war, Nerd was quickly sent to work in manufacturing and inventing brand-new weapons for his nation’s army. This past has given him a hair-trigger temper and a hatred for being interrupted, when he is in the middle of inventing. And yet no matter how many scouter-burns she suffers in the process, she never remembers that little tidbit of information about, when she comes barging into Nerd’s lab with his dinner, much to the rage of the easily-enraged inventing prodigy. But beneath the foul mouth and even-fouler temper, could Nerd have fallen for Myth’s kind and earnest attitude, despite being very annoying?

Outfit: Black armor that covers everything apart from his head, and the scouter from his original design.

Eldritch Anon, Ultimate Pianist

Videos of a person garbed entirely in black and playing self-composed pieces have been springing up on the internet for the past year or so, and despite the mysterious person attempting to make absolutely sure that he wasn’t found, Hope‘s Peak found the true identity of the online piano prodigy: Eldritch Anon, a former piano champion, who has since retreated to the shadows in growing anxiety and fear. Whenever Eldritch thinks about anything he wants or needs, Myth would always be right behind him with his want or need in tow. Because of that, Eldritch now wears a tinfoil hat on his head at all times, to prevent Myth’s psychic powers from reaching him, to no avail. 

Outfit: A black marching band outfit with white music note buttons, over a grey hood-up hoodie patterned with black sheet music, white gloves, tall black boots.

Dream Anon, Ultimate Magician

With infectious childlike cheer and unstoppable charisma on stage, Dream’s magical performances are truly a sight to behold, whether you’re a child or an adult. Dream has recently employed Myth as her magical assistant, and Myth regularly roped Dream out of trouble, just in case her magical performances go awry. But at the same time, Dream also took on sort of a mentor role to the maid. While Myth has entertained several guests with some minor parlor tricks, Myth would love to learn all about how Dream accomplishes all of her large-scale and stupendous, and how Myth can learn them herself. If Myth learns from the best, she would be able to entertain way more guests.

Outfit: A black and pink top hat, a black coat and white gloves over a pink vest, an orange bow tie and a white dress shirt, a pink skirt, grey stockings, and black tap shoes.

Iris Anon, Jr. Ultimate Cosplayer

Having been a regular consumer of fiction ever since she was little, she picked up sewing and fashion design from her parents and eventually began making accurate-to-the-show cosplay items, ranging from simple accessories to full-blown outfits. Despite being really clumsy when it comes to everything else, Iris is amazing at handicrafts. Myth and Iris consider each other “sewing buddies”, for their shared interests in sewing outfits and other such handicrafts. Iris regularly lets Myth model her cosplay, for they are about the same height and have the same proportions. Iris would be lying if she said she hadn’t tried sticking cat ears or dragon horns on Myth when she wasn’t looking. 

Outfit: Hair down with a heart barrette on each side of her head, a pink jacket with sewing supplies in her pockets and on her sleeves over a seira fuku with a red ribbon and a blue skirt, black stockings and red Mary Janes.

Purple Anon, Ultimate Adventurer

As the daughter of two famous and affluent ambassadors, Purple has been to practically every corner of the globe. Because of her travels, Purple regularly talks in archaic terms mixed with the insertion of gratuitous foreign vocabulary into her sentences, which means that the majority of the Anons can‘t understand a word coming out of her mouth. Purple is also stunningly timid for the daughter of two ambassadors, and often hides behind Anons that are bigger than her for when she doesn’t want to be seen by the crowds. Even if Myth can’t understand much of what comes out of Purple’s mouth, Myth still loves seeing Purple slowly but surely come out of her shell and talk about her travels.

Outfit: The beret from her original design, a dark purple overcoat and brown gloves over the sweater from her original design, lighter purple pants, brown boots, a brown carrier bag.

This AU will center around the maid getting helped for once, much to her protests.

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PERSONALITY

Despite her less-than-stellar past, Maid!Myth has a cheery and energetic attitude that belies (and bolsters) her sheer aptitude as a maid and her joy is described as “infectious” amongst Wyre’s family. With definite “mom energy”, Maid!Myth always comes prepared with the wants and needs for each and everyone of the Kibo-Con attendees, and seems to have an almost telepathic ability to whatever they all want, which unnerves a couple of the Anons (namely Eldritch, Scar, and Purple). Even though she overworks herself to a fault and everyone constantly tells to take a break from her work, she constantly shoulders every burden and duty placed upon her, in hopes that they won’t abandon her, just like every other family before Wyre’s family. This gave her a case of “chronic hero syndrome”.

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APPEARANCE

Maid!Myth’s naturally brown hair is tied in a prim and proper bun, complete with a white and light pink French-maid style headdress. As for the rest of her clothing, Myth wears a white and light pink French Maid dress with the only exception to the “white and light pink style” being a ribbon around her waist with a pink-to-purple-blue gradient, purple socks and red Mary Janes.

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I hope you like this AU! Let me know what you think of the AU and its roles in your reblogs!

#submission #anon #fusion anon #talentswap tuesday #art #not my art #fusion anon ii #curious anon #purple anon #iris anon #sparkling anon #just anon #dream anon #wet sock anon #egg anon #eldritch anon #anon nerd #anon scar #my evil twin #anon kg #wyre really is an amazing artist

[zillennial97]

College/University AU | Larry Fanfic Recs (part three)

Dance to the Distortion by Lis (domesticharry) | 96k | Explicit

Louis accidentally breaks Harry's camera lens and in order to get it fixed, they decide to participate in a romantic couples study. The only issue is that they are not actually couple. Well that and the fact they cannot stand each other.

All the Right Moves by cherrystreet | 32k | Explicit

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

You're Writing Verses About Me by Rearviewdreamer | 23k | Teen And Up Audiences

Everybody knows that Louis has never been one for serious boyfriends. His reputation around campus precedes him, which is why he doesn't think twice before proudly telling his mother about his new and completely fabricated relationship with his oddly quiet and completely

Kiss the Boys by FallingLikeThis | 8k | Explicit

“Being able to blatantly kiss pretty boys out in the open is my favorite part of Pride,” Harry says without preamble, leaning into Louis’ space, inviting pink lips quirking up as they get closer to him. “You up for it?”

“Um,” Louis glances at Zayn for help. He’d thought for sure after the way he’d just seen Zayn and Harry kissing, there had to be something more going on there. The last thing Louis expects to see on Zayn’s face is a knowing grin.

Harry leans closer and for a split-second, Louis wants to meet him halfway but then he thinks better of it. He doesn’t know the landscape here and in just a couple of weeks living with him, he’s already learned that Zayn is really bad about holding his feelings in. He doesn’t want to risk stepping on the toes of his closest friend here at Uni. So, at the last second, Louis raises his empty hand and covers Harry’s mouth before the boy can complete his mission.

“Sorry, Curly,” Louis says jokingly, “I just don’t know where that mouth has been.”

Convalescent Boy (with a Heart of Gold) by LadyLondonderry | 7k | Teen And Up Audiences

Just as the professor beginning to mess with his powerpoint, the door at the back of the balcony creaks open and Marcel looks back to notice Louis Tomlinson, The Louis Tomlinson, slip in and take a seat in the very back.

Marcel is starting to feel like his life is a comedy. Only yesterday was Louis Tomlinson on his floor at the library. Now he’s in his seminar. What is happening?

“Hey Mars,” Nick says, not particularly quietly as he leans over. “Isn’t that your crush?”

Marcel smacks him.

Or, the one where Marcel is a nerd who loves to learn but loves to go to theatre productions even more, and may or may not have a long time crush on the lead in most of the plays, Louis Tomlinson. The same Louis Tomlinson who seems to be appearing wherever Marcel is. Funny, that.

We're Dancing On Tables by allwaswell16 | 5k | Explicit

Last week, Louis went on the very best date of his life with the hot guy from his chemistry lab, which was great until the guy never texted him or called him afterwards. Everything is great. Everything is fucking great. Now this guy has the nerve to show up at Louis’ house party, which of course forces Louis to plot to ruin his night.

Running Through a Cloud of Steam by allwaswell16 | 5k | Mature

As Harry’s long anticipated twenty-first birthday approaches, he anxiously awaits the moment when he finally meets his soulmate. He’s not even sure he believes in soulmates, but at the very least, he hopes to prove to his best friend that nothing can come between their friendship--not even a soulmate.

The King of Halloween by pinkpoppunk | 4k | Teen And Up Audiences

Louis goes to Liam's halloween party and finds out he has matching costumes with his crush, Harry.

#larry stylinson #larry fic #larry fanfiction #larry fanfic rec #larry fanfiction recommendations #college au #university au #uni au #larry stylinson fanfiction #one direction #one direction fanfiction

[imjeralee]

REQUEST: Birthday - Raihan x Reader One-shot

Pairing: Raihan x Reader 

[One shot - more like a Drabble tbh]

Sorry it’s so short. This was harder than I realised O_O I hope you like it tho

Fluff, SFW

Title: Birthday

...

It’s your birthday in a few weeks and you noticed Raihan had been acting weird.

Firstly, he started coming home late.

Like really late.

Secondly, he wouldn’t tell you where he went, just that he had ‘something to sort out’.

Third, he began smelling...strange.

Not so much like aromatic perfume, but more of a musky, earth smell.

When you google up the signs, they all seem to point that your boyfriend of several years could be cheating on you. 

Raihan would never cheat on me, you find yourself thinking to yourself. He just won’t.

But what was really going on was that Raihan was planning a birthday surprise for you and had spent a long time with the presentation and preparation.

You’d been together for a few years now and every year, he’d gotten you something different.

For the first year, he surprised you with a designer handbag and a luxury weekend getaway but he soon learned that you’re not too intrigued or crazed about labels or enchanting locations but all in all, it was a lovely birthday treat and there were several good memories from that.

For your birthday the next year, he got you a baby Pokemon and whisked you off to Alola for a daring skydiving session over Akala Island. 

And the year after that, there was no more beating around the bush and he straight up asked you what wanted and you said you weren’t too fussed because you don’t need Raihan to go all out or take you to such expensive places.

It could be also to do with getting old and being around him for so long that you didn’t have much to look forward to nor did you want anything in particular, you did tell him that you would rather just spend a nice evening with him and have a delicious home cooked, candlelit meal.

However, Raihan’s still determined to treat you so this year too, so he asked the gym leaders what would be a good birthday present for his lover and received mixed results:

Opal told him he should try baking a cake. 

Milo told him a Wooloo is the key to a woman’s heart, but you already have one.

Nessa thought a meal at The Captain’s Table would do the trick.

Kabu said a trip to Hoenn would possibly suffice.

Piers also gave him tickets to his concert.

Raihan rubbed his chin, wondering if it was possible to combine all those ideas but then realised it’s better to come up with something far more original and something that would resonate more with you.

Therefore, he found himself sitting down on the grassy pitch of Hammerlocke stadium one day, writing ideas down. He eventually compiled a list and went through it many times, ticking several ideas off. He even resorted to online videos for inspiration.

In the end, he remembered how much you love Goomy and an idea formed in his mind.

Keeping it as a surprise was harder than preparing the actual surprise.

And the more he came home late and the more he gave you excuses as to why he was being so darned secretive, the more he saw your face falling when he would refuse to disclose where he was going, the more it pained him inside.

Finally, on the day of your birthday, you’re first to wake up and although you try to wake him up too, he’s exhausted because he came home so late last night so all you can do is get ready for work, wriggling free from his grip and slipping off the bed. 

You silently get dressed albeit watching him worriedly before you head downstairs to make breakfast and as you munch on your cereal, reading this morning’s news on your phone, you hear the steps creaking one by one and soon Raihan appears in the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Hey babe,” he greets you wearily, shoving his feet into his flip-flops and making his way to the sink where he fixes himself a glass of water.

“Hi babe,” you reply, watching him down the drink before he lowers his hand, wiping his mouth.

You both regard each other for a few moments before you clear your throat. 

He looks at you expectantly. “What’s wrong?”

You’re grinning, nudging your head to the calendar. 

Raihan watches you silently, taking another sip.

“...Aren’t you forgetting something?” you say, your grin widening.

He takes another sip.

You end up huffing, crossing your arms. “Rai. Today is-”

“Ah, that’s right,” Raihan says, before he smirks at you. You nod, sitting up properly in your seat. “How could I forget?”

“Yes yes?”

“It’s your-”

“Yes?”

“It’s your b-”

You’re leaning further in your seat expectantly. “Yes?”

“Brother’s seminar today, isn’t it? He’s hosting a special training event at Hammerlocke University.”

There is a brief silence following his reply.

“Oh....” you mumble out; you’re visibly deflating, slumping in your seat and throwing your saddened gaze to the floor, “....Yeah, it is. Funny you remembered that and not...well, you know.”

But he’s looking at the clock, “Shouldn’t you be heading for work now?” he adds, “You’re gonna be late.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you finish the rest of your cereal as quickly as you can and slide off your seat, grabbing your bag, donning your coat and slinging it over your shoulder. “I’ll be back at six.”

“Okay, see ya. Have fun at work.” Raihan says, and he pulls you in for a quick kiss before pinching you briefly on the ass, and you leave the house.

Once the door closes, Raihan rubs the back of his neck awkwardly when he recalls how disappointed you look, “....I’m really pushing it, aren’t I?” he utters to himself. 

...

Raihan couldn’t have forgotten the date of your birthday, could he?

You’ve been together for years now.

At work, your coworkers surprise you with a birthday card and a box of chocolates which you are grateful for. You will be going out for drinks with them another day.

They ask you what Raihan got you for your birthday and if he surprised you with anything this morning but you tell them he didn’t mention anything but he remembered your brother’s seminar, not your birthday.

They’re stunned by the revelation and you think, hell I should’ve kept my trap shut because it sounds embarrassing but they tell you maybe he has a surprise waiting for you at home.

You inwardly hope that’s the case.

Work is over in a pinch and you begin to finish up for the day, leaving the office.

You always treat yourself to something nice on your birthday but today you will just pop into the grocery store and buy one of your favourite snacks. 

Once you’ve grabbed a few packets and paid for them, you head home with your goodies and check your phone. You haven’t received any messages from Raihan all day; he’s been awfully silent since and you can’t help but feel extremely disappointed but also, this is rather uncharacteristic of him. 

However, when you open the front door and step inside, you realise the entire hallway has been outlined with little chubby candles.

Your jaw drops open in shock.

“What the...”

And you hastily put down the bag of groceries on the cupboard and kick off your shoes, glancing around.

It’s a pleasant surprise so you step further down the dimly lit hallway, smiling to yourself as you marvel the beautiful display. 

You follow the candles all the way towards your shared bedroom and you open the door only to bring your hands to your mouth to cover your gasp.

Raihan sits on the bed facing you, which is decorated entirely with rose petals and in front of him on the floor are a number of Goomy arranged to form a heart. They all look up at you, blinking their little beady eyes upon your arrival.

“Oh my god!” You exclaim before Raihan grins widely; he’s holding a little silver harmonica in hand.

“Hey baby girl,” he replies, as you gape at the group of Goomy who gurgle happily at you, before you avert your gaze to the gym leader.

“What is this????”

“Your birthday present,” Raihan’s grin broadens. “Watch.”

He lifts the harmonica to his lips and blow a single note which rings lightly in the air, and suddenly the Goomy begin to sing in harmony to the tune of the ‘Happy Birthday’ song.

You smack a hand over your mouth with delight and shock as they warble. 

The Goomy seem to know when to take turns and harmonise in a series of watery gurgles and loud chirping and begin waving to and fro in a mesmerising pattern, their round and squishy bodies bobbing up and down in tune to the song whilst their little horns wiggle in the air. 

The song is almost finished and a particularly chubby Goomy opens its mouth wide and emits a low bass tone to finish the song which makes you giggle.

You squat in front of the group once the song is over and the Goomy cheerfully gather around you as you hold your arms out.

“That was amazing!!!” you gush, patting each and every one of them on their heads and stroking their horns. They line up single file and you giggle and proceed to lift each and every Goomy off the floor and into your arms, hugging them tightly, and pecking them on the top of their heads one by one. “You guys were awesome!”

Once you’re finished, the Goomy jump up and down on their spots happily and you move to stand; Raihan beckons you closer to him and you eagerly step over towards him and he pulls you into his arms and settles you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I thought you forgot...” you say with a pout, fiddling with the white little straps of his hoodie.

“I’d never forget your birthday,” he murmurs, reaching forwards to press a sweet kiss on your lips. 

“Is this the reason why you were always coming home so late? You were teaching them to sing for me...”

“Yeah.”

“And that smell!” you exclaim.

Raihan blinks blankly at you. “What smell?”

“It’s Goomy,” you chuckle and slink your arms around his neck, kissing him tentatively in response. “I should’ve known.”

“Hehe, but you didn't. Did you like it?” he asks, before he leans forwards and presses his lips deeply against the curve of your cheek, letting go to briefly nuzzle you at the same time, making you squirm and giggle in his grip.

“Yes!” you exclaim, before you throw your arms around him tightly. “Thank you so much, I love it!”

“Anything for you, baby girl,” he replies with a grin, and you smile as he encircles his arms around you, bringing you into a deep, passionate kiss.

EXTRA:

Raihan’s gotten you more gifts of course. He spoils you rotten.

Also, no Goomy’s were harmed in this production.

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

Note:

I even made a meme for this:

#request #Raihan x you #Raihan x reader #one shot #birthday #raihan #kibana #jeralee #headcanons #pokemon #pokemonshield #pokemonsword #pokemon shield and sword #pokemonswordandshield

[waspbakery47]

The Unadvertised Facts In to Amazing Selling Machine 12 That A Lot Of People Do not Know About

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The stamina of dropshipping market in the United States of America is additional shown by ads in the main directory sites of suppliers such as Salehoo, Worldwide Brands and also DOBA. Nevertheless, as earlier specified, even more drop shipping companies are being added to the existing list, particularly in China. Decrease shipping is an inexpensive entrance point to obtaining included with online commerce due to the fact that business model does not require the seller to keep any stock. There are no overhead prices for storage space, no hypothesizing on constantly changing consumer need, as well as no unlimited waits in article office lines. The 2-Minute Rule for Amazon Selling Machine One of the most important part of the programs is the workflow and also job management. Since they have to create thousands of pages and also install lots of performance for developing an excellent user pleasant web site, Designing an eCommerce shop is really a hard bargain for the programmer. There are a number of services that the internet site contractor offers and also they show to be rather and practical. Customers can construct and make their very own on the internet shop, protected hosting, satisfy orders as well as accept repayments, just among others. Right here is a listing of all the highlights of the on-line internet site contractor. However, the genuine revolution occurring today isn't driven by huge shops like Amazon. It is driven by tiny stores. The world of ecommerce is opening up for small businesses in a way that was never possible prior to. The most significant obstruction to accepting settlements was attracting the attention of their target consumers. EZBuy, formerly known as 65daigou, routes at 3rd area with 2.2 million average regular monthly visits. EZBuy secured US$ 20 million in financing for their collection B round in March 2016. Acting as an intermediary, their site permits users to buy things offered in abroad on the internet stores and also deals with whatever from acquiring the things to shipping and importing them. One of the important things that consumers like about ecommerce purchasing is likewise among the things that local business owner locate most challenging - no individual call with customer. Your automated ecommerce solution aids take full advantage of efficiency while minimizing straight communication with customers. One of the largest earnings difficulties that eCommerce and also online organisations face is the loss sustained from product returns, specifically on those items that obtain harmed throughout messenger handling. The higher the worth of the harmed item the greater is the losses for business. As the Christmas purchasing period kicks right into high gear on Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, portraits of St. Nick with a family members's cherished dog are simply one means retailers are looking to draw in consumers in the face of exploding ecommerce. According to SimilarWeb's Q2 average monthly traffic, Lazada is the nation's most seen ecommerce and without a doubt the only retail ecommerce to generate more than 60 million regular monthly ordinary visitors, exceeding Zalora, Shopee, and also ebay.com with at most 30-fold lead. Despite the access of Amazon.com in SEA with Singapore last July, Alibaba-backed Lazada remains positive for its market-specific understanding in the region. 2018, we could see a great deal of drone distribution solutions business like Flytrex kick-starting their operations, in addition to mainstream logistics companies like DHL and also UPS will certainly spend much more in drone delivery solutions to make it accessible for e-commerce store owners. During this 4 to 6 week duration, this vendor - and also likely a lot more similar to him - continue to take orders, place orders with the supplier, as well as spend most of their time explaining the hold-up to their clients. After that after the six weeks have gone by they start to anxiously send out e-mails to the supplier that go unanswered and also suddenly the provider closes up their web site and also flees with the cash of all the sellers, leaving the vendors to reimburse customers out of their very own pockets. Why I Acquired TWO ASM For My Loved Ones

#reviews

[thejudgingtrash]

Virgin Percy and chad Annabeth omg

Here you go, love! :D Also kids feel free to stay away. It’s sfw/nothing explicit is going on, everyone is an adult but obviously there are small references about sex.

Let me swing that cliched trope, anon! :D also thank you again Torie @percyheartsannabeth ^^

Red Solo Cup (WC: 2.4k)

It didn’t come as a surprise to Percy that Annabeth rushed past him into his apartment and threw herself onto the sofa. She basically was at home at the Jackson’s and a more than welcome guest. “What happened?” Percy asked.

“Broke off with Ethan,” the blonde shrugged and grabbed his cherry coke. Another boyfriend that the college freshman dumped, another nonchalant reaction from his 19-year-old friend. Percy had learned early on not to ask Annabeth why her relationships didn’t work out. His best friend would rage into a monologue for hours and talk about every little detail. Every single one.

From the small size of a penis, to the number of warts her ex’s grandma had. Every detail. Percy had been burned more than once before.

“Well another one bites the dust,” the young woman said and turned her favorite show on. Percy had to admit. He was jealous. Whereas Annabeth was living her fullest and free as a bird with relationships and flings, he didn’t. Instead of hanging out with new friends, he stayed in and babysat his sister. His interactions were mostly limited to group chats. The Dominican rarely got out. Percy didn’t know whether it was social anxiety speaking or just an extreme case of introversion.

He looked okay, passable. According to some of Annabeth’s girlfriends he was cute and looked exotic, although he didn’t like that word. Having light eyes and a deep complexion shouldn’t count as looking exotic. Percy wasn’t built like his cousin Charles Beckendorf and he also didn’t have the charm of Annabeth’s ex Luke Castellan. Or the coolness of Annabeth’s latest fallen boyfriend Ethan Nakamura. But he was passable. More than fine. Not a huge slob, a great listener, an amazing cook and a great friend. So how come he never had a real relationship. How come that he never had been kissed, that he still remained a virgin to that day? Was his quietness that off putting? Percy just hoped that he wouldn’t join the crazy ranks of 40-year-old incels spewing their bullshit online and potentially harming people. He just wanted to find his soulmate he could cover in his baking goods.

“What’s going on?” asked Annabeth who was confused at his silence. Percy was usually way more talkative and would fight for the remote control because he hated watching her dramas.

“I don’t know. I’d really like to meet someone to talk to,” he confessed and didn’t dare to look her in the eyes.

“Huh? What do you mean? We’re talking right now.” She took another sip from his drink.

Percy rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I’d like to have a relationship. Explore crushes and love and all of that.”

Annabeth was surprised. She didn’t know that being single annoyed him that much. “Oh please. Relationships are overrated. Trust me.”

“It’s not just that. I haven’t got any experience.” Percy was a terrible flirter. Sweaty palms, accelerated heartbeat, and stuttering. Middle school and high school had been hell. “I haven’t even kissed someone and I’m nearly twenty!”

“So what? You’re making a deal out of this. It’s so weird and just not like you. That literally doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of life. Don’t force it. When you’re ready, you’re ready.” His friend shrugged. “Also, if I remember correctly, we have kissed before.”

A sloppy wet kiss that Percy buried deep into the darkest pits of his mind.

“Come on, Annabeth.” Percy rolled his eyes. He almost would have been offended if he hadn’t been so tired. “That was in ninth grade and part of truth or dare.”

Annabeth crossed her arms. “I still think that counts!” she disagreed.

Percy just sunk into the sofa and sighed. “Alright. How many people have I kissed that haven’t been you?”

Annabeth remained quiet. Percy had a point. He really didn’t go out to meet new people. Meet new friends or acquaintances. Meet someone who he could see as a date. The blonde felt uneasy and licked her lips. Her gaze rested on the young man next to her who had a sour expression on her face and continued watching Grey’s Anatomy against his wishes.

“Okay, Mr. I’d like a relationship. There’s a party next week at Reyna’s,” Annabeth started and caught his attention.

“You want to have some experiences? That’ll be the place to be and see what you’ve got. You’re in?”

Percy had to admit. He felt uneasy and nervous. But then he sealed his fate and nodded.

“Okay, let’s go to bed, I’m tired.” Annabeth and he sleeping in the same bed was a habit they had ever since they were nine and it never stopped.

The week passed. Seminars and classes had been attended and assignments were half way done. Friday evening was the time where everyone was finally letting loose. Percy was getting ready in his room.

Annabeth’s advice was a text she had sent an hour earlier which only said don’t show up naked, wear something comfortable. Not particularly helpful. He settled for a white dress shirt and dark jeans. Perhaps too much, perhaps too little. He wasn’t a party person so he wouldn’t know. It wasn’t much until he saw Annabeth in front of Reyna’s house where people were already drinking and laughing in front of it. She was speaking to a little group of people and seemingly cracked a joke as they began to laugh.

“Percy!” She waved him over. She looked good in her jeans and the dark crop top. Lose golden curls that rested on her shoulders. The group dissolved and entered the house.

Annabeth examined him. “You look good,” she smiled.

“Likewise.”

Annabeth’s mouth was agape. Then she laughed. “You really need a lesson in flirting. Let me be your teacher.” He’d rather not. Annabeth in hunting mode was something you only wanted to witness once.

As soon as they stepped into the house, they were greeted by clouds of weed, sweat and cheap alcohol. A brunette shadow walked up to them.

“Perseus! You made it!” Reyna hugged him and he stiffly hugged her back. Yes, he was that bad with people. Even people he had known for years.

“Hi Reyna,” he laughed. Reyna raised an eyebrow and looked at Annabeth. The native Puerto Rican thought that Percy would bounce like he always did.

“Reyna!” Thalia, Reyna’s girlfriend called for her.

“Okay, see you guys around.” Reyna excused herself.

Annabeth turned to Percy. “Alright. Let’s scout and watch out for some prey for you.”

“You’re making it sound like you’re Bear Grylls ready to fight for some survival shit.” Percy was weirded out. Party Annabeth was scary.

Annabeth laughed and slapped his shoulder. “That’s basically the spirit.”

He followed her into the living room which was full of drunkards shouting and grinding over the worst DJ Khaled remix that he has ever heard. Before Annabeth could talk about the plans she had in her mind for Percy, the fates had other intentions for them.

“Oh hey! Annabeth, right?” Some blond schmuck approached them. He looked like a trust fund baby that has never heard the word no in his life before.

“Octavian! Oh my god, it’s been a while!” They hugged and Percy felt incredibly awkward. Being the third wheel was not fun.

“Who’s that?” Octavian eyes the tall young man behind her.

“Oh, that’s just Percy, don’t mind him.” Ouch. That hurt.

“I’m going to get myself something to drink. You two have fun,” Percy decided. Annabeth waved and promptly forgot about him.

Percy fought his way to the kitchen. He had forgotten how rude drunk and high people could be, especially when they loved to block paths. As he entered the kitchen, he ran into someone. A young woman with auburn hair and a frown on her face.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He asked and helped her stand up right.

“Oh yeah. I’m just tired of this place. Why did I agree to come to this party?” she sighed and was glad that the cute stranger wasn’t part of the annoying drunk crowd.

“I feel you. I hate this,” he sighed. They both shared a smile and a laugh.

“Why did we agree to this?” she giggled.

“I guess we like to torture ourselves,” Percy chuckled. She was nice. Found an instant liking to her. “Percy,” he introduced himself.

“Call me Calypso,” she smiled. An instant connection had been made.

“Want to drink something? Non-alcoholic that is?” Percy proposed and hoped that his voice didn’t crack.

“Gladly,” she left and took his hand.

It dawned Annabeth slowly. She had forgotten something. Didn’t she come to this party with an intention? Not just drinking and dancing. But something else. The college student had been talking to Octavian, danced with him, talked a bit with his friends and now they were alone again. It was abundantly clear that he was interested in a short fling.

“Oh fuck,” she remembered what she had forgotten. Or more who she had forgotten. Percy. Where was he?

“Huh?” Octavian asked.

“I’ve got to check in on a friend, don’t move, I’ll be right back,” the blonde smiled and winked.

“Oh, alright.” Octavian said. He was trapped in Annabeth’s web. Just the way she liked it.

Annabeth looked out for Percy. She had seen her friends Piper, Clarisse, Hazel and Reyna again but none of them had seen him. Annabeth checked her phone. Apart from Instagram stories that had been shared frantically, no new messages. Percy was the type to text her immediately should he leave. Hell, he would have told her in person.

She reentered the living room with a frown on her face. Her gray eyes scanned the area and actually found his messy black haircut on the dancefloor fairly easy. Percy and dancing. A smile slipped onto Annabeth’s face. Then it dropped. Percy wasn’t working it in the middle of the room alone. He had his hands around the waist of a curvy small brunette. Percy had gotten his wish. The entire purpose of this operation was to meet someone new. And the way he threw his head back to laugh proved that he fairly enjoyed himself.

Annabeth felt a thing and that one thing only: boiling rage. Her feet acted immediately. She marched to the dancefloor and pushed everyone aside that had been in her way until she got to Percy and the mysterious girl at his side.

“Percy! There you are!” Annabeth said and threw herself onto him in a hug and broke his embrace with the stranger. Then she grabbed him and pulled him out of the crowd. Confused, the mystery girl followed them.

Percy was perplexed and looked down at Annabeth, who was behaving very oddly. That was not the usual chill Annabeth he knew. Percy looked to Calypso and saw the hurt in her eyes. Oh no, she must think we’re together, he thought.

“Uh, Calypso this is Annabeth, a friend of mine,” Percy explained and saw how the brunette visibly relaxed.

“Best friend you meant to say,” Annabeth corrected and stole his red solo cup. She had to admit that being reduced to a friend hurt her way too much. Her smile cracked at the taste of soda instead of a delicious liquor. She had forgotten that Percy was a non-drinker in the heat of the moment. She needed something that would wash her annoyance away. Annabeth shook hands with that Calypso girl.

“Calypso, like the dance?” she asked with a slightly condescending tone.

“Uh yeah, exactly. Like the dance.” Calypso said and raised an eyebrow as Annabeth got a hold of Percy’s arm.

Percy looked back to Annabeth and gently tried to pry her off. Her grip only tightened, and her fingernails dug into his skin.

“And what is this supposed to be?” Calypso asked and pointed at Annabeth who claimed Percy’s complete right side. She sounded annoyed.

“Nothing,” Annabeth innocently smiled. The cold harsh look in her eyes said something else.

“Um, Annabeth, weren’t you talking with that Octavian guy? Or what was his name?” Percy’s discomfort was clear, and Annabeth ignored the hint.

“Oh yes, but I’d rather spend my time with you!” she grinned and didn’t let go of him.

“Sorry girlie but it’s clear that you’re ruining our moment.” Calypso’s hand waved between her and Percy.

“What moment? Am I not allowed to hang out with my best friend?” The irritation in Annabeth’s voice rose. Percy and Calypso looked at her in shock.

“If he’s your best friend, then I’m pretty sure that you’ll see enough of him? Just leave.” Calypso rolled her eyes.

“What if I don’t want to?” Annabeth innocently pouted and tilted her head. “Percy’s always there for me which is what I want right now. Sorry Calypso. We’re having a moment right now.”

Calypso’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Annabeth enjoyed seeing her frustration rise up.

“Alright, listen Annabeth normally I wouldn’t say this but you-” Calypso’s eyes widened. Annabeth had turned Percy’s head to herself and pressed a kiss onto his lips.

Percy’s eyes widened before they automatically shut down. Annabeth was an excellent kisser and her soft lips felt like a dream. Percy had to admit that he enjoyed the kiss. He enjoyed it way too much. Then he broke it off. Shock was written on his face and his eyes wandered from the all too pleased Annabeth to a speechless and hurt Calypso.

“I can’t believe it.” Calypso shook her head, turned around and left.

Annabeth smiled a victorious grin. Then she looked up to Percy and saw him for the first time. Not as a friend, but as a handsome guy that she happened to know all too well. His sea green eyes scanned her face and his lips were slightly parted.

“Annabeth, what in the fuck was that-” Annabeth cut him off with yet another kiss that she deepened. This time Percy didn’t break the kiss off. He held her tight and touched her warm back. He felt her grinning between the kisses.

“Come with me.” Annabeth said. She didn’t give him a choice. She took his hand and dragged him out of the building. Party be damned, they could celebrate at home amongst other activities. Alone.

“What are you doing? Where are we going?” Percy asked.

“Oh,” she said and turned around to look him in the eyes. “I’m just making sure that no one else is bothering you.”

The End

Tbh, I don’t mind me some hot girl Annabeth... Thanks again for the suggestion, anon!

All Cookout Fics

Cute/Cursed Cookout Writing Prompts

#pjo #percy jackson #mel's little cookout #percabeth #annabeth chase #percabeth fanfiction #pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians #mel writes

[krisiverse]

{{ You said in the tags of a post that there's actually a lot to do in Vegas that isn't gambling. What kind of things do you mean? I've heard about Omega Mart and REALLY want to visit someday! But what else is there? All I ever, ever hear about is the gambling and Driving Down The Strip. I sometimes go there for seminars, and I like exploring places I visit! (I mean, the daytime temperatures when I'm there are too warm for me to want to go hiking, but I'm open to any indoor options!)

absolutely!! i stayed in a hotel at the vegas strip for a week (my great-uncle was there for a convention and wanted company), once you get off the casino floor there's a big variety of stuff to do! it's basically a giant mall but with a bunch of different themed sections, there's bits based around new york and ancient egypt and (my personal favorite) medieval theme- i spent a whole lot of time just wandering around and seeing what the different places had to offer and there's still SO much stuff i didn't see

one particularly fun experience i had was this hunger games-themed tour where they had a gallery of costumes and props and sets from the movies and at the end a game where you got to shoot a bow to hit targets

even for someone who was never the biggest fan of it it was really fun! my arms were so sore the next day but it was incredibly worth it, i love archery

i got a few really nice things from different shops too! the medieval place sold lollipops with these little plush dragons on them so of course i got one of each color here's me with one (the others are blue and green)

i also got a blue ringed octopus plushie and some fossil shark teeth from an aquarium gift shop despite that i did not go in the aquarium itself

and the biggest single purchase i made there was at a nice little crystal shop!! i had a long and really nice conversation with the people there late at night and i bought a nice chunk of amethyst geode on a stand, and they also let me take a couple little ones for free that i think weren't actually on *sale* but were just set out for display but there were a lot of them! that's where i got the piece of sodalite i have and a few others i dont remember, sodalite was the only one i didn't recognize going in though which is why i remember it bc i asked!!

but yeah it was a REALLY good time its a great vacation spot!! there's a big variety of different things you don't have to engage with the gambling aspect At All (also a lot of the shops are open really late, which is nice when you have a messed up sleep schedule)

#rez replies #idk if you're in columbus but it's like easton but More #i like window shopping and thats what im used to but its definitely nicer to be able to buy things bdhkdhksh