#he’s turning 13 this year though so I’m starting to get more anxiety every time he gets sick. even though he’s otherwise healthier than | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greetings-and-salutations · 6 months

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“There’s Plenty of Kish in The Sea, Right?”

Fred Weasley x Reader Part 1

✨CATCH UP DUMP✨

Day 8 of the 13 Nights of Halloween Spooktacular!!!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

(Gif not mine)

Requested? No

Summary: Cedric wants to be a champion. (Y/n) wants him to live to see the end of the school year. Freddie just wants to be (Y/n)’s boyfriend…

Warnings: starred out swear words, jealous Freddie, Angst-kinda

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader (you’re a Hufflepuff)

(Y/n/n) - your nickname

The room was practically buzzing with anticipation. Dinner had been over and done with for what felt like ages, and yet no one had dared move from their seats. They remained, waiting. Because tonight was a big night. Tonight the students of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang would find out who had been chosen to compete in this years Triwizard Tournament.

“Calm down, Ced.” (Y/n) tried, her housemate and best friend practically bouncing in his seat, the anxiety flowing off of him in almost visible waves. (Y/n) herself was substantially less nervous, seeing as how her birthday wasn’t for a few more months and she was therefore ineligible for the event. Not that she’d have entered, anyhow. She valued her life, thank you very much. Cedric, however…

“I can’t help it (Y/n)! This is a huge deal! Finally, my chance to make something of myself… Ever since Harry got here it’s like I’m not good enough anymore and-“ Cedric ran his fingers through his hair in distress, (Y/n) frowning at his words, cutting him off with a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Okay, calm down.” She ordered, the boy turning his body to look at her as she continued, knowing full well the true reasoning behind his nerves, and not liking his self-deprecation one bit… “Look, I know you want to make your dad proud, Ced. But, he loves you. And I’m sure he’ll love you just as much even if you don’t get chosen.” She ran her hand along his back in what she hoped were soothing circles, to which she was proven correct when the taller lad sunk into her embrace with a sigh.

“Thanks, (Y/n/n)… I suppose you’re right…” He mumbled, resting his head on her shoulder. (Y/n) chucked in response.

“Aren’t I always?” She asked, earning herself a playful shove back which had them both giggling. “You know, I’m still not even sure what would posses a person to want to do something like this.” (Y/n) noted, running her hand through Cedric’s hair mindlessly, as she voiced her thoughts on the tournament for what was quite possibly the millionth time. Previously, it had been in an attempt to talk the older boy out of it, though, more currently, it was simply out of spite, as there was nothing anyone could do once his name had been entered. Not that (Y/n) thought that out of all the names he’d get picked. Of course she wouldn’t be telling him that. He seemed so excited about it all. And it would be much easier to deal with a Cedric that was mad at the system for not choosing him than one mad at his best friend for not believing in him. No matter that the choice seemed relatively random…

Cedric just hummed, most likely to humor her strong opinions at this point, but (Y/n) didn’t mind, as she continued on.

“I was talking to Hermione and she said-“

“Shh!!! It’s starting!” Well, then…

+ + +

“Ahh the trusty old ‘stare at her until she notices you’ trick. Works every time.” George joked from beside Fred, who sent him the nastiest glare he could muster up, before returning his attention to the Hufflepuff across the room. He just couldn’t help it. She was gorgeous. Fred had been pretty much head-over-heels in love with her since they’d been paired up for potions the first day of third year. And, much to his twin brothers amusement, he’d been fairly useless as a human being around her ever since. It’s not like Fred meant to become a stuttering mess of a man every time he was within a ten foot radius of the girl. Under normal circumstances, he could flirt his way out of a jail sentence if he really wanted to. Fred was fairly proud of this fact. But, with (Y/n), it was like he was putty in her hands. And it was incredibly infuriating…

“Shove off, mate.” Fred grumbled, finally turning his attention away from the Hufflepuff table and back to the world around him when Cedric Diggory dropped his head to rest so f*cking adorably on (Y/n)’s shoulder. Fred briefly entertained the idea of a ‘disappearing’ prank on the older bloke, but, upon the realization that that was insane, opted to simply pout at the tabletop in front of him. A nudge from his other side gained his attention away from the wood grain, however, and Fred turned to Lee with a raised brow. “What?”

“You need to loosen up, Freddie. It’s one girl. What’s that muggle saying? ‘There’s plenty of kish in the sea’?” Lee offered, confusing the sh*t out of pretty much everyone present, before George made to correct him.

“‘Fish in the sea.’ ‘There’s plenty of fish in the sea’, mate.” He said, though nobody could hold in their snickers as Lee crossed his arms across his chest defensively. Even Fred managed a small smile before returning to a neutral expression (that one might consider rather downcast for the guy in question) when Lee jumped to his own defense.

“I’m pretty sure it was ‘kish.’” He argued, clearly causing George’s annoyance to grow, while Fred remained relatively unbothered. He wasn’t looking for a different ‘fish’ or ‘kish’ anyhow. He just wanted (Y/n)…

“Why the bloody hell would it be ‘kish’? What the f*ck is a ‘kish in the sea.’” George complained loudly, unintentionally firing Lee up more. Fred rolled his eyes.

“A good snog. Lip locking. Spit sharing. You know, a ‘kish.’” He enunciated his point with a loud smack of his own lips followed by a cheeky grin that probably meant he was proud of himself, for what, Fred didn’t know. That was just about the dumbest thing he’d ever heard, and he’d been sharing a house with Ron for the last fourteen years…

“You’re an absolute idiot.”

“Hey, you’re one to talk!”

“Why don’t you say that to my face, huh!?”

“You think I won’t!?”

“Get to it, then!”

“I will-“

“Shut up, you tossers! It’s starting!” Fred almost yelled, interrupting the fighting boys when he noticed Dumbledore making his way towards the goblet at the other end of the Hall. Finally. Something to distract him…

+ + +

“Cedric Diggory!”

W-what?

The table around (Y/n) felt like it was shaking. Hufflepuffs of all ages clapping and pounding on the hard wood in support of their champion. Of Cedric…

“(Y/n/n)!” And suddenly her feet were off the ground, her best friends arms wrapped around her tightly as he swung the younger girl around in his excitement, one that she could, regrettably, not join him in.

Cedric was going to compete in the triwizard tournament... The triwizard tournament… The incredibly dangerous triwizard tournament… Cedric…

“Oh my…” (Y/n) barely managed to breathe out, in complete and utter disbelief of the situation. Meanwhile, Cedric was practically glowing.

“I did it!” He spoke ecstatically into her ear as he put her back down on her own two feet, the biggest grin (Y/n) had ever seen spread across his face. It dimmed slightly, however, when he noticed her own worried expression, and realized that she did not share in his joy.

“Hey…” He mumbled, pulling her back in for another hug, though this one considerably calmer, which (Y/n) was grateful for. “I’m gonna be okay… I’m gonna win this thing. Yeah?” He whispered so softly (Y/n) wouldn’t have been able to hear him had he not been so close.

Now, she didn’t know how much she believed him, the concern for her friend eating away at the girl immensely, but (Y/n) gave him her best smile and nod anyway, knowing that all she could do at this point was support him. Merlin knows he’s going to need it…

“I’ve gotta go with the other champions but I’ll see you later, Okay?” And (Y/n) nodded again, holding her expression for as long as she could, before finally sighing in relief when he turned, and she could drop the act and allow herself to wallow in her true feelings. God, if she hadn’t been before, she surely was nervous now…

And that was all before the boy who lived was announced as the fourth champion…

+ + +

Could this day get any worse?

Fred thought not, as the current residents of the Great Hall all sprang to their feet and began chatting animatedly about the events that had just transpired. But Fred remained stationary in his seat, grip so tight on the tables edge that, had he cared, he’d be worried he might break it.

But Fred’s mind was elsewhere, going a mile a minute in just about a million different directions.

Cedric was the Hogwarts champion…

Harry put his name in the Goblet of Fire…

Cedric was all over (Y/n) when they called his name…

Why didn’t Harry tell George and I how to put ours in?

(Y/n) looked so worried when Cedric walked off to join the other champions…

Why doesn’t she look at me like that?

“You good, mate?” Fred heard George ask from beside him, but he didn’t answer. What could he say? “No, actually. I’m incredibly offended that the girl I like seems to fancy another guy, even though I’ve given her absolutely no reason to think I’m interested in her because I can’t f*cking talk to her without sounding like a complete and utter doof.” Yeah, that would be real helpful…

“Sorry, spaced.” Fred mumbled dumbly before finally getting to his feet. “I’m tired. Let’s go on up.”

Fred knew George was looking at him funny, but he didn’t have the energy to care, as the pair made their way out of the Hall, Fred, for the first time in over two years, not sparing a single glance at the Hufflepuff table…

There’s plenty of kish in the sea, right?

TO BE CONTINUED

Tag lists are open!!!

Tags: @electriclcvewp @missryerye @kaqua @miaandthediamonds @lolawassad @nani-2305 @etanordoesbullsh1t

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funkletrunk · 5 months

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“ I’m so sorry that they pick you last” - letter to my 13 year old self by laufey

pairings! + dazai osamu & reader

mentions of ada members, hurt no comfort, reader has anxiety !! enjoy

cross posted to ao3 @/mrfrunklewonk

The party was too cramped, neon lights flashing over the tipsy crowd. Bodies huddled together, dancing and drinking. To get through them all just to find your party was already a tiring mission on its own. One of the ADA members suggested that they go out to party, to loosen up a little. You weren’t much of a party person but they convinced you to tag along. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin your relationship with your colleagues, you were already unsociable enough to begin with. Focusing on work and only polite small talk when necessary. But he changed that.

Dazai bothered you every day nonstop, and whether it was his intention or not, he got you to open up. And his efforts certainly didn’t go unnoticed, the little outings, the flowers in the morning on your desk. You smiled a little more, talked a little more, and a little louder. You became brighter as a person and more sociable. You were still shy and quiet, don’t get that wrong, but he helped you open your heart to more people by forcing himself in there first. Your heart hammered, knowing he was going to be there. He was the reason you were going, having persuaded you while walking you home.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“(Name),” His arms are behind his back, taking long strides next to you. You look at him, humming back in response as you observe his facial features. If he notices your ogling, he says nothing. “You’re going to come to the party right?” He turns to look at you with a smile while you, in return, look away. Your face scrunches as you think and Dazai's smile only grows wider at this. “I don’t know..” “It’ll be fun! Just come, and I’ll make sure you have a great time!!” You look back at his face, a wide grin stretched on it while he gives you a thumbs up. You sigh nod your head and chuckle as you watch Dazai celebrate your answer.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Not that you’ll let your coworkers know that, you’ll just let them think it was their “convincing” that made you come.

You squeezed through the crowds and saw familiar figures sitting in the distance on some sofas in the back. You smiled, getting a little excited as you scurried over to them. You made sure to wear a nice outfit tonight, hoping it’ll impress your coworkers and Dazai. You walk over to Kunikida who is standing rather than sitting with some of the others, scribbling away in his book (typical). “Hello Kunikida-san!” “Oh, hello (Name).” He barely looked up, acknowledging your presence in the slightest. You don’t take it to heart, though, you know he can get very absorbed with his writing. Your eyes drift over to Yosano, Ranpo, Tanizaki, and Naomi on the couch.

You walk over and try to find a space to sit, but there’s no more space so you just stand as you politely greet everyone. Yosano gives you a hello before going back to talking to a grumpy Ranpo, who does not acknowledge your presence at all. You figure it must be important and try not to start a conversation. Tanizaki and Naomi both waved with a small smile and before you could try talking to them, they went back to chatting together. You uncomfortably shifted, rubbing your arm and looking around. Everyone was busy and both Atsushi and Dazai were missing. (Kyouka and Kenji were too young, and Fukuzawa disliked outings like such).

You’re looking around and you see two figures approaching from a door to the left, walking towards your group. As they get closer, you realize it's the two missing members of the group and sigh a little with relief. Besides Dazai, Atsushi was second to make sure you felt most welcome as the newest ADA member. You admired his compassion and bravery. You wave with a smile to the two. Atsushi smiles weakly and waves back and Dazai keeps blabbering on in his ear, his eyes closed and his arms flailing around dramatically. Your smile drops a little, but you’re sure it wasn’t intentional so you grab Dazai’s sleeve and tug on it lightly. He quickly goes quiet, peeking open his eyes to look at you. He smiles at you, albeit it seems a little forced.

“Ah, (Name), you made it!” “Just like you asked,” You averted your eyes shyly and before you could speak again, Dazai's velvet-like voice cut through the air. “I’m sorry (Name) but I happen to have business with Atsushi tonight, could you please excuse us?” You feel your skin crawl and prickle with anxiety, suddenly snapping your eyes up to look at his shut ones. “You’re going to leave me on my own?” “I’m sure there’s another member who wants to talk to you” “Nobody wants to talk to me Dazai, I’ve been ignored since I’ve gotten here!”

Your breathing is fast, your heart rapidly beating as you feel your eyes prickle with tears. You watch as Dazai opens his eyes to observe you with a straight face. Atsushi is still standing next to Dazai, feeling awkward and guilty about the whole situation. “Then maybe you should go home.” You can barely register the words out of his mouth, head spinning and heart thumping. Your head droops, tears building up and threatening to fall. “Alright, I guess I will.” And you leave. You make your way onto the street, the cold night breeze stinging your tear-stained cheeks as you walk home. You can’t believe you thought this time would be different.

“Dazai-san, was that necessary? I’m sure she just wanted to have a good time with us! And is it safe to let a woman walk home on her own at this time?” Atsushi stares at Dazai, frantically spitting out each word faster than the last. Dazai stares at the door where she left before placing a hand on Atsushis shoulder. “She’s a member of the ADA, she’ll be just fine Atsushi.” Dazai smiles at him and waves him off to go get them both drinks. He looks back towards the door, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Sometimes people just need to learn how to live on their own.”

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #hurt/no comfort #i cried #no beta we die like fyodor #one sided feelings but only if you squint

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wooahaes · 2 years

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a tug in the right direction

pairing: non-idol!wonwoo x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 2/13

word count: 2.9k~

warnings: some anxiety about love, i guess?

daisy’s notes: believe me when i say i tried to make this one longer. im 99% sure seungkwans only ended up being as long as it did was because of the groundwork i was laying there :(

summary: Wonwoo has had the little string around his pinkie for most of his life at this point. Sometimes he feels his soulmate tugging. Sometimes he tugs back. Sometimes he can even feel the string grow tighter when his soulmate is near...

There was a little string tied neatly with a bow around Wonwoo’s left pinkie. He remembered turning ten and watching the way it seemed to stretch out of nowhere, looping around his pinkie like magic. It looped around once, twice, and then a third time before tying itself into a little bow. When he had tried to show his parents, they had gently told him that they couldn’t see it. That his string was a part of him and his soulmate and would link the two of them until they met. He remembered lying in bed that night, trying to urge himself to get some sleep so he could properly celebrate his birthday with his family when he woke up. But instead he reached up, gently taking the pale strand between his right hand’s fingers, and tugged.

And he felt nothing back. He asked his mom about it when he woke up, and she had told him that maybe you’d been asleep. Maybe you hadn’t turned ten yet, or maybe you had just missed it. You could feel it, though, and maybe one day you’d tug back, just to tell him he was there. Every so often, Wonwoo would reach up and tug at the string. It was a “hello,” to you, or maybe a “I’m here,” to be more exact. Just his little way of letting you know that he was there on the other end after all.

He’d never know whether it was you turning ten, or you finally noticing the occasional tugs on your string, but he felt you tug back almost a year later. He had been playing games with his brother, and he ended up losing when he gasped, beaming at the newfound feeling. His brother had teased him over it, and Wonwoo had gone back to playing with him, but he was happy knowing that you were out there. He’d managed to tug back, too, while they were starting a new game. A sign to you that he heard you, loud and clear.

Over the years, he felt the occasional tug every now and again. Sometimes he tugged first, just as a reminder that he was still there. You’d tug back, sometimes once, sometimes twice, and he began to wonder if you were doing it for the same reason he did. Maybe it soothed you as much as it did him to feel that tug back, to know that you weren’t alone in the world. Wonwoo considered himself lucky that he knew you were out there. He met Mingyu in college (someone who had his soulmate’s first thought on him) and that had been how Wonwoo came to know the other soulmate signs or lack thereof. He heard about how Seungkwan shared pain with his soulmate, that Seungcheol saw the world in black and white. Truly, Wonwoo became grateful that his sign was so... low-key in comparison. He didn’t want to know his soulmate’s first thoughts if they were rude, or have his soulmate deal with his pain from the time he ate seafood years before...

It wasn’t until a few months prior to Seungkwan finding his soulmate that Wonwoo began to feel something different. He knew what the tugs felt like: he’d felt you tug at the string enough times after all. But he’d be reading in a cafe, or he’d be at work, editing another novel, and he’d feel it: the string grew tighter around his pinkie. Then it’d grow loose again too soon. At first he thought you were merely tugging it hard enough to get his full attention. But Wonwoo looked into it further, finding out that the tightness meant that you were close. You were in the city.

He could find you.

That thought both thrilled and terrified him. So he told no one for a while, because he knew his friends would encourage him to follow the string to you. And then they found out about a week or two after, mainly due to someone noticing the way he’d wince at the feeling, they did. His soulmate was close enough that he could find them--why shouldn’t he go for it? It left him with a sense of guilt when someone like Jihoon or Soonyoung encouraged it, because they were right. What was stopping him from chasing the string and finding you and hopefully falling in love? Nothing but his own doubts and insecurities. Maybe, if he stretched the truth, his career in literature. Right now it was editing, but what if he started writing? How much of his time would be eaten up by that? His partner deserved better than someone who’d be busy meeting deadlines for a while before things grew stable again.

Truth be told, he followed them a few times. Just to see if he could see you, wherever you are. Then he’d at least know your face and he could figure how the words to say. But the string would fall loose around his finger again, most likely due to you stepping onto public transport, or the one time he did right as the string began to tighten. It was almost as if the bus doors shutting while he took his seat had snipped it for the moment. He told Mingyu later about the failed attempts.

“I know,” he had said. “You get this look in your eyes when you try to go.”

Did he? Mingyu later told him it was hope. Wonwoo was inclined to believe him: despite his fears, he hoped he’d find you soon enough. Just to take one look at you even if the two of you didn’t touch.

Maybe the reason he never fully followed them was because Wonwoo was sensible. Love at first sight was just a myth--even with a soulmate out there for him. He’d heard the stories plenty of times: you found your soulmate, you fell in love immediately, and that’s that. Whether the next step was marriage, or a kid, or a pet: it always came as a fact. It felt like the sort of thing he’d read in kids storybooks, the things his parents read to him while he was a eager child ready to eat up every single word. Love was more complicated than that. Wonwoo didn’t need in fall in love to know that. Wherever you were, soulmate, he knew that he wouldn’t love you first. He wouldn’t love you when he saw your face for the first time, or after your first date, or maybe even during your first kiss together. Like was a word that felt right for those. Love came later. Love was slow, and patient, and kind: that was what Wonwoo felt it should be, at least. No immediate kisses and “I love you”s to be found until he felt and meant it. Perhaps that was why he wanted to see your face before the two of you officially met: either it’d prove him wrong about the whole “love at first sight” thing or he’d at least be able to fantasize about what kind of person you were, just to warm himself up to you beforehand. It’d be a judgment before love, sure, but at least he could piece something together. Piecing something together was better than going into it all blind and uncertain that he would love you.

That scared him more than anything else, despite the fact he knew not every soulmate was romantic. What if you expected love and he didn’t feel anything? Or if he fell in love and all you were looking for was a friend? What would he do then? Fall out of love and in with another, or turn your affections away? That was something he didn’t care for with this whole soulmate thing: too much room for interpretation. As much as he liked picking apart books and projecting his own theories and thoughts onto them, real life was too messy for that. Too unpredictable. Books he could at least search for meaning in without fear of hurting someone else. Real life was terrifying for that. Wonwoo would just make do with reading in the meantime: love could come when it was ready.

Because Wonwoo already knew there was no chance he’d have any real say in the matter.

A few days after Seungkwan found his soulmate, Wonwoo was sure he knew this story by heart. He’d heard him the first time when Mingyu invited him over, listening to the excited way that Seungkwan had recounted the whole shebang like it was no big deal at the moment. Something had felt odd about the way he told it, and later Wonwoo learned that Vernon had been there for pretty much the entire thing. Seungkwan had fluffed it up, saying that Vernon merely punched him hard enough to elicit a response from both Seungkwan and his soulmate, and that the entire exchange had been far more teary than anything else.

Mingyu had been listening, a bit dreamy eyed about the whole thing. He was probably the more openly romantic of the two anyway. “And? How did it feel?”

“It felt right.” Seungkwan said, plain and simple. “Like... I had been waiting for them. Like I came home to something, even if they weren’t my home.”

Wonwoo had merely nodded along to that. A soulmate was supposed to feel like home, then? He wasn’t sure. Maybe that was just the sappy side of Seungkwan speaking for once, enamored with his soulmate already. But he’d by lying if he didn’t notice how much brighter his friend seemed, beaming with a newfound joy at finding this part of his life. Wonwoo tried to tell himself that it was because of his link to them: he doubted he could have gone his entire life feeling someone else’s pain without feeling a weight off his shoulders when he found out that they were just clumsy.

It was during the second time, when Seungkwan and Seokmin had joined Wonwoo and Soonyoung for lunch, that Wonwoo caught the fact that Seungkwan didn’t cry when he met them, but bluntly told them to take better care of themself. He also mentioned that he had to worry about them more, because now he had their number and their name and he could see them whenever he needed to. Despite the slight complaining edge to his voice, Wonwoo could see that Seungkwan was happy to finally know who he’d be looking after--and that his soulmate was thankfully just a klutz--and that he’d be happily seeing them next week, thank you for asking, Soonyoung, and he’d introduce them when he was good and ready. The third time?

Vernon told the story and it made sense. A hard enough kick to Seungkwan’s shin made him yelp, the same blunt comment Seungkwan had recounted the last time, and Vernon made it clear that (while gesturing with a hand that had stitches down one side) Seungkwan realized he came off very strong. Wonwoo became grateful again that he just had his string. But he nodded along, Mingyu and Seungcheol listening closer than he did since they hadn’t been given the crumbs of truth from Seungkwan that Wonwoo had. Maybe it was fated that Vernon telling the story would be what made him notice it.

His string had gone tight again, and it had stayed tight. You were close, wherever you were. If not in this exact coffee-shop, then in a store nearby. He looked down to see the string stretched taut, pointing off in a direction. He could hear Vernon recount how giddy Seungkwan had been on the ride back and to not let the guy fool anyone, he was already enamored with his soulmate (and he could hear Seungcheol tell him to stop fussing with his stitches). He’d commit every detail to memory if this was the day.

So he stood up, gathering his things off the table and apologizing as he booked it, nearly stumbling over his own chair as he went. Mingyu could explain it to them: he’d seen the panicked look Wonwoo would get sometimes when he was actually going to try and follow it. Most of the time he only got so far before the string fell limp again, leaving them to surmise that you were on public transport somewhere, but he always carried that same alert look. He stumbled out of the shop, string already beginning to loosen as he stepped onto the string. With one glance down to tell him the direction, Wonwoo took off down the street.

It’d be useless if you’d gotten into a taxi or onto a bus, but he’d at least have tried again. He let the string of fate guide him, the pale thread taut ahead of him as he took off. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Wonwoo could only assume it was a good luck text from Mingyu. Wonwoo wouldn’t fully be able to tell who you were until he came close enough (he was unlucky enough that his string wasn’t red like some were--instead it was a pretty, soft shade of green), but the string seemed to grow tighter and looser as he ran. He’d find you. He’d waited long enough.

Another buzz made him slow down, reaching into his pocket to see another text from Mingyu--barely getting any time to read it before he crashed straight into someone. He caught himself on the corner of the nearby building, a pop! gaining his attention as that painful feeling in his hand began to dissipate. He looked down at his hand, watching the way the string began to fade little by little, and he looked back to see you.

You’d been kneeling down, a stray cat nuzzling up to your legs as you must have been petting it. A reusable bag of groceries sat on the ground next to you, filled to the brim with necessities. But you, half-knocked over and bracing yourself as best as you could against the pavement, stared up at him with this bewildered look. The cat backed off after a moment, ears flattening slightly as it blinked at him with curious green eyes to try and tell whether he was a friend or a foe. You pouted as you looked over to the little guy, before regaining your footing fully and standing up. Before you turned to greet him, you snagged your bag from the ground.

“Are you okay?” You had asked, reaching up a hand to fiddle with your hair, only to stop when you noticed your own string--growing fainter by the second--that dipped down and directly connected to his. “Oh!”

To say Wonwoo hadn’t thought of this moment would be a flat-out lie. He, like many people, dreamed of the day they’d meet their soulmates. Not everyone did it, sure, but there was something sweet about falling to sleep while thinking of how he’d meet you. What he’d say to you first to make the best impression he could. He’d heard before that he looked cold at first glance, and if you thought the same, he couldn’t tell. Every word he had planned out, every hopefully smooth greeting had evaporated into thin air, filed away into that special corner of his brain for him to revisit later when all was said and done. All he could do was extend his hand to you, and say “I’m Wonwoo.”

Simple, he decided, and effective enough. Told you all you needed to know, ordinary as it was. After all, you already knew the other important thing about him.

With a smile, you introduced yourself in turn as you took his hand. It was then that Wonwoo suddenly realized what Seungkwan meant when he said everything seemed to feel right. Like the cat you’d been petting--did you like cats? He hoped you did. It was cheesy and maybe rash, but Wonwoo wondered if the two of you would have a cat one day. A home, a life, a something together that you could call yours.

“You know,” you started, this mischievous glint in your eyes, “you should really watch where you’re going, soulmate. Following strings blindly could get you hurt.”

All he could do was smile, “It led me to you.”

Oh that pretty smile. “That it did.” You let your bag slip down from your shoulder, reaching inside to pull out a folded up list. You removed the pen attached to it, reaching out to take his palm in your hand, where you wrote your name and number in deep black ink. “You should call me sometime, soulmate.” He already loved the pretty lift in your voice when you said it, despite the way it made his heart skip a beat and his face heat up. The string connecting the two of you had faded to barely visible, but he could still feel it.

Wonwoo didn’t believe in love at first sight. But you at least made him feel a sweet warmth in his chest. Like this could work out--and it made him want to try. “I will,” he promised you quietly.

“Good,” you stepped back. “Then I’ll see you soon, Wonwoo.”

You walked away with your little bag of groceries, and with it you walked away with a little piece of his heart. Maybe he could do this. Love at first sight was still a myth...

... But fondness for another person? That could bud within its own right. All it took was a tug on his heartstrings to get that growing.

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x you

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missywritesfor7 · 8 months

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🌺 Promise Flower | PJM 🌺

Synopsis: Jimin is a popular dance student and the best one at his university. Mina is a photography student and has known Jimin since high school. An idea for a photo project finds Mina getting closer to him than she ever has before. She learns how big his heart is, but also learns how closely he guards it. Every time she thinks he'll let her in, he pulls away again. Is it even worth the trouble?

Pairing: college student!Jimin x fem!oc

Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attacks, alcoholism

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

|| Ch. 13: Green Eyes ||

We’re not a couple.

Jimin and I are not a couple.

We just spend every moment we can with each other. I take him to physical therapy and we watch dramas together. We have lunch together on the days our class schedules allow, and we have dinner together on most days.

We’re not a couple though.

I can tell he still gets jealous when Tae is brought up.

“You have to answer him right away every time?”

“Why isn’t he at his apartment?”

“How long have you known him? Not as long as you’ve known me, right?”

It’s like he has a Tae-radar or something. Every time my phone goes off he instantly starts pouting. Even if he doesn’t say anything I know what he’s thinking, and I know he’ll be vying for my attention if I spend too much time looking at my phone.

He’ll lean over and rest his head on my lap to get me to run my fingers through his hair. He’ll nestle his face into my neck to get me to wrap my arms around him. At times he’ll even pull me into his lap and he’ll begin running his fingers through my hair, knowing how much I enjoy it.

He’s never over the top about it, and he doesn’t directly say that he has a bit of insecurity when it comes to Tae, but he doesn’t hide it very well either.

The end of the semester is near and my photo project is due at the end of the week. After that I’ll have a week of studying endlessly before finals week. Once that’s over I’ll be able to breathe and I can’t wait.

With that, Tae and I have been spending more time at my place working on finalizing our projects. We give each other feedback and make adjustments so we can make sure everything is perfect. This project counts for a lot and could mean the difference between passing and failing the entire class, so we’re a bit stressed.

Jimin texts me a lot when I’m not with him which is great because Taylor is constantly texting Tae, and watching him smile at his phone every two seconds can get a bit sickening. But it’s also really cute.

The two of them seem to be made for each other. They haven’t made themselves openly official just yet, claiming to enjoy the anonymity of their relationship, but they’re adorable. I just wish they didn’t come to my place for refuge so much. They promise to pay me back in their own way once they’re able to get their own place together, which won’t be until the start of the new year. They both have awful roommates so I’m happy for them to finally move out.

Thursday night Tae stays over at my place, this time without Taylor who’s been stressing about finals. Tae felt that they would just stress each other out if they were together right now. Tae is stressed as well and says he doesn’t want to pile his stress onto Taylor’s. I ask why he’s at my place piling his stress onto mine and his response is because I have good snacks. He’s such a pain in the ass and he’s lucky I love him.

The next morning we gather all of our things to turn in and head to class. We’re both a ball of nerves, but once we give our presentations and turn everything in we breathe a sigh of relief. I’m sure we did fine and have nothing to worry about, but I guess the nervousness is natural when it comes to classes.

We celebrate by having lunch at our usual table in the cafe. We still have a lot of studying to do for our other classes, but right now we just want to take it easy. I’ll study next week, I just want to enjoy this weekend.

As we’re chatting and eating, Jimin enters the cafe and notices us at the table.

“Hey,” he says walking over and taking a seat next to me. “What are you guys up to?”

“Nothing, just having lunch and breathing a little relief now that we have our projects turned in,” I reply. “What are you up to?”

“Getting a bite to eat.”

I can’t help but notice his hand making its way to my thigh. And caressing it softly. He’s positioned himself quite close to me and with a cheeky smirk he snakes his arm around my midsection taking me a bit by surprise.

He’s never openly shown any type of physical affection towards me in public. I don’t know why he’s suddenly doing it now, but I can see Tae raise a suspicious eyebrow and I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Shouldn’t you go order then?” I ask with a smile, but also giving him a look of what are you doing?

“I’m going,” he chuckles, making sure to run his hand across my entire back before getting up to go to the counter.

“Not a couple?” Tae says still holding his eyebrow high.

“Don’t start,” I say trying to avoid the conversation.

We’ve been going back and forth for weeks about Jimin and I not being a couple. No matter what I say, Tae is convinced that we are even if Jimin and I haven’t even discussed the topic.

“You know this isn’t helping your case of denial,” he says cocking his head to the side.

“Shut up.”

“He was practically all over you just now.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I just watched it with my own big eyes, Mina!”

“Ugh!”

“Why won’t you just accept it?”

“We haven’t even talked about it. I can’t go around saying we’re a couple without talking to him first.”

“I don’t think he needs you to talk about. He just made it clear as day.”

“Taehyung, I will throw a fork at you if you don’t hush.”

“Ok fine. If he comes back and he doesn’t put his hands on you then I’ll never bring it up again. I’ll even let you throw your fork at me.”

“Deal,” I say holding my fork menacingly and giving him an angry but playful scowl. He gives me a smirk as if he’s already won and nods.

Jimin returns to the table with his food and instantly rests his hand on my thigh while digging in to his salad with his other hand. Tae smirks in amusement and I’m considering throwing my fork at him anyway.

“So do you two have any plans for the day?” Tae asks.

“She’s taking me to my physical therapy appointment later,” Jimin answers before I can open my mouth. He turns to me with a big smile. “Maybe we’ll watch a movie later and I’ll get us something nice for dinner.”

“Um yeah,” I say trying to read his face. He’s looking at me like he wants to eat me more than any type of dinner. He turns back to Taehyung and leans his body closer to mine.

“Do you have any plans tonight?” Jimin asks with a bit of sass in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Tae hesitates. He twists his face a brief moment and then raises his suspicious brow again.

“Hey!” Taylor enters the cafe and greets us causing a big smile to creep across Tae’s face. “Having a party without me?”

“We’re just having lunch,” Tae says. “Sit. Chat with us.” He pulls out the chair next to him and looks at me with a smirk. I can just hear the gears turning in his head. He’s up to something.

“How’s your therapy going?” Taylor asks Jimin.

“Great,” he answers with enthusiasm. “My flexibility is getting better.”

“That’s good,” Taylor smiles. “We miss having you in class.”

“I miss it too.” Even with Taylor at the table, Jimin doesn’t put any distance between us. His hand is still caressing my thigh and he feeds me a few bites of his salad periodically.

“So, how long have you two been together?” Taylor asks with a shit eating grin much to Tae’s amusement. I’m going to need another fork to throw.

“Well we-“ I start.

“We should all go out for dinner tomorrow!” Tae says cutting me off.

“What?” I ask caught off guard by his sudden suggestion.

“All four of us!” He looks at Taylor and then Jimin. “It’ll be like a double date!” He’s way too enthusiastic about this.

“A double date?” Jimin asks seemingly confused. “You two are together?”

“Yup!” Tae and Taylor say in unison.

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“Well we haven’t actually announced it to the world,” Taylor laughs. “But we kind of like it this way. Something about being mysterious makes it more exciting.”

“Oh,” Jimin says processing the information he just heard. Then he smiles. “I’m really happy for you!”

“So tomorrow night. All of us. Double date. Fun times.” Tae says winking at me with that big boxy smile. He’s a menace and he knows it and if he didn’t reach across the table to remove my fork from my hand I would have hurled it at his head.

“Sounds good to me,” Jimin says looking at me with a big bright smile. I guess I can’t back out of this now.

Tae and Taylor continue chatting with us a little longer before heading off to Taylor’s place. Jimin and I go back to his place until it’s time for his therapy appointment. I won’t say that I’m bothered by his sudden public show of affection, but I’m definitely confused.

“What was that about?” I ask laying on my stomach across his bed and cuddling with Blossom.

“What?” He asks laying next to me.

“The…” I wave my hands in the air. “Everything? The touching and affection. In public. In front of Tae and Taylor.”

“I didn’t know they were together,” he says avoiding my question.

“Yeah, and they’ve been driving me crazy,” I chuckle. “They’re cute together though.”

“Yeah they are,” he agrees.

“You didn’t answer my question though.”

“Dinner with them tomorrow should be fun.”

“Jimin!”

“Mina,” he smirks. He knows what he’s doing and he’s enjoying it.

“Dammit, Jimin, come on!” I whine.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “If you don’t want me to I won’t touch you anymore.”

“Well no, that’s not what I said. I’m just confused.”

“So you want me to keep touching you?” He scoots closer to me pulling Blossom out of my arms and sliding his hand around my waist to pull me closer.

“You’re still not answering my question. You’ve never shown affection towards me like that in public before. Why now?”

“I thought you looked cute today.”

“Jimin.”

“And I haven’t seen you much this week.”

“Jimin!”

Before he can say anything else my phone goes off. I start to roll to my side to pull my phone out of my pocket, but he tightens his grip and pulls me closer to him.

“Is it important?” He asks with a low growl.

“I don’t know,” I say suddenly nervous. “It’s probably Tae.”

“He can wait.”

“Jimin,” I whisper trying my hardest to maintain my composure under his suddenly dominating gaze. “What are you doing?”

His intense stare makes my heart race. The longer he hesitates to respond the less I’m able to breathe. He thinks a bit while biting his bottom lip. I would love to say fuck it and just kiss him right now.

“I’m just enjoying your company,” he says loosening his grip on me.

“But earlier…”

“We should get ready to go soon.” He jumps up from the bed and steps into the bathroom leaving me there with more questions than I started with.

He’s just enjoying my company? What does that even mean? Is he trying to take things further with us? But then he pulled back as if he changed his mind. He was just all over me at the cafe, what was that all about?

I pull my phone out of my pocket and as I figured it was Tae texting me.

[Tae]: Now that he knows Taylor and I are together maybe he won’t be so jealous of me anymore 😌

[Me]: Jealous of you?

[Tae]: Come on it was so obvious!

[Tae]: I thought he was being weird at first but then I could tell he was just jealous.

[Me]: You’re crazy.

[Me]: But I think you’re right.

[Tae]: I’m taking a screenshot of this moment 📸

[Me]: 🖕

The way he left little to no space between us. The way he seemed to try making it incredibly obvious that something was between us, though I’m not entirely sure what. The way he spoke to Tae with a bit of sass in his tone. The way he looked almost as if he was bragging when he mentioned us having dinner and watching a movie tonight.

It wasn’t until Jimin realized Tae and Taylor were together that he started to lighten his tone a bit. He was still physically affectionate, but his sass disappeared.

So why did he pull away just now? He acted like he was trying to make a point, as if he was letting everyone, Tae especially, know that I belong to him. Why won’t he just make it happen? Why put up that front but then act like it’s nothing when I ask him about it?

After all he’s told me, I don’t believe him to be the type of person to just toy with me for shits and giggles, but he still leaves me so confused. I thought when he opened up to me about his past that he wouldn’t close himself off from me any longer, but he always comes just short of taking that next step. He has a way of skirting around the subject when I bring it up. I’ll admit I’m not that great at being direct with him about it, I thought I’d be able to ease into the conversation somehow but apparently not.

I don’t seem to have a choice anymore. I’ll have to be direct with him. I don’t know how much longer I can go on without having a clear definition of what our relationship is.

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pantsusnifferr · 1 year

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2021 best of post!

I procrastinated so hard last year when i was about to do my 2021 reflection! Now that i am thinking back on it, my memory’s a mess and im starting to confuse things that have happened in 2020 with those that happened in 2021. I will to the best of my ability, try to remember the biggest highlights of 2021 while writing my reflection of 2022 in a seperate post. Highlights of 2021 1. Went out of my way to watch fireworks with my sister on Jan 1 even though i didn’t feel like it. I remember i wanted to have less regrets and i definately felt like that was one step worth taking. 2. Went out of my comfort zone and decided to go out with a couple of people i met online! Definately not an unpleasant experience for sure, but i still feel like i have a lot of grow, it was something i felt like i needed and something i never thought i’d ever have the patience to do. 3. Continued HEMA and made my first sparring montage and entered my first tournament! HEMA has became such a big part of my life back in 2021, I am so glad i started it back during the end of 2020, i remember the social anxiety i felt and the apprehension before i stepped through the doors of Bastion. But I am so glad i did! It was exciting, it was something that i look forward to every week of the day, it was my obssession and something i love. I remember going to different clubs, eventually finding Oriflamme and learning italian longsword. And i concluded that year with Bashfest! My first tournament where i absolutely got wrecked haha. (But i didn’t come in last.)

4. Made geniune friends with people from HEMA, maybe E was right, perhaps i am not giving people enough chances back then. But I was glad i did, it started with going out to eat at that okonomiyaki place at the new year’s eve. And we became close and fast friends ever since. It is sad that circumstances have changed and we’ve all drifted apart, but it gives me a little hope that i’m still able to form meaningful friendships with people if i were to give them a chance.

5. Managed to diffuse a situation with a difficult and crazy business relation. I never want to deal with someone like that again, the length of time we spent on him and the amount of stress we’ve got just isn’t worth it. I was so close to quitting the entire thing but thankfully we managed to resolve everything amiciably. And the dude moved on to selling other plants, he’s someone else’s problem now. 6. Sold my switch and got an OLED switch! Isn’t really a highlight but i actually started playing it a lot more! Turns out having the ability to dock it to my PC is something i sorely needed! 7. Received my full hema kit! Too bad the jacket couldn’t fit me properly though. 8. Upgraded my PC! 9. Painted many fencing masks for myseld and my clubmates! 10. Acheived a 4.0 for my GPA. I got no idea if this is the start of me taking my studies more seriously or the start of all my unecessary stress, i still have to thank my friends who helped me out with my studies and exams though! 11. I got my vtuber model fully rigged and animated! I wasn’t satisfied with it fully so i continued to sit on it for almost 6 months before i did anything with it in 2022. A few people were essential to this step of mine, i was excited and really happy that i might actually get a chance to scratch this creative itch of mine. Too bad i fell out with one of my ‘teachers’ though. 12. bought a VR headset! 13. made a lot of shorterform videos for the company 14. was deep into fitness and diet, i managed to consistently exercise and be slightly healthier during this period. 15. Did our first live zoom workshop with gardens by the bay! managed to intergrate my streaming techniques and equipement for work! I am glad i am able to apply some of my interests to work this way. 16. Reconnected with El and RK from my AirForce days, glad to know that these guys always got my back. 17. started trying to put myself out there. 18. started investing...with mixed success.. 19. Got my feder and my rapier this year! 20. Reservist lmao, useless stay home do nothing, but i did have a nice long chat with people i used to know back during my time in service.

#2021 bestof year in review

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havenoffandoms · 3 years

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Hey congrats on 900 followers! Would I be able to request the touch starved prompt from your list with the pairing Aiden/Lambert please? Love all your writing!

Hello!! Thanks for requesting this prompt and this pairing! I’ve been on a right Lambden kick recently, so I felt inspired. I hope you like it!

Prompt 13: Touch-Starved

Pairing: Aiden x Lambert

Warnings: None

Prompt List

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together. Being stabbed to death in his sleep comes to mind, or having Aiden go all batshit crazy if Lambert dared to beat him at Gwent. Lambert has heard many rumours about Cat witchers in his long life. Cats are batshit crazy. Cats are emotionally volatile. Cats are backstabbing sons of bitches… literally and metaphorically. Cats are bad. Cats are evil, etc, etc. All these rumours circulated in Kaer Morhen long before Lambert even set foot in that ramshackle castle. He was too young to have witnessed the Tournament, but he heard the older witchers talk. Later in his life, when only a handful of wolf witchers were left after the sacking, Eskel gave Lambert a more detailed account of the Tournament.

“The Cats betrayed us, went on a rampage. Killed many wolf witchers in the process. Geralt and I lost many friends that day,” Eskel told him one evening, when the oldest surviving wolf was too far in his cup to notice that he was oversharing. “Radowit’s court mage Astrogarus promised the Cats monopoly on killing monsters within Kaedwen in exchange for attacking the Wolves during the tournament. Turns out Radowit was a backstabbing motherfucker himself. He ordered his soldiers to shoot all of the remaining witchers of both schools in the arena.”

“Lemme guess,” Lambert spoke, his own speech slightly slurred, “pretty boy saved the day?”

Eskel shook his head. “Fled. Mousesack helped him escape the massacre. Poor bastard never forgave himself for abandonin’ our brothers, but what choice did he have?”

Don’t get Lambert wrong. He’s not saying that Aiden is harmless, far from it. The guy’s lethal with his swords, deadly with a pair of daggers, not to mention a stealthy and clever thief. Aiden is mercurial, hot-tempered and a bit feral when he wants to be, and his morals are at best dubious. Whereas wolf witchers had their emotions beaten out of them at a young age, cat witchers feel too much, too strongly. Lambert’s witnessed Aiden flip tables when peasants beat him at Gwent, but he’s also witnessed the Cat shed a tear after bringing the news to a mother that her son did not survive the ghoul attack two villages down the road.

Lambert was apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but the Cat had never ceased to surprise him. The most unexpected trait Aiden has displayed to date is his insatiable need for physical contact. It’s not like Lambert hates being touched - he’s only human, albeit a mutated one, but still human. He enjoys a hug as much as the next person, especially when said hug comes from one of his brothers (or, dare he say, Vesemir) at the end of a long and difficult year on the Path. Lambert has also never begrudged a bed partner a post-coital cuddle session. Aiden’s need for physical contact is… on a whole different level.

The first time it happened, Lambert almost shoved the Cat off him and sent him packing, until he realised that Aiden was not only hugging him, but clinging onto him. His sharp nails were digging in the soft material of Lambert’s shirt, the fabric creaking in protest under the firm grip. When Lambert looked down, he noticed the pinched eyebrows and tears trailing down Aiden’s face. It wasn’t until a broken sob pushed past the Cat’s lips that Lambert reluctantly returned the embrace, arms wound tightly around Aiden’s trembling body. Aiden eventually settled in the safety of Lambert’s arms, his features softening as he sank back into a peaceful slumber.

Neither mentioned the previous evening’s impromptu cuddling session, but from that moment one, it was like someone had flicked a switch. Aiden came up with every possible fucking excuse to touch Lambert. Their hands would always accidentally graze each other when they packed up camp, or tacked up the horses. Aiden would bump shoulders with him when they were travelling on foot. If they sat next to one another in a tavern, Aiden would press his leg against Lambert’s, and if they were facing each other, a tentative foot would gently nudge Lambert’s shin and linger there. It’s not like Aiden was trying to hide his intentions, either. They rarely paid for two rooms anymore, because even if they did, Aiden would always end up in Lambert’s bed anyway, arms wound around Lambert’s body like a koala clinging to its mother.

Lambert doesn’t hate Aiden’s need for physical proximity, he’s just… confused by it. Aiden rarely takes any lovers to bed, even though he clearly craves physical intimacy. Lambert is more than happy to cuddle with Aiden, especially when they are forced to sleep under the stars and the early autumn frosts begin to settle over the region. It saves them from lighting a campfire, which may attract the wrong kind of attention to them. That’s all that’s ever transpired between the two, though… cuddling. Lambert enjoys the cuddling as much as Aiden does, but for Aiden it seems to be about more than mere enjoyment. The Cat simply refuses to go without physical intimacy which at times can be… alright, it can feel overbearing, but Lambert’s not about to complain, not when most humans turn away from him in disgust and contempt when he tries to chat them up.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Aiden almost develops a form of separation anxiety. He refuses to let Lambert out of his sight, going so far as to follow the man everywhere, and that’s the moment when Lambert snaps.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he asks, his tone hiding none of the irritation he feels at being tailed by this overgrown tomcat. Aiden stops dead in his tracks, his eyes growing wide at Lambert’s words.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been following me since this morning… I have errands to run and it’s hard to do that when you’re breathing down my neck!”

Lambert instantly regrets his words the minute they leave his mouth. Aiden’s shoulders visibly sag at Lambert’s comment, his content expression melting into something sadder and the sight tugs at the wolf’s heartstrings in all the wrong ways. Aiden averts Lambert’s eyes shyly, the tip of his ears turning a pretty shade of pink as embarrassment washes over him. Lambert heaves a sigh. Way to act like a fucking dick.

“Sorry, Aiden. I… I didn’t mean to sound like an ass, but-”

“It’s alright, I… I knew this moment would come eventually.”

“What are you talking about?” Lambert asks, a confused frown etched on his face. Aiden doesn’t look at him when he replies in a voice far too small to belong to the lethal, cocky witcher Lambert has come to know over the past few months.

“You’re gonna ask me to leave for good. I get it. I… I’ll go back to the room and pack my things.”

As Aiden turns around to leave, Lambert’s hand shoots out and grabs a hold of Aiden’s wrist. Before Lambert’s brain has a chance to catch up, he finds himself pulling Aiden into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes of judgemental humans meandering the stalls of the midweek market. Aiden looks so unsure now, so vulnerable like this, and it makes Lambert want to wrap the Cat up in warm blankets and cuddle him and forget the world for a while. Instead, he settles on pressing Aiden’s back against the wall and draping himself around the Cat witcher as much as he can.

“That’s not what I meant,” Lambert breathes in the air pocket between them as he locks eyes with Aiden, “you’ve just been… especially clingy recently. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Aiden averts his eyes once again, but Lambert is quick to grip the other man’s chin and force Aiden to meet his gaze. Even that simple touch pulls a small hiss from Aiden, whose eyes flutter shut as he relishes in the feeling of Lambert touching him anywhere. Lambert purses his lips, eager for an answer.

“Aiden-”

“Winter is around the corner,” Aiden whispers, his tongue darting out to lick his suddenly dry lips. Lambert’s frown deepens.

“And?”

His question is met with a pointed eye roll from Aiden.

“And… wolves return to their dens for winter, don’t they? I was just… enjoying the last few weeks in your company before you leave and never come back.”

As the final piece of the puzzle slots into place, understanding dawns on Lambert. He pulls away from Aiden and the small whimper the loss of contact triggers does not go unnoticed. Something old and fragile aches in Lambert’s chest as the meaning of Aiden’s words sink in. Aiden isn’t just worried about being separated from Lambert for a few months, but he’s worried that Lambert will never come back.The wolf links his fingers with his Cat’s, squeezing softly as he leans into Aiden’s space and rubs his bearded cheek against Aiden’s jawline. The latter quickly melts under the soft ministrations, the soft content rumble deepening into a continuous purr as Lambert nuzzles the crook of Aiden’s neck.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Yeah, right,” Aiden snorts in response, “cause you’re so good with feelings and shit.”

“Not everyone’s a sappy sentimental bitch like you are,” Lambert teases gently, earning himself a half-hearted slap up the back of the head. “I don’t have to go back to Kaer Morhen this winter.”

Aiden tenses, his soft purring stopping abruptly as he takes in Lambert’s words. Lambert continues to rub his cheek against Aiden’s jaw, his neck, his cheek… wherever he can reach, the action meant to soothe the brewing storm in Aiden’s mind.

“It’s your home,” Aiden offers weakly, “I don’t want… I… it’s your home.”

“I can send a letter to the old man. Let him know I’m alive. We could find a den somewhere else… an attic somewhere, or an abandoned castle.” Lambert nuzzles the spot right behind Aiden’s ear, earning a pleased hum from the Cat. “Or you could come with me.”

“Sure. Cause that’s gonna end well…”

“That’s settled then. I’m spending winter with you.”

Aiden pushes Lambert away, their eyes meeting once again but this time, Aiden searches for any trace of a lie in Lambert’s amber gaze. He finds none, because Lambert is one hundred percent honest in his offer. He would ditch Vesemir, Geralt and Eskel for a year to spend it with Aiden… and the thought should scare him more than it does, truthfully. He’s only known the Cat for a few months, and yet… well, maybe Lambert was dreading the winter as well. How about that? It’s not like he felt equally anxious about leaving Aiden, it’s just… fuck off.

“You mean that?”

“Mhm. Fair warning… I hate the cold. If I’m spending the winter with you, you’ll have to find a way to keep me warm or I will bite your head off.”

In Aiden’s defence, he does keep Lambert warm all winter long. Their cuddling finally turns into something more, and from the moment Lambert and Aiden cross that fateful line there is no going back. Aiden becomes insatiable, always seeking Lambert’s body in some shape or form, never letting the wolf out of his sight again. Lambert may have been apprehensive about many things concerning Aiden when the two started travelling together, but it turns out that all his worries were for nothing. Turns out Cat witchers are still crazy, and feral, and mercurial… a tad possessive as well, something Lambert doesn’t hate... but they’re also the cuddliest sons of bitches on the Continent.

Lambert can live with that, he thinks.

Request a prompt.

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alltooreid · 3 years

Text

Call It What You Want

Everyone around them is trying to discover the true nature of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship. Little do they know Y/N is trying to figure out the exact same thing.

A/N: Sorry this took a lot longer than I wanted it to.... Mental health is hard but here it is!! I hope you guys love it :)) Additionally I added a lil garvez to this... but for it to work with the timeline we’re all just gonna pretend Lisa doesn’t exist... ok great!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (with a little splash of implied Garvez content for my personal joy)

Requested?: Yes!! :)) “can you do a one shot based off call it what you want??”

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 3K

Content Warnings: None!

“My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene Loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to”

The team was sure something was going on between Y/N and Spencer, they just weren’t sure how to prove it.

Every sign pointed to the two dating, but the pair hadn’t said anything about it. Maybe they were trying to keep it a secret, but at the same time they didn’t appear to be being very secretive about it.

So ever since Penelope saw Y/N giving Spencer a ride home a week ago, she has been determined to uncover the truth, and hopefully the truth was her two best friends were in the world’s cutest, most perfect relationship.

She was using her technical brilliance to gather data when she was caught by none other than Luke Alvez.

“What are you doing in here?”

“This is my job Luke, I have to be in here,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I know that! I mean what are you doing right now, we don’t have a case.” he smirked “Are you committing any cyber crimes? You know you could get in a lot of trouble for those, the FBI won’t help you. You should let me help.”

She smiled, “You do know I got my job here from committing cyber crimes right? I don’t think I would need your help. Besides, I’m working on a personal project.” After some thought she decided Luke might actually be helpful “I’m trying to find out if Spencer and Y/N are dating.”

“I swear I saw them leaving together yesterday, that seems like pretty good evidence! I could be very helpful to you.”

“I’m way ahead of you, but I guess you can help,” she pulled up a new tab, quickly constructing a timeline while Luke pulled a chair next to her. “So our favorite pair’s relationship would, based on my intense experimentation and surveying, begin here,” she traced a circle around the start of the timeline with her cursor, “on that night we went out after the case and then wouldn’t stop talking to each other.”

Luke and Penelope discussed all the things they saw that led them to believe that Y/N and Spencer were more than just friends, from how keen Y/N was to listen to anything that came out of Spencer’s mouth no matter how difficult to follow, to Spencer’s willingness to touch her. After about 15 minutes however they were interrupted by none other than Y/N herself. Penelope quickly switched tabs, so that it now appeared she was just showing Luke a funny kitten video.

“Hey guys! What are you doing in here?” “Oh you know, just wasting time. . . What’s up?” said Luke.

“I was just checking to see if you wanted to go to lunch! If you have any opinions as to where that would be great too because no one out there can make a decision . . .”

“Of course I want lunch! I’ll be out there in just a sec,” Penelope smiled and started closing her work done as soon as Y/N left, almost forgetting Luke’s presence.

“Um, Penelope?”

“What is it Luke?”

“Do you think you’d ever do anything like what Y/N and Spencer are doing?” he asked.

“Like what? Keep a secret? You know I’m terrible at that stuff.”

“No, no I mean like . . .” he took a deep breath, “You know, like dating a coworker?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Now hurry up and come to lunch, we can keep working afterwards,” she replied.

Luke awkwardly smiled, and they both left.

Little did Luke and Penelope know that as they debated and pieced together aspects of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship, trying to uncover if they were dating, Y/N was doing the exact same thing.

Her and Spencer had been on three dates, each more boyfriend and girlfriend than the last. They got coffee one day, then went to a movie, then a nice restaurant for dinner. Tonight Spencer wanted to keep it a surprise, but that just made her even more confused.

Sometimes her and Spencer would sit next to each other at the round table, and now when they did that he would reach over, not to hold her hand, but just to link their pinkies together.

She didn’t know what that meant.

Sometimes Y/N would go on a tangent and realize she had been talking for almost an hour about nothing in particular, and when she realized Spencer was the only one still listening would apologize for wasting his time. To which he would reply, “Why would I be upset about spending time with you?” She didn’t know what that meant.

And one time, on her and Spencer’s first “date” they were about to part their separate directions, and Y/N had no idea what to do with her body or her hands, Spencer wrapped her into a hug, and she swore she felt his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She really didn’t know what that meant.

Which is why she continued to let Penelope and Luke have their fun trying to decipher her and Spencer’s social cues. She knew as soon as she was about to enter to ask about lunch, Penelope was not exactly quiet and Luke wasn’t any better, but she let them believe they were being sneaky.

Besides, maybe if they found the answer they could let her know.

When the team returned from lunch she couldn’t help but continue to contemplate this issue further, Spencer hadn’t really said anything to her at lunch. Were they still just friends? Were they dating but not telling anyone? Were they going to tell anyone?

“Y/N! Are you excited to hang out tonight?” Spencer asked.

Hang out. So it definitely was not a date. . .

“Of course! Right after work right? Your place?”

“Yep! It’s a date,” he smiled and walked away, leaving Y/N in a state of confused panic. What was this? For someone so logical and scientific, Y/N wished that Spencer Reid would just tell her the kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, and genus of their relationship.

Maybe then she could stop dissecting it to try and figure it out.

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

As Y/N stood outside Spencer’s apartment building, she struggled to muster up courage to go inside. It’s not that she was nervous to hang out with Spencer, it was just Y/N knew she needed to have the “what are we” talk with him for her own personal sanity. And she just wasn’t sure yet what his answer would be.

She had made her way into the building and gotten to Spencer’s floor when she ran into the man of the hour himself.

“Oh there you are! I was about to come down and get you,” he said.

Y/N glanced at her phone, “I’m sorry, am I late?”

“No, no, no. You’re perfect, I just got excited.”

That confused Y/N even more, she couldn’t decide if that leaned more towards friend or date territory. However all of her anxieties were forgotten for a moment as soon as she entered Spencer’s apartment.

Almost all the lights were off, except for several strings of lights shaped like stars, strung in different directions across the room. In the corner were several folded up blankets and sheets, and pillows were spread out across the room.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, although if I’m being honest I don’t really know what it is . . .”

“13 months ago we were on a case, the one were the unsub was killing couples when they went out camping so that no one would look for them for days, and you said that you used to go camping all the time but you didn’t think you could go anymore. So I bought stuff so we could go camping together, right here.”

Y/N was left almost speechless, “I- I don’t even know what to say, Spencer this is incredible.”

He beamed, instantly satisfied with that answer. “I tried to find a tent, but all of the stores I went to said I should order one online . . . I figured it would be more fun to build a fort instead.”

Spencer brought over the supplies he had bought and gathered, various sheets and comforters, pillows, his leather couch cushions, sleeping bags, a large collection of clothes pins, and some more lights. Except Spencer left a single bag in the pile, the only one from a craft store.

“Do you want me to grab that one?” Y/N asked.

“Oh um, no don’t worry about that one. I saw something stupid on that site JJ and Garcia really like while I was passing JJ’s desk. . . Pinterest? Yes that’s it. And I tried to make it but even though I memorized the instructions I couldn’t get it to work. . . I kind of just gave up and threw everything in there.”

“Can I try it?”

He nodded, and Y/N got up and glanced into the bag, in it was a push light, warm toned tissue paper and a couple empty paper towel rolls, all stuck together, but also somehow falling apart. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, “Were you trying to build me a campfire Dr. Reid?”

“Well you said that your family used to have this big bonfire every year, and that it used to be one of your favorite traditions until you couldn’t handle going anymore, so I thought I could make one that would be a little safer for you. Turns out that you actually need four PHDs to be good at crafts though.”

“Spencer this whole date is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me . . . Thank you.”

“Of course, I really want you to enjoy yourself when you're around me Y/N.”

“Spencer, I’ve never not enjoyed myself when I’m around you, and you were with me when I got shot. You’re my favorite person, you do know that right?”

He blushed, “You’re my favorite person too Y/N.”

So the two lovers built a blanket fort, draping sheets over string lights and shoving the inside full of pillows and blankets, giggling the entire time. Y/N taught Spencer the simplicity of DIY projects, and how sometimes the directions needed to be adjusted slightly based on personal preferences and ability. Soon the pair were cuddled up together on the ground, no other space to be except for right next to each other, as the rest of the fort was covered by snacks, pillows, their homemade campfire, and Spencer’s vinyl record player.

“Did you do this on purpose? Making me be so close to you?”

“No, I would never, it’s not my fault this area is so small . . . “

“Mhm, although I’m sure a genius like you could figure out how to make an adult sized fort, I’m very glad you didn’t,” she said, giggling and squishing herself closer to him. They smiled and kissed each other, before Spencer spoke.

“You make me so, unbelievably, happy. I never thought I could feel like this until we met Y/N.”

Y/N smiled even bigger, “Spencer I really, really like you,” she paused, it was now or never, “but um, what do you want to call this, like what we’re doing.”

“Well what do you want this to be? Because I want you to be my girlfriend.”

She smiled, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Well then that’s what we’ll be,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

“Well you do know the team, particularly Penelope and Luke have the exact same question.”

“Well I think more than Luke wondering if we’re dating, I think he’s just wondering if Penelope will date him. . . So I say let them have their fun for a little while, before we tell everyone.”

She smiled, “Perfect. They’re profilers, they’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Well, I think we should watch a movie. . . Although I mostly enjoy my cinema in Russian, tonight is about you and I don’t want to give you a headache. What’s your favorite?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I promise I will not laugh at you darling.”

“High School Musical 3.”

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

So Y/N spent the rest of that night explaining the plot of the first two High School Musical movies, then explaining why the third one was the clear winner, and then finally showing Spencer the third one off of her phone, where she had it saved to her cloud for emergencies.

And although singing and dancing adults pretending to be teenagers was not exactly Spencer’s favorite genre, he loved how happy the series as a whole made Y/N. So he latched onto it, and learned as much as he could about it.

One particular scene however, in one of the earlier films, seemed to make Y/N extra excited, as she spent the longest amount of time talking about it. So Spencer decided he knew exactly what to do to prove to her he was in this relationship for the long haul.

Spencer could tell she was anxious before their date, and it didn’t take him long to guess that it was because she didn’t know how serious everything was to him. Yet, he didn’t want to be too obvious that he wanted her to be his, because if he had assessed wrong he would make a complete fool out of himself.

But when she asked him, she seemed so nervous, so small, he knew he had made a mistake in waiting, and now he wanted to make it up to her.

So as she was walking in the next day he caught her. “Y/N!”

“Hi Spencer! What’s up?”

“I have a present for you. . .” he said, handing her a small box wrapped in shiny gold paper.

“For me? Why?”

“Oh you know, just because. . .”

As Y/N unwrapped the box, Spencer got more and more nervous… What if she hated it? What if she thought it was stupid or too soon or didn’t get it or-

“Oh my god Spencer I-”

“You know what it’s stupid, I don’t even know why I got it for you. I can return it and find you something you’ll actually like-”

“I love it Spencer, it’s perfect. Will you put it on me?”

Spencer hooked the chain around his new girlfriend’s neck, the small “S” pendant shining in the light.

“It’s like Gabriella’s. . . I love it. I can’t believe you would care to remember something like that…”

“Of course I would remember that. I have an eidetic memory. Did you know that although the original purpose and origin of initial jewelry was largely unknown, they date back to the 14th century?”

“No, I just mean… It’s very thoughtful Spencer.”

He smiled, “Well I’m sorry to kill the mood, but I really have to go to the bathroom. I drank 3 cups of coffee this morning and I was standing here waiting for you for 18 minutes and 4 seconds before you came in.”

She laughed, and then hugged him, “Well don’t just stand here! Go!”

Spencer ran off, leaving Y/N to walk into the bullpen alone. As Y/N was making her way to her desk, she was stopped by none other than Penelope Garcia and Luke Alvez, Penelope up front, Luke standing a foot or so behind her, ready to back her up.

“Y/N! We know your secret, you and Spencer are secretly dating. . . We figured it out this morning. You can’t hide from us anymore,” Penelope said, Luke nodding behind her.

“Well yeah we’re dating, but it’s not a secret.”

“What? Excuse me? You haven’t told anyone!”

“Yeah but we haven’t really made any effort to hide it? We told everyone about the time we went to the movies?”

“Yeah but- Um, we just thought we were being sneaky. . .” Penelope said.

“You might wanna get a little better at that guys, the Bat Cave is not soundproof.”

“Dang it, I really need to work on that…” Penelope said. “Well Luke Alvez, I suppose our quest has been conquered.”

“See! We were right, I told you I’m great help,” Luke said.

“Oh don’t get it too twisted, this was almost all me.”

After a moment of playful banter, Y/N stopped them “So when are you two going to start “secretly” dating huh?”

“Uh hmph, I don’t know what you talking about. I would never,” Penelope said.

At that moment, Spencer returned from the bathroom, and came up upon Y/N hugging her from behind and leaning to rest his head on her shoulder. “What are we talking about?”

Penelope threw her head back in defeat, “Nothing, 187, we were just talking. . .”

“Don’t you think Luke and Penelope would make the cutest couple Spencer?” Y/N smirked.

“You know what? Yeah I do!” Spencer played along, “Have you guys ever thought about that?

Luke was beaming behind Penelope, while she looked like she was trying to hide her enthusiasm. “No actually I haven’t,” she said.

“Well you definitely should,” Y/N said, giggling as her and Spencer walked to his desk.

“Hey, wait come back here! What does your necklace have on it?” Penelope asked, half running after them, Luke closely behind her.

“Whatever you want Penelope, whatever you want.”

“I want to wear his initial On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck Not because he owns me But 'cause he really knows me”

Thank you so much for reading!! Please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup @s1utformgg @averyhotchner @widow-cevans @rotinireid

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madswonders · 3 years

Text

A Lesson In Romance #10: Thoughts

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Implied anxiety, Mentions of canon-typical violence

Word Count: 2.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, they're paired together on a case.

A/N: I know that the BAU's conference room has big-ass glass windows but just imagine that the blinds are closed for the entirety of this chapter aha. Also this chapter is a doozy... like 1k words longer than usual, so enjoy!

Masterlist | All chapters here!

---------

As Peter Gizzi once described the phenomena of love, "About you there is nothing I wouldn’t want to know / With you nothing is simple yet nothing is simpler."

In high school, your reputation always preceded you. The cynic that never had a boyfriend, much less a drunken one-night stand; a prude who waited over ten dates to have her first kiss; or the "ice queen" who kept her emotions locked up and threw away the key.

If they saw you now, you wondered if they would laugh at how you've changed; because these days, you looked like you were keeping the best secret in the world, one that threatened to burst from your lips every time you smiled.

What you didn’t know, is that you didn't need to be a profiler to see it. From the bubbling laughter and whispered conversations, to the not-so-secret longing glances. You and Spencer disappeared into your own world when you were together, and everybody knew it.

And for the first few weeks, that was enough. You found it easier than usual to ignore the thoughts that lurked in the back of your mind. That is, until you couldn't.

"... I want you and Spencer to work on the geographic profile." Hotch had announced, and you remembered the feeling of your blood running cold.

There were two reasons for this. First was the fact that this case linked twenty homicides across three years to a single unsub. If there was any case that required the two nerdiest members of the BAU to team up, this was it.

Unfortunately, that fact was closely followed by an overwhelming fear — and you wanted to preface this by saying that you were usually a woman of logic and science — but, somehow, you couldn't shake the thought that something bad was going to happen to you and Spencer, and you weren't ready for it.

Leaning against the cool conference room wall, you tapped your toes in an impatient rhythm against the carpeted floor. You were trying to recite what you learned from your PhD; that your mind was jumping to conclusions and that it was normal to be nervous. It was normal to feel this way. You were normal.

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked, jolting you out of your mantra.

You realised your boyfriend had been talking to you for awhile now, but clearly, you weren't listening. You shook your head apologetically.

"Sorry, I was just thinking. Could you say that again?"

"I was just saying, you can start by pinning the names and locations of the victims, and I'll put up the crime scene photos... but are you sure you're okay?" He asked again, this time shooting you those puppy dog eyes that made you weak.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine. Let's get to work." You said firmly, grabbing the box of push pins. You felt his gaze linger on you for a second, before he began picking up his own stack of pictures.

The first hour sped by quickly as you and Spencer listed out all of the unsub’s possible motives and next victims. At the half hour mark, Hotch dropped in to check on your progress, bringing takeaway coffee and leaving with a rare smile.

At the second hour, the rest of the team returned with some new leads, and unfortunately, new bodies, but nothing that helped solidify the profile any further than what you already had.

At the fifth hour, there was no denying it. The team had hit a wall. While the rest of them were back in the field investigating more leads, you sipped on your second cup of coffee while staring at the evidence board. Spencer paced the room behind you.

"The messy dump sites. The carvings onto the victims' chests. One points to the unsub being disorganised and inexperienced, but the other is a clear, almost narcissistic ritual." The doctor thought aloud.

"Usually that means the unsub is trying to make a statement, but he killed his first ten victims before the police found out, then killed another seven and three right under their noses before going dormant. If he wanted to make a statement, why wouldn't he tip off the police or media sooner?" He grumbled.

"Are we sure it's not a taunt to the local police’s competency? Many of his first victims were found in secluded areas with limited police support." You pointed out, tapping the edge of your cup in thought.

"No, the victimology and locations are too wide spread. A taunt would present a clearer message." He said.

You turned around suddenly, causing him to halt in his steps. "Here's something completely off the wall — but what if the unsub was trying to achieve a specific pattern with his kills?" You said, gesturing with your cup.

Tap, tap-tap, tap, you created the rhythm with your finger.

"That would explain why he isn't acting like a narcissist. Maybe he's suffering a mental condition that compels him to complete a certain pattern, and subsequently, ritual with his kills. Could be rhythmical, musical, numerical..." You explained.

"Numerical. That's it!" Spencer squeaked, rushing to the board with a marker. "I thought these numbers seemed familiar earlier, that's because they make up prime numbers!"

He backed away from the board to reveal what he wrote. The numbers 2, 3, 5, 7, and 11. A lightbulb turned on in your head.

"2, 3 and 5 make up the first ten kills. 7 is the next, which he managed to complete perfectly, but something happened to the unsub at 11." Spencer voiced your thoughts.

"He might have been incarcerated, or injured. But we can't rule out the possibility that he might have moved out of town and resumed the pattern elsewhere. So either we can expect 8 more victims here, or the unsub has already moved onto the next number: 13." You quickly finished the train of thought.

"Love, you're a genius!" Spencer rushed over to pick you up by the waist, twirling you as you laughed in relief. But the relief turned to surprise when he kissed you deeply.

God, he was good at this. Even when your feet touched the ground, it felt like you were seeing stars. Though it was only when your lips parted that he had the decency to blush.

"Love?" You breathed.

Spencer's cheeks turned crimson in embarrassment, but he didn't back away. Instead, he leaned forward, bumping your foreheads together gently.

"I didn't know you had that in you, doctor." You teased.

"Well, my mother did school me in classic romance literature from a young age. Not to mention, I happen to be a genius at most things..." You could hear the smile in his voice, and you giggled.

The doctor pulled away then, an adoring smile still plastered across his face. "Are you fee—" He began, but his voice died in his throat as his gaze fixated on something behind you.

"Ooooh, am I interrupting something?" You turned around to see none other than Penelope smiling coyly from the doorway, and the two of you jumped apart.

"N-no, nothing!" Spencer blurted out.

"All fine and dandy here." You added on, blushing furiously.

The tech analyst smiled deviously. "Well, I thought I'd come and check on my two favourite lovebirds. Anything else from the case for me to chew on? Except whatever that was earlier." She teased.

"Actually, there is." You cleared your throat awkwardly, while the good doctor looked like he wanted to melt into the carpet.

"We need you to search up murders in neighbouring cities that match the mutilation by our unsub, then cross-reference the time frame with any new residents. We suspect he might be trying to complete a pattern, and that he may have done it somewhere other than here." You said.

"On it, future-Mrs-Genius. I will get back to you so fast that you won't even have time to get down and dirty." She half-yelled that last bit, heels clicking as she walked back to her office. Before you could even formulate a response, she was gone.

You felt your boyfriend wrap his arms around you from the back. "Now, where were we?" He whispered.

You giggled, leaning back into the doctor's chest while he rocked your bodies side to side. "Are you feeling better now?" He asked.

"Next time someone says it's not as intense in here as it is out there, I'm going to give them a stern talking to." You joked.

"You know what I mean, love." Spencer reiterated gently, the pet name falling from his lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. "If you tell me about it, I can help you. You know I'm always here for you."

You sighed softly, blinking back tears that threatened to spill.

"It's something stupid. I-I'm fine."

He turned you around, brows furrowing in concern when a tear rolled down your cheek. "What's wrong?" He asked, wiping it away tenderly.

"I— I was worried about us working together." You admitted. "And it's not because I don't like working with you, but I just— I just couldn't—"

"Take a deep breath, love. Slowly." He held your shoulders as you breathed in and out, once, twice.

"I've been afraid this whole day — no, for awhile now — that something was going to happen to our relationship." You confessed shakily. "And it's not about our jobs — although I worry about that too — but I'm scared that one day you'll wake up and realise that I'm not worth the trouble."

You looked up at the ceiling, trying to stop the next wave of tears.

"A-and it's only gotten worse because I've never been so h-happy with another person before. Only you've made me feel this way, and I'm t-terrified that I'll lose what we have."

There was a brief silence as Spencer pulled you close to his chest, one hand stroking your hair carefully. You could hear his heart beating fast.

"Do you remember when the team tricked us into sharing a bed?" He whispered, a hint of a smile trickling into his voice. "I think about it every single time we're about to go into the field. Because you said you'd never leave me, and now, whenever we're out there, I know I'm not alone."

He breathed in deeply, your head gently rising and falling together with his chest.

"You've given me someone to come home to, love. What we have, you'll never lose it, okay?" He whispered.

"Baby, I—" Your voice halted. Crap.

"Wait. Baby?" Spencer repeated back to you, a teasing lilt in his voice. Your face flushed, and you unwinded your arms from your boyfriend to cover your face.

"Oh god, can we pretend that didn't just happen?"

"I have an eidetic memory." He pointed out. You let out a watery laugh, knowing when you had lost.

"Alright, alright. But I do have another ide—"

Then, the conference room phone rang. It was Emily. "Hey guys, Garcia managed to narrow down the unsub and we're 10 out, but we'll need some back-up."

"Be there in 15." You replied, while Spencer shot you an amused look, Luckily, he waited for the call to end before saying the next words.

"Let's go, baby." He wiggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes and laughed, already strapping on your kevlar. "That's it. You're not driving."

"Aww!"

---------

After the major breakthrough in the case — all thanks to Nerd 1 and Nerd 2, as Derek fondly called the two of you — the case managed to wrap up neatly and the BAU found themselves in a rare position. Ready to end the work day, on time.

Not that anybody was packing up to leave just yet, although you wished they would, because Penelope had decided to start enthusiastically retelling how she found the BAU's resident lovebirds in the conference room, unable to keep their hands off each other.

"Last I heard, pet names aren't a crime — and how long were you standing there anyway?" You accused, blushing.

"Firstly, they are. Criminally cute, that is!" Penelope squealed, while the rest were in fits of laughter. "And secondly, you should never underestimate my awesome ninja abilities, because I heard everything that I needed to hear."

"Do I even want to know?" Spencers winced.

"I don't think you do, pretty boy." Derek laughed, clapping the genius on the back.

"Wait, wait, wait. Can we go back to how Spencer's pet name of choice is love?" Emily gasped in laughter.

"You've got to admit it's kind of cute, Emily." JJ smiled.

"Sure. If you're courting Mr. Darcy and attending cotillions."

"C'mon, Prentiss. All that means is that our boy's got style." Derek added to laughter, while Spencer whined in protest.

The door to Hotch's office opened suddenly, both him and Rossi stepping out with expressions of urgency on their faces.

“Sorry to break up the fun, kiddos. But there's been an update to the case.” Rossi announced, following right behind Hotch to the conference room.

The laughs were wiped off everybody's faces as you traded concerned looks. As you filed into the room, Hotch had already begun speaking.

“Another body was found half an hour ago. Same MO, same random victimology, and same kind of dumpsite. And the unsub just told us where to find his copycat.”

“Wait, we never profiled a second unsub.” Derek interjected.

"It doesn't makes sense — the first unsub is a control freak. He didn't like the idea of anybody messing with his sequence. Wouldn't he have done something if he knew somebody else was copying his pattern?" You asked.

"We profiled that he wouldn't be able to deviate from his pattern. What if he had to continue, even when somebody else was committing some of the crimes for him?" Spencer countered.

“Hold on, you said the unsub gave us a location?” Emily asked.

"And a time." Rossi voiced up. “8pm tonight at The Basil. The first unsub claims that's where the copycat finds his next targets."

"How do we know if we can trust him?" Derek asked.

"We don't. But he didn't display any telltale signs of doubt when he told us, and this is the only lead we have." Hotch's frown deepened. You had a feeling he didn't like the idea of this either, but the team didn't have a choice.

"Okay, if we're doing this, he can't know we're onto him," Emily thought aloud, "and we'll need precautions in case it's a trap. That means..."

"Undercover agents... and the bait." Hotch said with finality.

“And who did you have in mind for that?” You piped up, and everyone turned their eyes to you.

“You and Reid.” He stated the obvious.

“B-b-but, I’ve never gone—"

“You’ve more than proven your abilities in the field since you joined us, and having natural chemistry will make it less suspicious to the unsub.”

You opened your mouth, but no words fell from it. Hotch was right. Of course he was right.

As if hearing your thoughts, Spencer took your hand in his and squeezed, and you felt a little calmer already. “Ok, I’ll do it.” You said determinedly, while the doctor echoed your sentiment.

Hotch nodded, beginning to assign roles to the rest of the team while you squeezed your boyfriend's hand tighter, a new mantra forming in your head.

Everything is going to be okay. Everything will be okay.

----------

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#mads fics #spencer reid x reader: a lesson in romance #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fic #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid x reader hurt/comfort

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hopeless-ro-simptic · 3 years

Text

Familiar Cerulean Eyes - Pt 12

Click here for a full list of other parts! Part 13!

Warnings: Arguments. Mention of past physical harms.

Word Count: 3.7 k

TAGLIST: @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes @x-a-delama-x @inanabsentia @reallyshey @godsblesstheboi @operatorsdime @drownedbytears @emilymikado @fluidfandoms @gotagan @mikasackrmann @flowersgirl02 @bohica160 @andrastesbeard @riapxq @percabethismyotp14 @celestiallustre @moon-spirit-yue @hecatve @bakugoshirp @vanillanjinn @toshiuwuu @rxinbowrena @therealwalmartjesus @callmepopcorn @xxdumb-bitchxx @medicinalkiwis @kat-unzel @headfirst-halo

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You felt sore all over and your head was throbbing, but nothing compared to how hungry you were. It had taken hours for your heat to simmer down enough for the two of you to finally get out of the too small for Dabi’s large frame bed. To be honest, you weren’t even sure when or how you two even made it to the bedroom.

But here you were several hours later, starving, and a different need growing as you took in the contents of the small apartment. You needed to nest, and there wasn’t much to use. You would have to see if Dabi could go out and fetch some things for you…

“Mhh… somethin’ smells good.” You had been too lost in thought to notice Dabi stroll into the kitchen until he was leaning against your back, his arms wrapping around you pressing you against him and he pressed his lips to the bond mark on your neck inhaling your scent.

“You still like your eggs scrambled right?” You tried to ignore the way his fingers felt across your hips playing with the edge of his hoodie that you were wearing, the way his smell enveloped you and made your insides twist in excitement. You focused instead on how hungry you were. You had never had to deal with a heat this intense, having been on suppressants since your very first heat. To be fair, you also had never been allowed to actually indulge in your heat which you were sure was only making it worse.

“I was talking about you.” He was pressing kisses along your neck at this point, pulling at the neckline of the hoodie, his voice gravellier than normal from the brief hour of sleep that he had gotten. You didn’t understand how he still had so much energy, but you guessed that it was just his alpha’s stamina, even you were tired and you were the one in heat.

“Touya, I’m hungry, let me eat firs-.” You turned to him whining, your voice catching in your throat at noticing how completely naked he was. In the soft light of the morning, you could see everything, and you were pretty sure the man in front of you was an angel sent from heaven.

“I’ll give you something to eat, little mouse” He leaned over you, his hands settling on either side trapping you against the stove you were at and you could hear the pan that the eggs were on shifting slightly behind you. You couldn’t lean away or else you’d burn yourself.

Maybe he was closer to a demon. A damned incubus.

You could feel your cheeks heating up along with your core, but it wasn’t unbearable yet. Apparently even your horny omega was too hungry to be sent back into a frenzy. Not to mention the growing anxiety of not having a nest was making you a bit temperamental.

When Dabi noticed the frown growing across your features, he pouted a bit but backed off running his hand through his messy bed head.

“I thought that an omega’s heat lasted longer.” He was moving around you, grabbing a drink of water out of the fridge leaning against it not bothering to hide anything as he watched you finish cooking.

“We still have to eat and take care of ourselves. It’s not just… constant … you know.. all the time.” You could see his lips pulling up in amusement watching as you tried to find the words that you wanted. It didn’t help that he was completely naked.

“You were screaming at me to fuck you all night, but now you can’t even talk about it?”

“Anyways…” You stated pointedly, separating the eggs along with the bacon that you had made onto two separate paper plates. You were glad you insisted on getting those at the store yesterday, Dabi hadn’t even thought about it. “What about you? I thought rutting alpha’s were supposed to be crazy insatiable and rough.” Not that you minded at all that he had been gentler with you... you had honestly been a little scared when you noticed he had started to rut, even though it felt good you were expecting him to go crazy like you had heard other alpha’s do..

Dabi had disappeared back into the bedroom for just a brief moment before coming back out fully clothed now, much to your relief.

“I’m on suppressants that make it more managable, it’s kind of hard to be on the down low if I have to deal with ruts every couple weeks. Last night barely could be counted. Though… if you want me to I could show you what a real rut is like.” There he was again, teasing you, making your omega drool. As much as you were scared of what a real rut could be, it didn’t change the fact that as an omega you were built for it. Just like his alpha was built to have crazy stamina to keep up with you in a heat, you were built to take the brunt force of his rut and even enjoy it, crave it.

You shoved the thoughts out of your brain, just as you shoved his plate into his hands, ignoring the chuckles leaving his lips at your embarrassment at your own thoughts. His eyes stayed on you as you moved to sit down at the island counter, munching away on your breakfast, your stomach thanking you.

“It’ll happen at some point though; the suppressants can only do so much and with you going into heats it’ll just make it harder to control until I end up going into a real rut.”

You nodded, you knew when it came down to it, it would be fine. You just didn’t want to deal with it right now. Right now, you wanted to finish breakfast and start on your nest, and you had already taken a mental stock of everything in the apartment that could be used. You really needed Dabi to go out and get more.

“Can you go to the store for me?” He looked up from his plate with confusion on his face. Why would you want to send him away right now?

“Why? I’m not leaving you alone when you’re in heat.” He said it like he was pointing out the obvious, and you guessed he was. But you had to get more materials, and you knew he wouldn’t let you go out either.

“Please? I just need some more blankets, and maybe a couple pillows…” It took a few seconds as you sorted through your brain of what to tell him to get, but you saw the understanding dawn across his features as he placed his empty plate down on the counter across from you.

“Can’t you make do with what we have? I’m not leaving you here unprotected. Not right now. Can’t it wait until after your heat? Or better yet when we are set up somewhere more permanent?”

Your thoughts stopped. He didn’t want you to nest? He wanted you to wait for a more permanent place? If you had learned anything over the last week of being with him, you knew nothing would be permanent, which meant that you would never get to nest. So he didn’t want you to nest?

Dabi could see the crestfallen look cross your face, knew that he said something wrong, something that upset you. Just like he always does. He wanted to make you happy, he really did, but he wasn’t going to leave you unprotected when you were in the middle of a heat, especially freshly bonded, with heroes after you.

“I’ll see if I can get ahold of kurogiri, maybe he can find a way to get what you nee-.”

“No!” Your scent was quickly turning sour as your anxiety and anger mounted. “I don’t want him to taint the scent of anything, I don’t want anyone else touching it.”

“Y/N” His voice was a warning. One that you ignored.

“Dabi pl-“

“No!” Your omega let out a chirp as Dabi slammed his hands down onto the counter, them lighting up with blue flames as he glared at you. Why wouldn’t you listen? He was just trying to keep you safe, didn’t you understand what could happen? Did you understand the danger you were in? What would happen if Endeavor found you, in heat, all alone, freshly bonded to a villain?

Tears pricked at your eyes but you refused to cry, instead you turned on your heel going back into the room, slamming the door shut behind you and clicking the lock on the door in place much to Dabi’s annoyance. You could hear him right outside the door as you collapsed onto the bed burying your face into the pillow blocking out the sounds of him pounding on the door.

“Y/N, we both know I can just burn this door down if you don’t open it right fucking now.”

The pounding was getting louder.

“I swear to god-“

“What?! What are you going to do? Use your fire, burn it down? Use your alpha voice and force me to open it and to listen to you? It doesn’t matter.” You knew that your sour scent was probably seeping through every inch of the apartment, being contained only by the scent proof barriers. You didn’t even try to contain it, to seem less upset than you actually were.

Everything stopped, it was quiet, other than the soft muttering of curses on the other side of the door before they moved away off somewhere else in the apartment. You took several deep breaths to calm yourself, inhaling his scent from the pillow. It didn’t help. You could feel your frustration and anger mounting until the tears pricked at your eyes. He didn’t even listen to you, didn’t let you explain how badly you needed this. He just shut you down. Was this always going to be a thing? Where he just expected you to head to his every whim?

You realized that he wasn’t the same person as he was all those years ago, that he was used to getting his way by now, but you didn’t think he would act like he was. That he would just forget how Important it was to you to be able to nest after not being able to for so many years. To just forget how cruel it was to deny an omega their basic needs.

An hour or two had gone by and he had stayed away, ignoring you just as much as you ignored him. You had just gotten comfortable on the bed, making what little of a makeshift nest you could trying to comfort yourself when there was another knock on the door, this one being more friendly, lighthearted even, accompanied with a smell that confused you. Was someone else here?

“Y/N? It’s Toga… Dabi went out for a bit and asked me to keep you company, can I come in?”

You hesitated for a minute before crawling out of the bed and moving to unlock the door, peering at Toga and behind her to confirm that Dabi was indeed not waiting for an opportunity to bust through the door. When you were satisfied you opened it all the way allowing her to step inside your bedroom but she kept her distance, wrinkling her nose at your lingering scent, and chose to sit on the ground at the doorway instead, playing with her knife between her fingers as you retreated back to your bed.

“Dabi said you were nesting and in heat, I know better than to get too close.”

“Fuck him, you can do whatever you want. If he want’s to argu-“

“He’s not the one I’m worried about.”

You quieted down, confusion crossing your face. Why would she be afraid of an omega?

“My mom was an omega, you guys can be scary protective sometimes.” Looking at Toga sitting on the ground hugging her knees you realized again just how young she really was… You guessed she was about 17 but you knew that she had been on the run for awhile, when exactly did she leave home?

“I bet she was super protective of you. Omega’s are always protective of their pups.”

“I think so, she did try to kill me once though.” The way Toga said that statement sounded so casual that it took you a moment to fully understand what she was saying. She kept going though, unfazed.

“I remember I tried to crawl into her nest right before I left, to say goodbye. I was just going to give her a hug, a little present I made her and leave, maybe take some blood to remember her with but I wasn’t going to hurt her. I would never hurt her.” Toga looked up at for confirmation that you understood what she was saying before she continued. You tugged the fur blanket up around you for comfort, having a sinking feeling in your gut.

“She woke up though. What a shame really, she was so cute when she was sleeping. She used to tell me the same thing, that I was so cute, but after what had happened at school with that boy, she didn’t call me cute anymore. She woke up… I didn’t know that she had a knife, I didn’t think she would actually hurt me… she just kept screaming to… get out.” Toga sounded far off, like she was reliving that night and not sitting on your bedroom floor. You wanted to hug her, but you also didn’t know if that would be okay, so you sat silently listening to her speak in a hushed whisper.

“So yea, she stabbed me and I left. It was not cute.” The way she perked right back up gave you whiplash. Like she hadn’t just told you that her own mother had hurt her. Sure, your parents had sold you, but they didn’t out and out stab you. Looking at her and Dabi’s background it was no wonder they were villains.

“She stabbed you?” The shock was apparent in your voice, causing Toga’s bright smile to appear again, her long canines peeking out.

“Yea, I still have the scar, do you wanna see?” Before you could even answer, Toga jumped up from her spot, pulling her sweater up revealing a nasty scar just under her ribs causing you to flinch at the sight. A smile on her face as she poked it a couple times. “It was a really lucky aim too. A centimeter in any direction and she would of hit something important. I think it was her way of showing she still loved me. She didn’t want me to die yet. She knew I had work to do. She’s such a good mom.”

You watched Toga, dumbfounded as she pulled her sweater back down into it’s place smoothing her skirt before leaning back against the door frame, her knife ever present in her hand, like it was a comfort object.

“I go visit her every once in a while, when I can. Just pop in for a quick hello, but I make sure not to wake her up anymore. I just leave her presents right outside of her nest, I know better now than to go in.”

A chime sounded throughout the room making you jump, Toga waving to you to relax as she pulled out a cellphone glancing at it for a moment before typing out a quick reply, her smile widening.

“Twice says hi by the way.” You could see the girlish charm radiating off of her. She looked like a lovesick kid, more so than usual.

“Hi back? What’s going on with you two by the way, if I can ask?”

She glanced back up at you, confusion crossing her face like you asked her such an odd question.

“What do you mean? He’s my friend.”

“O-oh I just mean that you two seem really close… like you were courting or something.” The blush that settled across Toga’s cheeks was distinctly different than what you had previously seen on her. Like she was actually embarrassed about something.

“Why would you think that? The only person I am courting with is Deku.”

Confusion crossed your face now, recognizing Deku as one of Shoto’s friends. His real name was Midoriya, an omega that was doing fairly well in the hero course despite his secondary sex. You were pretty sure he was not, indeed, courting a villain, almost 100% sure. Was this one of her obsessive fantasies?

“I’m sorry, I just… thought the two of you seemed like you liked each other like that. Sorry I must have misread the situation.” You treaded lightly around the subject, not wanting to push it. You knew that Beta’s weren’t as possessive of their mates usually, but with Toga you could never really be sure how she would react. Still the blush didn’t leave her cheeks, and you noticed her biting her lip for a moment before her phone chimed again and she quickly picked it back up typing back a reply lightning fast.

“So where did T-.. Dabi go, I thought he was adamant about staying here?” You cleared your throat to cover up your mess up. Toga didn’t even blink. You needed to make sure you remembered not to let his identity slip. These were his friends, sure, but he didn’t trust them with this, and you weren’t about to screw it up.

“Hmm? Oh I think he went on a mission? I’m not super sure, Twice and I were watching a movie when Kurogiri showed up at our place saying that Dabi needed me to come hangout with you. Twice tried to come but Dabi made it pretty clear that he didn’t want any boys near you. Which none of us blame him, heat’s make omega’s crazy.”

“I’m not crazy.” You clenched your fists into the fur blanket, feeling your anger mounting at her words.

“Oh but aren’t you? I’ve seen what happens to an omega on heat. Not only do y’all just want to breed like crazy but you get mega cranky. Worse than any normal period. I’m so glad I don’t have to deal with that, I much rather deal with the blood and the cramps.” She wasn’t even looking at you as she spoke, her eyes glued to the screen in front of her with such focus, like she was desperately trying to understand something that was confusing her.

You could feel your frustration rising but knew that lashing out would only prove everyone’s point. You weren’t being crazy, what was crazy was telling an omega in heat to wait to nest. What was crazy was going out on a mission and leaving you behind but refusing to go to the damned store for you. What the fuck was wrong with him. What was crazy was having you being baby-sat by an immature lovesick beta that didn’t understand anything, including her own feelings, let alone how you felt.

You were mad. At Dabi, at Toga, at the whole world. Omega’s were constantly looked down on in society which was stupid considering without them Alpha’s wouldn’t exist. You cannot have an alpha without an omega. They were yin and yang, the sun to the moon, two sides of the same coin, yet for some reason omega’s were treated like dirt and were considered weak and needy. Not to mention, apparently crazy for their fucking hormones. Alpha’s weren’t talked down upon for their ruts. For their stupid want to protect and be possessive of what was theirs.

You were livid, to the point that you were pretty sure if you had a powerful fire quirk like Dabi that the whole room would be aflame, but no. Instead you had a weak quirk that was perfect for an omega. One that didn’t even extend to other people and half the time didn’t work. Honestly you didn’t understand your quirk, Endeavor had decided early on that it was unnecessary for you to fully test the limits of your quirk as you weren’t going to be a hero and therefore didn’t need it. He just needed to know that you wouldn’t burn from his families’ fire. You had never cared about it until now, but for some reason, now it mattered to you. You wanted to know how it worked. Maybe if you could figure it out, maybe you could better know how to protect yourself, and Dabi would stop treating you like you were a porcelain doll. That needed to be told what to do and when to do it in order for you to be safe.

Maybe you could become an actual member of the league, not just a housewife omega. One that people listened to. Maybe you could help them take down Endeavor, while still protecting the rest of the Todoroki’s that didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe-

“Earth to Y/N.”

“Huh?” Your eyes focused on Toga, not realizing you had spaced out. She was looking at you with concern, you assumed she had been trying to get your attention for a couple minutes.

“Dabi’s on his way back.”

“Oh…” Your thoughts quieted down to one thought alone, that you wanted to fight for what you had. That you wanted to learn how to protect yourself and not rely so much on the other’s around you. That you wanted a say in your future and you wanted to fight tooth and nail for the freedom for you and Dabi to be together and have whatever life the two of you wanted without worries about constantly running from stuck up heroes that thought they knew everything. You wanted to be a strong omega, that could hold her own next to her alpha. That could take care of herself and her family. He was yours and you were his and you weren’t going to let anything change that. You were going to prove to Dabi and to the rest of the world that you weren’t a cry baby.

You heard the front door unlock and open and you jumped out of the bed pushing past Toga to meet Dabi in the living room only to stop in your tracks at the end of the hallway, your eyes wide.

“Is this fucking enough?”

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lunaralight09 · 3 years

Note

Could you do books that the scps might read?

Books that the SCPs might read

SCP 035 Anna and the French Kiss by Stephanie Perkins Anna is shipped off to boarding school in Paris where she meets the super-charming Etienne, and that's when things get interesting. I was a squealing, giggly, mush-fest all the while through reading this book. Stephanie Perkins knows just how to turn a seemingly ordinary love story into an unputdownable read. SCP 040 Your Brain Needs a Hug: Life, Love, Mental Health, and Sandwiches Just the title of this book by Rae Earl makes us feel a little lighter. And we don’t know about you, but our brains could definitely use a hug right now. While the book is geared towards teens, we found Earl’s advice to be relevant for all ages — particularly for anyone who struggles with depression, anxiety, social media addiction, and self-esteem issues. TBH, pretty much anyone can benefit from this book! SCP 049 And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini And the Mountains Echoed is such an amazing and heartwarming read. It's about a pair of siblings that fate cruelly separates and then finally reunites. A must-read for its simple yet gripping narration and amiable characters. SCP 049-j The Red Notebook by Antoine Laurain This is a French romance novella, and basically a love letter to book lovers. There's mystery, romance, and some of the most beautifully crafted sentences and paragraphs I have ever read. The ending is so sweet, even though you wonder how you ever got there so soon. SCP 053 Lulu and the Rabbit Next Door by Hilary McKay Lulu and her cousin help their neighbor Arthur learn to love and care for his (neglected) rabbit. She doesn’t want her neighbor to feel bad so she writes the rabbit little notes with helpful gifts signed from her own pet rabbit named Thumper. It’s a kind way to show Arthur how to take care of his new pet SCP 073 HumanKind: Changing the World One Small Act At a Time Looking for heart-warming stories of kindness and compassion? HumanKind by Brad Aronson was made for you. But the book isn’t only full of uplifting stories that will move you to happy tears, it’s also packed with practical and actionable tips for how to be kinder in your everyday. One thing is for sure: after you put this book down, you’ll feel inspired to do something nice for someone else. And because of that, we think this is one of the best books on the planet! SCP 076 Do Unto Animals We absolutely DEVOURED this book by Tracey Stewart. Whether you’re looking for tips on how to better understand skunks and squirrels or read your pet’s body language, every page is full of compassionate wisdom about to treat animals in a way that they deserve. Also, the illustrations are absolutely beautiful — we nearly wanted to pet the pages because the animal drawings were so lovable. SCP 079 Walden (Henry David Thoreau) With the outdoorsman renaissance happening as we speak, it is nice to look back at one of the books that probably started it. Walden isn’t the bore you read back in middle school, it takes time to appreciate like a nice bottle of red. Thoreau’s masterpiece tackles so much while quietly nudging your brain into activity. It also makes you want to build a cabin SCP 096 Black Beauty by Anna Sewell Told from the perspective of the horse, this story is so beautifully written that it's easy to get lost in it's pages. I laughed and cried, as did my daughter when she read it. SCP 105 Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury Warm and fuzzy the whole way through, Dandelion Wine is by far the best story to make you feel good. Though I'm not the correct age to directly relate to the young adult story, I still felt the warm summer days and the wonder of it all. SCP 106 Catch-22 – Joseph Heller “War is hell,” is the old adage we all know, but Catch-22 looks to modify that a bit. Instead, war becomes super goddamn weird. The book follows a bomber squadron in the Second World War whose collective sanity is slowly being eroded by whatever passes for power. Throughout it all, the main character keeps trying to prove himself insane enough to be kicked out of the Navy, which is precisely why he can’t

be kicked out. Which is a catch 22 and yes, this is where the phrase comes from. It’s a great extrapolation of quirks and idiosyncrasies we see in day to day life, only this time, they’re affecting war SCP 134 (I know she don't have eyes . But there is a books for blind people) A Mango-Shaped Space by Wendy Mass A Mango-Shaped Space is about a 13-year-old girl with synesthesia (she can see, taste, and hear colors) and her journey in getting a diagnosis and accepting herself and all her differences. It's sort of a coming-of-age story, too. As someone with multiple chronic illnesses who has gone through the same process at the same age, this really was an incredible reading experience. One of my favorite quotes is "We all do the best we can, trying to keep all the balls in the air at once." I recommend it to everyone. SCP 173 Rabbit, Run (John Updike) The greatest mid-life crisis novel of all time doesn’t actually deal with a mid-life crisis at all. Harry “Rabbit” Angstrom is 26 when he decides to leave his wife and son for a new life. Of course, what that new life is, and what exactly he wants out of it isn’t clear to the reader or to Rabbit himself. It will strike a cord with all men who struggle with the idea of settling down. SCP 239 The Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling SCP 682 THE WOLF AND THE WATCHMAN BY NIKLAS NATT OCH DAG If you're the kind of person that can't get enough of Scandi noir films, TV shows and literature, then Niklas Natt och Dag's The Wolf And The Watchman should be next on your reading list. Set in 18th-century Stockholm, this tale is as dark as it gets, following the titular watchman and a detective as they hunt down the killer behind a dismembered corpse that appears in a local pond. As gruesome as it is gripping, it's the perfect literary companion as the nights get longer and increasingly eerie. SCP 847 The Case Against Satan by Ray Russell Two priests are called in to examine a girl who might be possessed by the devil. The Exorcist, right? Nope, it’s Ray Russell‘s The Case Against Satan, a novel of theological horror that beat William Peter Blatty’s book to print by eight years. The Case Against Satan is as much the story of a crisis of faith as it is a supernatural tale, and readers looking for a nuanced take on both should give it a try SCP 953 THE PILLOW BOOK BY SEI SHŌNAGON If you want to learn a bit more about the Japan of the past – and also, weirdly, all of us in the present – The Pillow Book is a cult classic you should absolutely try. Sei Shōnagon was a lady-in-waiting in the court of Empress Teishi in the year 1000 and here she collects her thoughts and musings about court life. To read a woman more than 1,000 years ago being as philosophical, neurotic and scandalous as anyone is today on social media is a thrill that lasts from the start to the end. SCP 1678 Memoirs of a Geisha by Arthur Golden Absolutely moving, the struggles Sayuri faces are painted so beautifully by Arthur Golden's masterful craft that you totally empathize with her as she grows and triumphs in a world designed to see her fail. The ultimate conclusion of the novel fills me with such warmth — it's both entirely unexpected and wholeheartedly appreciated.

#scp foundation #scp #scp 035 #scp 040 #scp 049 #scp 049-j #scp 073 #scp 076 #scp 079 #scp 096 #scp 105 #scp 106 #scp 134 #scp 173 #scp 239 #scp 682 #scp 847 #scp 953 #scp 1678 #scps #books

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broadstflyers · 3 years

Text

A/N: Welp, inspiration struck me, felt as though it quite literally hit me over the top of my head at like 1am, so I proceeded to write this at...1am. It was fun, honestly. It was meant to be a shorter blurb, but I guess it grew into a longer one. I have been experimenting with different writing styles to see which one fits me the best, so I gave the main character a name this time, Alessandra. Also, I was a slight idiot and on my first tag list, I made it specific to the other series I am writing. If you like this piece and the other Mat piece I wrote and you want to be tagged when I post any writing at all, the tag list is here. The semi lowercase thing I've got going on is purposeful. As always, feedback is appreciated, and if you like it, give it a like, reblog, or pop into my asks. Thanks! :)

Warnings: Cursing, angst, mentions of anxiety

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: When an ex comes back in a moment of weakness, you have to make a tough decision.

you say nothing as you approach the black haired boy sitting at a table in your english class. you sit down next to him. he looks up at you, and you lock eyes. no words are spoken, only a mutual understanding. one that only you two could define. you suddenly inch closer to him, continuing to lean in until your head is resting on his chest. you rest your arm next to your head, and he wraps an arm around you.

home. warm. it was.

you could feel his heart beating out of his chest. your heart fluttered with joy. it was instant. it was marvelous. it was beautiful.

“I love you, Alessandra.”

you lurch forward out of your bed, heart beating so fast you are shaking. you pant heavily, tears stream your face, startled. your eyes dart around your room to ground yourself through watery eyes. you hold up your trembling hands, something that has refused to stop since he walked out of your front door for the last time two months ago.

“please don’t visit,” you choke out. you find the strength to turn around and grab your pillow. your chest pounds with pain, every movement is agonizing. you squeeze your soft pillow against your chest to try and alleviate the self-sustained blow. you pretended the pillow could somehow suck the heavy feelings out of you, the way he used to use his hands of healing magic, the way he used to place them with gentle care on your chest to somehow suck the anxiousness out of you onto himself.

you mindlessly rock back and forth, waiting for the waves of mind numbing pain to recede back into the endless deep abyss of despair.

“please don’t visit,” you repeat in a weak voice. not that he could hear your begging, anyways.

he didn’t hear your pleas to love you how you loved him- with every bone in your body. he held a knife in his calloused hands and carved his initials into your soul. every inch of your soul belonged to him, and you let it.

how can you break a bond that felt as though the angels themselves used their delicate touch to hand-tie the gold string you once believed held you two together?

maybe that explains why this feels like hell.

you flinch as you hear a sharp knock at the front door. you should probably get that, but you instead settle back into your hazy gaze out into your room.

a second knock rings throughout the apartment, faster, with a sense of urgency.

“please don’t visit,” you croak.

“Alessandra,” a voice croaks back. “open up.”

your blood freezes cold, eyes grow wide in panic. fire spreads through your veins. hot and cold sensations rip you apart limb from limb. your voice feels broken. no sounds come out when you open your mouth.

I guess I should move.

so you do. you stand up a little too quickly, and your vision goes black. you place your palms down on the bed and wait for your vision to return. you tip toe over to the door and place your palm on your chilling door. goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“it’s Mat,” his once soothing voice whispers through the door.

“Mat,” you quietly repeat back.

“yes, it’s me,” he says with a sigh of relief that you answered him.

his voice of familiarity is catching you in a stint of anxiety where you just want something- anything that’s familiar. you know this. when you used to gaze into his kind, brown eyes, you would see the boy you met in eighth grade, not the man that walked out that door just two months ago.

you went to move the locks, and you unlocked both of them, until you pulled back with hesitancy. “I can’t, Mat, I can’t,” you breathe out, “I can’t see you. please,” you plead, “hear me. I, I can’t. you didn’t hear me all those months I pleaded with you. hear me now.”

you can hear him place his head on the door with a soft thump.

“I still love you, Alessandra,” he mumbles.

and that was it. you just about exploded. the emotions you had kept at bay were unleashed. you began to sob and you sank to the ground until you could hug your knees. you still faced the door. you knew he shouldn’t walk in, but you almost wanted him to. you wanted him to put an end to this, but was it a good idea?

no, it wasn’t. and you knew that.

you began to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. “it’s unlocked,” you hear yourself say in the distance. you didn’t immediately regret those words like you thought you would. you had scooted yourself away from the door so you wouldn’t get hit.

he slowly opened the creaky door, and glances down to see you blankly staring at your knees. what else could you do? it was awkward enough.

he doesn’t say anything. the apartment is dead.

he carefully sits down across from you, far enough where he isn’t in your face, but close enough that you could extend your legs and they would touch him.

you both sit in silence for a moment, trying to adjust to being in each other’s presence again. his presence felt so natural, yet so nerving. you weren’t used to feeling so on edge around him. so hurt.

“time,” you sniff and break the unbearable silence. “I need time,” you reaffirm.

he nods slowly. “I understand,” he whispers. “I know I hurt you. I know I fucked up. I fucked up badly.”

you don’t move a muscle from staring at the seam on your sweatpants. you take a shaky breath. it’s now or never.

“Mat, do you know how painful it is to have to practically beg someone to not treat you like shit one day and then to decide the next day I’m the fucking greatest human being on this planet?” you start to find your voice again.

“I had to beg my boyfriend to treat me with respect. the person I gave my soul to. do you know how much that fucking killed me?” your voice was seething with anger as you remembered the end of your relationship. feelings of betrayal and hurt overtook you.

you push yourself off the floor. he follows you.

“you don’t love me,” you assert. “you ‘love’ me because of when you met me. I’m just familiar to you.”

he makes a taken aback face, his eyebrows furrow. “hey, I know what I feel okay? and yeah, I was a fucking asshole. I realize that now. I shouldn’t have acted out on you like I did. I shouldn’t have made you beg for basic human respect. I’m sorry.”

you look into his eyes again. those brown innocent eyes were once filled with sparkling joy. you see 13 year old you dancing around with his favorite flower in your hair. you see hundreds of dates, each one more special than the last.

you see innocent you. it’s just familiarity. you know it is. you’re too hurt, mind too foggy to really sort through your feelings to figure out if you love the mat standing in front of you.

“I’m going to need time, Mat. I am still feeling too much hurt to decide how I feel.”

he swallows hard, but eventually nods. “okay.”

with a heavy heart, you walk him to the door. before he can walk out, he stops, turns around, and looks down at you one last time. you gaze up into those endless eyes of his, heart shattering because you know you have to send him on his way. it’s for your own good.

he opens his mouth to speak and you gently shake your head. he closes his mouth, and you offer him a nod as in, it’s time to go. you can see his body exhale. he steps through the door frame, this time you sending him through there yourself. you don’t wait to see if he will turn around. you don’t want to see if he turns around. you want to close that door knowing you are the one who sent him away, and that was all you wanted to remember in the future. and so you do.

you lock the locks with every ounce of you left, pressing your fingers down to make sure the door was actually locked. you just wanted to keep everything out. every weird feeling, any remote desire to go back to him.

you paused to touch the door one last time, letting a single tear flow down your cheek before turning to crawl back into bed and sulk for the rest of the day.

you knew deep down that was the last time you would ever see the face of your teenage love.

he won’t be visiting anymore.

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

again, here's the link to the tag list, and my asks are open if you want to talk about this piece! I hope you...well...enjoyed it, I guess? lmao

#mat barzal #mat barzal angst #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader

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chaoticdean · 4 years

Photo

(click on the banner for HQ, Tumblr somehow keeps fucking it up)

31 days and close to 39k words written later, here’s my Suptober20 master post! I can hardly believe that I managed to write everyday for a month, and I once again want to thank all of you for tagging along and being the nicest cheerleaders in the whole damn world. 💜

A special thank you to @winchester-reload for hosting this massive challenge and being the nicest gal around ✨

LINK TO THE SERIE ON AO3 | LINK TO MY TUMBLR TAGGED POSTS

(individual posts under the cut because this is a very long fucking post)

#1 — On the road again

The thrilling quest of gouda cheese — wc ~ 900 — Castiel is in charge of grocery shopping today, which could be a great thing if Dean could stop making him run back to the store multiple time. When his boyfriend decides they’re suddenly in urgent need of a special cheese, Castiel in turn decides he’s had enough.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#2 — Earth

A plastic and cardboard affair — wc ~ 1.2k — In which Castiel suddenly becomes hyperaware of the looming environmental catastrophe ahead and decides to start changing things in the bunker, and Dean... Well, Dean is sleepy, AND HE JUST WANTS TO CUDDLE.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#3 — Demonic

Demonic skills — wc ~ 1.4k — Before Cas, Dean could always count on his abilities in bed to get him out of conversations he didn’t want to have. Now, though, not so much. (also known as “post-coital pillow talk with Cas”).

AO3 | Tumblr post

#4 — Branded

Etched into my bones — wc ~ 500 — Against all the odds, Dean is the one who suggests it. He claims it’s just a mean to an end, but Cas knows better. After all, he’s the one who gets to witness the man behind the hard shell he shows to the world every single day, and he’s grown to love the soft side of Dean Winchester.

(Darkest Roads!verse)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#5 — Daydream

Dr. McHandsy and the curious case of the white lab coat — wc ~ 1.5k — They’re on a case and undercover, and that’s reason #1 why Dean shouldn’t be sitting here drooling over his partner. But really, who thought putting Castiel in a doctor outfit would be a brilliant idea?!

He’s gonna kill Sam.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#6 — Mask

A study in scotch and pampering — wc ~ 1.3k — If anyone had told Dean Winchester years from now that he’d be content letting his husband paint his face with foreign matter (not that kind of foreign matter, you kinky bastards) that smells like coconut and feels like whipped cream, he would’ve had the biggest laugh out of it. Nowadays, though, if that’s what it takes to get Cas to talk, he’ll do it in a heartbeat.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#7 — Domestic

The shirt in the dispute (and other laundry feuds) — wc ~ 2.1k — It all starts off with a sordid affair of mixed laundry, and somehow it’s World War III in the Men of Letter’s bunker (or the one where Castiel messes a batch of laundry up, and Dean’s Led Zeppelin shirt bites the dust)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#8 — Heartless

Ohio and the open secret — wc ~ 1.5k — Dean desperately tried to get Sam to pass on this case, hoping to finally get some alone time with his boyfriend for the first time in a while, but his giant moose of a brother decided to tag along anyway. Now they’re stuck in the same bedroom in Ohio, and Castiel is about to lose it, so Dean takes the matter into his own hands.

(it doesn’t go as planned)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#9 — Electric

Ocean waves — wc ~ 1.2k — It’s been 5 years now, and somehow they figured out their shit. A house on a the shore, a ring on their fingers, and despite everything Dean still wakes up to find Cas wrapped up in a panic attack on random nights, doubts and anxiety eating him alive. But they aren’t alone in the panic anymore.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#10 — Sweet Rides

Home is wherever I’m with you — wc ~ 600 — Until a few years ago, Dean didn’t have any home. He grew up in shitty motel rooms and inside the Impala, on the road and in-between schools. As he finally allow himself to fall into Castiel’s arms, he reflects on all the places he can call home, now.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#11 — Rock & Roll

Sharp Edges — wc ~ 1.6k — Castiel told him he loved him right before getting swallowed up by the Empty. Sam asked him to talk to someone, anyone really,, but words won’t come out, and how is he supposed to tell anyone how it feels to lose everything? So he writes. Letters on napkins, motel notepads, paperback books. He writes as he goes through every steps of grief, until finally there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#12 — Rewind

Leading me, going home — wc ~ 900 — Dean and Castiel reflects on their past and what they would say to their past self if they had the opportunity to rewind. (also known as “Castiel uses too many Harry Potter quotes, which gets Dean to prevent him from ever binging the movies again”)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#13 — Ladies

The promise in the cocktails — wc ~ 800 — When a joke involving colorful cocktails designed to put his brother into misery turns into a promise for more steamy nights with Cas, Dean thinks he might have won the lottery (and God bless strawberry daiquiris).

AO3 | Tumblr post

#14 — Fun & Games

A fever and the whipped boyfriend — wc ~ 1k — Being in love with a being as old as the Earth is all fun and games until said ex-angel gets sick for the first time of his entire (overwhelmingly long) life and turns into an actual, honest to god, gigantic baby. Lucky for Cas, Dean turns into perfect boyfriend mode.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#15 — Third Eye

The blonde-haired witch and the little push — wc ~ 2.8k — It’s not the first time Dean’s ever had to listen to someone referring to Castiel as “his boyfriend”, but it sure as hell is the first time he has to sit through a diner listening to a witch referring to Cas as his husband without even batting an eyelash, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Which would be fine if it didn’t cause actual shivers to run down his spine.

(or the one where a friendly witch gives Dean the little push he needs)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#16 — Switch it up!

The spices in the suit — wc ~ 1.7k — Dean doesn’t know when he started taking advices from Sam when it comes to his love life, but after tonight he thinks he might be more mindful of Sam’s wiseness in the future. Especially if it gets him all the way to the backseat of the Impala with a former angel in his lap.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#17 — Autumn invading

Storms never come to stay — wc ~ 1.6k — Dean finds Cas in the wood behind their house, hours after they had a fight. They’ve been together for a long time now, yet fears still run deep.

(Darkest Roads!verse)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#18 — Dark & Stormy Night

The wayward gang and the questionable cocktail — wc ~ 1.9k — Castiel comes back to the bunker after a day on the road to find the wayward gang scattered over the map table for what appears to be a cocktail night. Sam wanted piña colada, but Dean Winchester bartender extraordinaire decided to go for something darker and stormier...

AO3 | Tumblr post

#19 — Pour one out

As days fade (and night grows) — wc ~ 1.9k — Castiel wakes up alone and cold, and decides that he’s had enough of Dean shutting him out. They’ve lost Jack, but it doesn’t mean they have to lose themselves too.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#20 — Home

The fire in my bones — wc ~ 1.1k — It’s not a secret that Dean Winchester isn’t particularly good with words, but when he fucks up and unintentionally hurts Cas, he knows he has to do better.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#21 — Fear

If I let you go, would you hold on? — wc ~ 1.6k — Castiel gets hurt on a hunt trying to protect Dean, and Dean is tired of having to wake up everyday not knowing if they’ll both be alive the next morning or if one of them is going to sacrifice himself to save the other. Finally, he makes a choice that will set he course of their future together.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#22 — “I cursed the gloom that set upon us, but I know that I love you so...”

Just a little rain — wc ~ 800 — Leave it to Led Zeppelin and Dean’s slow dancing skills to soothe the pain of letting your kid leave to tour the world.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#23 — Favorite

You feel like the sun on my face — wc ~ 700 — Dean awakes to Castiel sliding into bed after he just came back from a hunt, and somehow it’s kind of the best feeling in the world.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#24 — Family business

Wherever we are is where I wanna be — wc ~ 1.4k — It took them a few months, but once Dean and Castiel decide to move across the country and into a home of their own, everything falls into places.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#25 — Villain

The blue tie in the bathtub — wc ~ 1.2k — Dean has been a pain in the ass all day, so Castiel decides to drag him into the bathtub and tie his hand up the shower rail before teaching him a lesson.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#26 — Walk of shame

And I would walk 500 miles — wc ~ 1.3k — The one where they think they’re being subtle, but they’re actually being really loud (and Sam happens to have functioning eyes, too.)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#27 — Banquet

Drunk on love — wc ~ 800 — Dean’s analogies are usually spot on, but maybe he’s had a bit too much whisky to be clever tonight (or maybe the fact that Castiel’s mouth is currently glued to his throat is preventing him to think clearly, who knows?)

AO3 | Tumblr post

#28 — Hellscape

Adventures in Christmas shopping — wc ~ 500 — Castiel wants to go Christmas shopping, and Dean being a very whipped thoughtful boyfriend decides to tag along. It doesn’t go well.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#29 — Fragile

Anytime you reach for me — wc ~ 700 — A look into what sex used to mean to Dean before Cas, and how his world has been turned upside down ever since he got in bed with a former angel of the lord.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#30 — Dress-up

Entertainment in soapy water — wc ~ 800 — Castiel just went down the garage to see what Dean is up to, but when he catches a flash of red right above the waistband of Dean’s shorts, it seems like his boyfriend might have dressed up just for him to see.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#31 — Carry On

Scar tissue — wc ~ 1.6k — There are arguably a few things that Dean dislikes more than anything else in the world, but nothing compares to what it feels like to wake up in an empty bed in the middle of the night, and the insane bolt of fear laced with anxiety than runs through Dean’s chest when he realizes he’s got no idea where Castiel is.

AO3 | Tumblr post

#suptober20 #masterpost #jus writes #I've just spent the entire afternoon preparing this #so help me god if the links don't work I might have to kill someone @ tumblr #destiel ficlet #deancas ficlet #destiel #deancas #writer of destiel #dean/cas

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write-r-die · 3 years

Text

Prisoner - Part 13

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

Thomasin was horribly ill in the morning due to the combination of her courses, sleeplessness, and anxiety. Etheldreda summoned Elaine without needing to be asked.

“Are you often like this in the early days of your time?” Etheldreda asked when she was sure Thomasin was, for the moment, finished vomiting in a bucket.

“Not often, thank God,” Thomasin croaked.

There was a knock at the door. A moment later, a very small Elaine came rushing in.

“Mercia is with me,” Elaine said, following after her miniature. “I hope you don’t mind.”

The little girl looked very much like her mother. Her curly blonde hair was light but still a shade or two darker than Elaine’s straight, pale tresses.

Thomasin did mind but she wasn’t in a place to object.

Elaine removed her satchel and unpacked its contents: around a dozen small jars filled with herbs and flowers. She set a small cauldron of water over the hearth to heat while she muddled peppermint, ginger, and herbs Thomasin did not recognize into a goblet.

The child parked herself beside Thomasin’s bed. “This my doll,” the child said proudly. “Her name Batty.”

“She’s very pretty,” Thomasin said. “Did your mother make her for you?”

“No. It’s present.”

“A gesture of good will from the queen,” Elaine said from the hearth. “It used to belong to one of her daughters.”

“I make her dress. See?” She shoved the poppet straight into Thomasin’s face so she could get a good look at its wrapping.

“Very pretty,” Thomasin said, carefully pushing it away. It had an odd smell to it. Lavender, Thomasin thought, and perhaps milfoil.

Elaine finished ladling hot water into the goblet of herbs and brought it to Thomasin. “You must wait a little before drinking this.”

“How long?”

“Until the water turns brown.”

Thomasin frowned. “Lovely.”

“You sick?” The child climbed onto the bed beside Thomasin. Thank God Etheldreda had already changed the bedding.

“A little.”

Mercia leaned forward like she was sharing a secret. “Is it lady sickness?”

“Mercia,” Elaine called. “Stop bothering Lady Thomasin. She has to drink her potion and prepare for the day.” She gestured at Thomasin to start drinking.

The hot, murky water smelled and tasted considerably better than Thomasin had anticipated, but she would never admit that. She made a face as she drained the cup.

Mercia took the liberty of scooching closer to Thomasin and crossed her little legs. “You got castle?” Mercia asked.

Thomasin looked to Elaine, silently willing the woman to shut her daughter up, but she was back to meddling with her herbs by the fire. “Not anymore.”

“I not have castle,” Mercia said comfortingly. “You have horses?”

“My family had some, yes.” She was without a horse of her own since her mare’s death the year before.

“Not anymore?”

“Not anymore,” Thomasin confirmed.

“I not have horse. You got –”

“Etheldreda, I think perhaps I might bathe. Could you send for a tub? The hot water unknots my muscles.” Thomasin was planning a veritable monologue – as long as she was talking, the child was not – but Mercia had already lost interest in Thomasin.

She crouched beside her mother by the fireplace and plucked dried leaves and flowers from Elaine’s many jars which she then ate.

“A note, milady,” Etheldreda said. She handed the paper over to Thomasin. Thomasin tore it open, expecting something from Henry. It was not. “Are you still ill, Lady Thomasin?” Etheldreda asked.

“It’s from Lawrence,” Thomasin said. All three women fell silent; Mercia tugged at her mother’s hand in a soundless demand for protection and an explanation. “Perhaps I am still unwell.” Thomasin settled back into the pillows.

“What does it say?” Elaine asked.

“He would like to walk with me in the gardens.”

“In Heaven’s name, why?” asked Etheldreda.

“I’m supposed to marry him.”

Mercia wasn’t totally sure what was happening, but the toddler knew how to distract everyone from their problems. Something she heard from Henry and Simon when she caught them by surprise once.

“Goddamn it!”

Thomasin shouldn’t be surprised that Lawrence expected to spend time with her, since they were, after all, engaged.

She supposed she should be pleased in some way. Or that she would be pleased if she were really going to marry him. He was handsome – or would be, if he weren’t directly compared to Henry. He was long-limbed and slim, a combination which made him look foxlike and sly. He was about Henry’s age, which put him somewhere in his early thirties, at least ten years older than Thomasin if not more.

It was a small age gap by most standards; most women wed by sixteen to men at least twice their age, often far more. Justina’s husband was nineteen or twenty years her senior.

As for Lawrence’s personality . . .

Thomasin originally imagined Lawrence to be the sort of man who took joy in chaos and death. Instead, he was reportedly the sort not to find joy in anything at all. According to Elaine, he wasn’t the angry type either. Indeed, he seemed rather disinterested in general.

The snow had started to melt, so Lawrence suggested a walk through the garden. They had no chaperone, but there were at least a dozen others walking along the paths. Etheldreda had altered Thomasin’s borrowed clothes so thankfully she didn’t get mud on the hem of her skirts.

The conversation was bland, to say the least, until Thomasin grew tired of being polite.

“I’ve heard the stories about you,” Thomasin finally said. “How you killed that baron’s wife and daughters. How you let your men rape the servants.”

Lawrence took a deep breath and shut his eyes, summoning his every ounce of patience. “My lady, that is what soldiers do in war. The reason most of these men came from Normandy in the first place was to enjoy the spoils of war. More often than not, those spoils are women.” He took another deep breath and went on walking. “I tell you truthfully, I’ve never had a girl against her will. That’s more than I can say for most of these other barons.”

“Indeed,” Thomasin said again.

“Does it surprise you to hear that most of the men here at court have raped defeated women?”

“No.” Thomasin wasn’t a fool, but she didn’t like thinking about that sort of thing. “But not all of them. Henry and his brothers haven’t. Roger hasn’t.”

Lawrence snorted. “Roger’s perversion sways him from women to men, and the Cavills are an anomaly.”

Thomasin had no idea what the first part meant but she agreed with the second.

“Henry cares for you deeply,” he said after a moment, tone perfectly conversational. “Tis a pity, that. His family are the most honorable men in Normandy if not the world, but I fear he’s a fool.”

“Why are we speaking of Henry?”

Lawrence stopped walking and raised an eyebrow at her. “Don’t insult my intelligence.”

Thomasin straightened up. “All right. What’s your point, then?”

“I’m sure the two of you will cook up some plot to overthrow me so that Henry can take my place as your intended. Frankly, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Thomasin made a face which she couldn’t hide. “Then why not just release me and let me marry him?” Her words dripped with judgment at his stupidity

“The king gave you to me, not him. He would be insulted if I gave you up for no reason. Besides, you are the sort that I want.”

“The sort,” she repeated.

“You are beautiful, self-possessed, intelligent, strong. And you speak your mind, which i think saves a great deal of time.” He shrugged. “It’s a sound match.”

Had he just complimented her? The words were kind but his tone was so detached it felt more like an insult.

Thomasin had the thought that maybe she should hold her tongue. Maybe she shouldn’t say what she wanted to. But she did “How sound was your last match?”

His ears went so red that Thomasin thought they might burst.

“There you are!” Elaine said, feigning relief. She conveniently appeared from a bend in the garden path. “I was looking for you.” She folded Thomasin’s arm into her own. “We must get you back to bed or I fear your promenade will be spoiled with sick. Do you mind terribly, Baron, if I take Lady Thomasin back to her chambers for some much-needed rest?”

“By all means,” he said - in a similarly sarcastic tone to the one Thomasin often used. “I’m due to visit your Saxon brethren in their dungeon anyway. I’ll be sure to give them your best.” He smiled and bowed. “Ladies.”

The women curtseyed and muttered farewells.

“Did you hear him?” Thomasin hissed when he was out of earshot. “He mentioned the Saxons.”

“I heard him,” Elaine said tersely.

“Shouldn’t they have been executed by now?” asked Thomasin.

“One of the men told me that William is reluctant. They’re fine warriors, supposedly. The king would rather have their loyalty than their heads.”

Thomasin sighed. “Little chance of that.”

Henry was among the best warriors under William’s command. He was without a doubt a finer warrior than Lawrence, but he was still vulnerable because he adhered to a code of honor that Lawrence did not. Lawrence’s ruthlessness and detachment made him highly effective, though, and Henry would not make the mistake of underestimating him.

There was a large stone courtyard between the castle itself and the wall William was building around it to make it into another bailey. Henry joined Roger, Charlie, and most of their men to train. Knights were expected to keep their skills sharp and were therefore expected to practice their skills, so it wasn’t strange for him to be there. No one suspected he was training for a duel, or if they did, they were quiet about it.

Henry was barely out of the castle before a little voice called his name,

“Henry!”

He turned around just in time to see Mercia, Elaine’s daughter, crash into his solid legs. He barely had time to maneuver so that she wouldn’t run smack into his scabbard.

“Ah, Mercia!” he said brightly, hoisting the girl into his arms. “You must be careful running. You could’ve gone straight into my sword and be chopped in half!”

“I careful,” she said. “I not cut in half. See?” She opened her arms as if to show him she was whole.

“And what about Batty?” Henry asked, nodding to the doll in her hand. “Is she as careful as you are?”

“Batty not a person, Henry. She not need be careful.”

“Ah, of course! That’s why she won’t talk to me!”

In fact, Batty didn’t interact with Henry because of an unfortunate incident in which Kal thought the poppet belonged to him and nearly tore it to shreds. Mercia had yet to forgive the dog. Her mother repaired the doll as best as she could, though it still bore the marks of its ordeal. Elaine was clever enough to replace some of the lost stuffing with the same herbs she used to treat people with similar wounds. It was Simon’s idea to add lavender to it to help the child relax.

“Where Simon?” Mercia asked.

Simon was Mercia’s dearest companion and she was his. He often referred to the girl as his own small angel, and sometimes asked her where her wings had gone.

Henry would’ve gladly been her playmate, ready for a footrace or a game at a moment’s notice, if his older brother had not asserted himself in that role. Simon’s special relationship with her daughter kindled Elaine’s affections for him until they mirrored his own admiration and tenderness for the healer.

Simon, like Henry, longed for the joy and companionship of a wife and family, though his desire was even greater than his brother’s.

Charlie, too, wanted a family of his own, but he would not admit such a thing aloud. He could be prickly and cold to those he disliked while charming, funny, and kind to those he did. He often made up his mind about people quite quickly, and once his opinion was formed it was difficult to change. Such was the case with Thomasin.

“Simon is still in the north, at the castle I told you about,” Henry said to the little girl. “I know he would rather be here playing with you.”

“He coming back?”

“Soon.”

She frowned. “I miss him. He my friend.”

“Am I not your friend, too?” Henry said with false sadness.

“Yeah, you my friend but you not best friend like Simon.”

Henry sighed theatrically. “I suppose I understand.” He looked around but there was no sign of Elaine, only a handful of serving women pinning wet clothes on a line. “Where’s your mother?”

“She with Lady Thomasin.”

Henry broke into a smile at the sound of her name. He always did. “You’ve met Tom?”

The child frowned again. “Who Tom?”

“It’s a name I call Thomasin.”

“Tom is name for boys. Thomasin not a boy,” she explained patiently.

“Of course, of course. Please forgive me.”

“I forgive,” she said, patting his shoulder.

Henry chuckled. “Is your mother friends with Tom? Thomasin,” he corrected.

“Yeah but they not play today. Thomasin not feel good.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

Mercia motioned for Henry to bring his ear closer so she could whisper to him. “Lady sickness.” She pulled away. “Mama say not to talk about it cause it a secret. Cannot tell!”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Henry promised. He was quietly relieved to hear it was nothing serious, but he frowned over it. Was she really sick, he wondered, or had her engagement to Lawrence prompted her to withdraw from court life?

“Thomasin pretty,” Mercia said.

“Very pretty,” Henry agreed.

“I like her hair.” The little girl started wiggling, a silent signal for Henry to set her down. “She sad though cause she gotta marry Lawrence. Lawrence really scary. And it a bad thing so I say, ‘Goddamn it!’” She shouted the curse; a female servant nearby looked shocked and horrified at the sound.

“Shh!” Henry said, putting his finger to his lips. “Who said that in front of you? Where did you hear it?”

“You say it. When Kal sneaked up on you and barked. You jump and you say, ‘Goddamn it!’”

“Shh!” Henry said again. “You mustn’t say that.”

“Cause why?”

Henry didn’t have a good reason handy. “Ask Simon when he gets back.”

“Why you not tell me?” she asked, sticking out her lower lip in a pout.

“Because I’m not your best friend.”

Henry went for two rounds with Roger, winning both. He then sparred with his squire, since it was his responsibility to train the boy, but he lacked the patience for it today. “Practice your footwork before next time, Jamie. It’s too easy to knock you on your arse.”

“We have an audience,” Roger murmured, nodding to a small, barred window at the base of the castle that looked in on the dungeon. A red-bearded face was just visible through the iron grate. One of the Saxon prisoners, no doubt.

“Can I be of service, sir?” Roger called out. He was courteous by nature, but he became excessively so when speaking to a handsome man – even if that man was in chains.

“Are you preparing for a fight?” the man asked.

Henry opened his mouth to tell the Saxon that it was none of his business, but Roger answered instead. “Aye.”

“What are you fighting over?”

“What do you care?” Henry said. The Saxon shrugged. “A woman,” Henry finally said.

The Saxon didn’t approve. “One woman is just as good as another. It is no great tragedy to lose one to another man. Certainly not worth dying over.”

Henry though the Saxon must not have known many women in his life if he thought they were all interchangeable. But fair number of men, Saxon and Norman alike, shared his sentiment: So long as she ran the household and gave birth to sons, a woman was a woman, and her personality was of little consequence.

“I disagree,” said Henry.

“Then she must be the kindest, most loving woman in all of Christendom if you’re willing to die for her,” the Saxon remarked.

Roger smirked. He spoke low enough that only Henry could hear when he said, “She most certainly is not.” Henry shot him a look which he pretended not to say. “What’s your name, Saxon?”

The Saxon sucked his teeth and narrowed his eyes in thought but did not reply.

“I’m Baron Roger,” Roger said. “This is Henry, my brother-by-law. And you are?” he prompted when the Saxon didn’t respond.

The Saxon replied, “Cerdic.”

One of the squires came around with a note from Henry when Thomasin was readying for dinner. It told Thomasin to come to the servant’s corridor at once. She hurried to finish preparing and went straight to the meeting spot.

“Henry?” she whispered, tiptoeing through the silent hall.

“No.”

Thomasin’s hand flew to her chest in surprise; her fist closed around Henry’s ring. “Charlie,” she gasped. She took a deep breath. “You nearly frightened the life out of me.”

Charlie did not look even the least bit contrite. In fact, he looked murderous. “You can’t let Henry get himself killed for you.”

Straight into arguing, then, Thomasin thought. A gentleman of Charlie’s pedigree ought to feign civility before starting trouble, at least in the beginning of the conversation.

“Do you think I want that? That I’m happy to have Henry risk his life?” Thomasin snapped. “Do you think I haven’t tried to reason with him?”

“You must try harder.”

“I must do nothing of the sort.” Thomasin agreed with his sentiment, but the way he spoke to her made her see red. “You try to reason with him! You’re his brother.”

“I have tried,” he growled, each word as sharp as a razor. “He’s determined to kill himself for you.”

Thomasin was ready to murder Charlie. It was a long time coming. “It’s not my fault that Henry fell in love with me,” she snapped. And that was true, wasn’t it? She hadn’t encouraged his affection, at least not at first. Had she? “I can’t control what he does. Go on hating me if you like, but it won’t change anything for anyone.”

“There’s another way.” Charlie swallowed his discomfort. “If you invite him to share your–”

Thomasin shook her head. “I’ve tried that,” she said, blushing all the way to her hairline. “He won’t. He’s too damn honorable for it.”

“Well you don’t need him to now if it’s already been done,” said Charlie.

“I don’t follow.”

Charlie fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I know about that night at the pond, just before you were injured.”

She shouldn’t be surprised to hear that he knew; they hadn’t exactly been subtle. But Charlie assumed too much.

Thomasin took a deep breath and ignored the feeling of blood rushing into her cheeks. “Henry and I didn’t . . .”

Charlie shut his eyes and tried to be delicate. “Madam, you were unclothed –”

“He didn’t bed me,” Thomasin said strongly. A moment later, she added, “Not quite.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell the king you are not virtuous; you’ll be released from your betrothal without getting my brother slaughtered.”

Thomasin exhaled through her nose. “I’ve considered this course of action,” she confessed. “But it seems unwise to lie to the king, especially for a Saxon. Besides, Lawrence might demand proof. They’ll know I’m lying if they examine me.”

Charlie believed his brother was too fine a man to take advantage of Thomasin, but he was a bit surprised that she was a virgin – or claimed to be, at least. She didn’t possess many virtues that he was aware of, and he hadn’t expected chastity to be one of them.

“It won’t come to that. Some of the men will attest to what they saw that night in the camp.”

Some of the men? Good Lord, how many of them had seen her and Henry together? The fact that any man had seen them meant the whole group knew what happened; gossip spread through camps like wildfire through a dry forest.

Good. Wonderful. Now she was a shrew and a whore.

Charlie was calmer now but his gaze stayed sharp. “My brother loves you. He says it and shows it all the time.”

Thomasin’s throat tightened. “I know.” There was never a doubt in her mind about it. She had the love of a good man. Not many women could say that.

“Yet I’ve never heard you say you love him. I’ve never seen you show it,” he continued. “I won’t let him die for a woman who doesn’t love him back.”

He was right.

She didn’t love him. She couldn’t.

It would betray the promise she made the night her father died never to forgive the invaders that stole her life away. That promise and the anger and pain beneath it were all Thomasin had left of her old self. She doubted she’d ever see any of her siblings again, or her home. That promise was her quiet rebellion against a change she could not fight.

She was allowed to feel tenderness for him, even affection, but she could not love him.

“You don’t know a damned thing about what I feel,” she snarled. She could hardly contain her fury; her whole body shook with the urge to lash out at Charlie and the difficulty of controlling it.

“Perhaps I don’t,” Charlie said. “But don’t allow a good man get killed for nothing.”

Thomasin’s throat was suddenly dry and tight and sore. “I won’t.”

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karlajoyner · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Charlie Gillespie x reader , where Charlie Gillespie is the reader’s boyfriend who dress as a clown for Madison Reys’s halloween party while they were in Canada and where Jeremy and Owen dress as clowns too to scare to Charlie’s girlfriend who is the reader but she hates getting scared.

It’s Stupid (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys so I hope you enjoy this one. I don't know if I'm gonna post the sunset curve one next yet because I have so much to work on for it. So I might post the one after unless you guys are willing to wait! Let me know if you are if you'd just prefer I post the next one!

Requested by: @fantomlovesjuke4ever (Tumblr)

Warnings: None

————

I placed the orange beanie over my head. Finally finishing off my final look.

Giggling to myself I walked out into the living room to see Savannah there in her Kim Possible outfit.

"How do I look?"

"Oh my god Charlie's gonna die!" She laughed throwing her head back.

"You look great"

"Are you sure it's not too....booby" I said moving the muscle tee away from my body to show my black bra. The muscle tee being directly from the show itself courtesy of the wardrobe department.

"It's Madison's Halloween party. I don't wanna show up looking like a slut"

"It's not too booby. You look great plus no ones gonna get to look under there except Charlie" She teased.

I playfully rolled my eyes grabbing a large oversized jacket to cover my costume.

"Where'd Tori go?"

"She went to go check on the boys to see if they were almost ready"

"Oh sounds good. Hey thanks again for letting me room with you two"

"Of course you know you're always welcome when your here. Plus I know Kenny always appreciates that you choose not to room with your boyfriend when you visit us"

"Kenny and apparently Owen too" I said earning a giggle from the girl.

"Tori just texted said the boys are ready and scary"

"Really?"

"Yeah. What's Charlie gonna be this year?" She asked as I grabbed my phone off the kitchen countertop.

"Beats me. He said it was top secret"

"Same for Owen and Jer" She spoke as I received a message from my boyfriend himself.

"Oh" I muttered.

"What's up?"

"Charlie just texted they'll meet us there. Something about needing the makeup department"

"Oh my"

"I just hope it's not anything too scary. I hate anything terrifying. I don't even watch scary movies at night due to the fact that I'm a complete wimp"

"Does Charlie know that?" Savannah bit her lip.

"Of course we've been dating for 6 months. If he didn't I'd be worried" I said walking out the front door.

I sighed stepping out of the Uber taking in the freezing cold air. Nothing too bad.

"How are you not freezing your socks off?" Tori asked.

"Toro you forget I've lived in Canada my whole life. You Californians cannot take the cold"

"Your the female version of Charlie. It's actually crazy" The girl said as she looped her arm through my own.

"Yeah he kinda rubbed off on me" I smiled walking into the warehouse with my two temporary roommates.

Immediately we spotted Madison, Sacha and Jadah.

"Y/n!" Madison and Jadah shouted running up to me.

"There's my angel. And my devils" I grinned at my boyfriends cast mates. Taking in the warmth's of the new surrounding.

"Okay let's see it. I've been waiting in anticipation to see your take on Luke Patterson" I giggled opening up the jacket to reveal the rest of my costume.

"You look great!"

"I think you look better than Charlie"

"Yeah my guns look great too don't they?" I asked flexing my arms causing laughter to erupt from the group.

"Okay seriously though where's my boyfriend and his posse"

"We have no idea"

"I do" Sacha stated smirking at me.

"Are you going to tell me?" I asked.

"Nope" As soon as the word left his lips my phone dinged.

"It's Charlie. He's asking me to meet him in the makeup. Where's that?"

"I'll walk you" Sav said taking my hand. We made it to a large door with windows to peer in.

"It's dark" I stated jiggling the knob to find it locked.

"Well that's weird" Sav said knocked. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the door opened slowly.

"Take my hand"

"Okay Troy Bolton" Savannah said making me giggle. We walked forward slowly my heart dropping feeling a pair of arms grab my waist. I screamed in fear as the lights turned on. The three faces in front of me smiling widely.

"Ahhh" I shut my eyes hugging Savannah tightly. Who seem to have had a similar reaction because she didn't hesitate to pull me close either. My heart beating out of my chest wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry all my anxiety out. We gripped onto each other for dear life as......laughter erupted?

I slowly peeled my eyes open to see Charlie laughing loudly clutching his stomach along with Owen and Jeremy. A frown fell upon my face as I let the light haired girl go.

"Charlie" I whispered a small tear escaping my eyes.

The laughter quickly died down. Charlie's face now expressing concern.

"Y/n baby what's wrong?"

I scoffed walking past Savannah to be anywhere but here.

Flashback

"Come on babe"

"Charlie I'm serious. I hate scary movies and I hate being scared. It sends me into this weird panic mode and I get anxious" I ranted watching him turn the tv off.

"You probably think I'm some sort of freak who can't take a joke. If you don't wanna date me anymore that's fine but just don't make me watch that movie especially right now" I spoke looking out the window into the darkness of the dimly lit street.

"Why would you ever think I wouldn't want to date you because of this?" He asked hurt flashing his eyes.

"I don't know. It's just my past boyfriends have called me lame for not wanting to go out to a scary movie with them at night. Or not wanting to dress up as some sort of badass scary character for Halloween. It just sucks to be left out because of some stupid irrational fear"

"It's anything but irrational. So you got a fear of something. We all do. Hey I'm insanely afraid of spiders"

"Really?" I asked biting my lips.

"Yeah baby. It's a stupid fear I know but something about their long legs makes me just ugh" He said getting the chills.

"It's not stupid. Thanks Charlie" I smiled.

"Anytime y/n. Now come on" He spoke sticking his hand out to me.

"What about the movie?"

"We're still watching a movie. Frozen to be exact. Upstairs in my room, cuddling up in a pillow fort. Sound good?"

"Sounds amazing" I grinned taking it. I sighed contently as he pulled my into a hug.

"I promise I won't scare you or take any of your fears with a pinch of salt"

"I promise to do the same" I said looking up at the boy in front of me. Looking up at the face that I was slowly but surely falling in love with.

I made my way back towards the party immediately spotting Madi and Tori talking. Their eyes landed on me quickly sensing something wrong.

I made my way over to them wiping away the strayed water droplets under my eyes.

"Hey what's wrong?"

"The guys are assholes" I spoke bitterly.

"Did they scare you too?" Madison asked as I nodded. The two understanding me immediately.

"Yeah..... Its just when Charlie and I started dating I specifically explained to him why I don't like being scared and he promised he'd never take that one specific fear and use it against me. And he just scared the living crap out of me and Savannah. Which I'm glad I did figure out it was him and the boys before I passed out or puked. I'd expect it from Owen and Jer but my own boyfriend. I know it's stupid and I probably over reacted but I just- I've always made sure to kill every damn spider in our damn apartment so he wouldn't have to do it. And he does this to me"

"I don't think you overreacted. You have the right to be mad"

"You think?"

"Yeah but I also know Charlie's an idiot and needs to be reminded of things from time to time"

"You're right" I sighed.

"Look he's obviously gonna apologize. Just don't be too hard on him. His memories almost as bad as his handwriting" Madison joked making me let out a strangled chuckle hearing my name being called.

"Y/n! Y/n! Where is she?" Charlie shouted running into the room. The music coming to a halt.

All eyes landed on me as Charlie ran up to me.

"Please continue" I awkwardly chuckled pulling the brunette off into a random hallway.

The loud music blaring through the speakers once more.

"What is it Charles?" I spoke sternly turning around to face the boy who's makeup was much worse than before.

"Y/n baby I'm so sorry we pranked you. The boys convinced me that it'd be funny to get as many people as we could today. I didn't know you'd get so upset. I'll go take off this stupid costume right now if you want me to but please don't be mad at me baby. I love you" He finished nearly out of breath. I took in a deep breath hearing the sadness in his voiced as he had ranted like any other time he screwed up which wasn't very often. But still.

"Do you remember the night we watched frozen in your room?" I questioned nervously playing with the rings on my fingers. Another prop from Luke's character that tied my costume together.

"Of course it was amazing. We made a pillow fort and ate popcorn and afterwards we did stuff that was definitely not pg 13" He smirked making me roll my eyes.

"Do you remember why we watched frozen?" I spoke once more hoping he would get where I was going with my questions.

"Yeah we watched it because- oh. Y/n I'm so sorry. I'm such an idiot I can't believe I forgot about that"

"Yeah......Listen I'm not mad that your a clown which by the way I do happen to also be afraid of too but it's not gonna kill me. And I'm certainly not mad at Owen and Jeremy because they wanted to have a little fun tonight. But they didn't know about my anxiety that I get whenever I get scared. You did Charlie"

"I know I did" He groaned throwing his head back.

"And if my memory wasn't so damn bad I wouldn't have even thought about doing it baby. I hope you know that. And I'll do literally anything to get you to forgive me starting with never putting you through that again when your with me" He spoke taking my hands in his.

I sighed intertwining our fingers pulling him close to me.

"I know you won't. I also might have overreacted a bit" I said nuzzling my face into his chest.

His arms immediately wrapping around me completely.

"You didn't overreact. Overreacting is me when I see a spider. In all seriousness I love you and I'm really sorry for doing that"

"It's fine Charlie. I'll get my revenge on you guys" I spoke kissing his cheek before skipping away back to the party.

"Y-you're what? Wait baby your what? Y/n!" I heard him call after me as I laughed.

————

Up Next: Sunset Curve x Reader (Maybe)

Carrie Wilson x Reader

Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Alex x Male Reader

————

@lolychu @headheartbellarke @bookish0918 @kcd15 @ifilwtmfc @moviesbooksandfandoms @lovesanimals @lavender-writer @kaitieskidmore1 @morganayennefertyrell @iloveteenwolf @ghostofmgg

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

Guess what, guys? IT’S WEDNESDAY! >:D You know what that means~!

TIME TO SHARE!

I’m excited because I finally, finally found the inspiration and motivation to write chapter 13 of my main fic! And I used the good old, ‘And he returned...’ technique! X’D

Time to talk about mages and templars everybody!

“Ma halla,” Cyfrin’s voice came forward, laced with tiredness and unusually serious as his eyes fell upon his sister, “the Chantry has not had control over either side for years. If they had, the Chantry in Kirkwall wouldn't have met the fate that it did.” He picked up the stick they had been using to tend the fire, giving the logs a gentle poke and sending sizzling embers upwards, “Now, it is merely a war of endurance; who can last the longest and who can end it with the most spite, the most damage. Blood will run for many moons as it has for several years now. Except this time, light is being shone on those crimson puddles rather than being mopped up with a," A finger rose to slender lips, a pantomime of silence and secrecy.

Fane sighed, grimacing a bit when Mhairi shifted against his side and watching those embers rise and then blink out of existence. Cyfrin was right. This was a war without end, and each side was merely swinging at whatever happened to move now. Power corrupted, and it had done so in this instance; mages overwhelmed by the taste of air, magic responding with giddy excitement; templars breaking the chains that held their hands and feet in place, as well as their swords. Both had never known what it meant to be free, and now that they had it in aces, they couldn’t cope with it. All the common folk, them included, could do was wait it out, like a parent waiting for their child, who refused to listen, to settle down. That was all there was to it.

Fane slowly rubbed his palms together, wringing his fingers a bit as he spoke, “Whatever it is now, it doesn’t matter. It’s a mess made for a different rag,” With a tired movement, he let his head roll to the side a bit to rest atop his sister’s, relishing in its silkiness. To think, he had almost abandoned that comfort for fear. He continued with another sigh, “All that matters is staying away from it. It isn’t our fight; it never has been.”

Silence passed between them all after his words had fallen, the crackling of the fire and the drone of crickets and cicadas the only sounds to fill the air. Cyfrin only gave him a nod that said, 'I agree' before going back to idly poking at the fire. However, Fane could feel something like a tense ripple from Mhairi, her body suddenly rigid where it rested against him.

Shit, Fane thought, growling a bit as he recognized this rolling wave exuding off Mhairi. He should have kept his mouth shut.

A few more moments of silence passed before the words he had been dreadfully waiting for passed lips gingerly being bitten into.

"Is it really not our fight, though?," Mhairi asked in a sheepish whisper. Fane watched from over his nose as delicate hands appeared from under fur and cotton, pink with Fereldan chill and palms up, "Or at least, my fight? I mean, I'm a mage, so really--"

"Mhairi," Fane cut off his sister's words, voice dropping low in warning, "Whatever's going through your head right now, end it."

Fane caught the flicker of amber from across the way, their owner knowing where this was going as much as he did, but he was more focused on ice as it hardened before him. He was not going to entertain this ridiculous train of thought! Was his sister mad!?

"But, brother--!"

"Enough," Fane snapped with a harshness he rarely used with her, "Do you want a templar on your heels!? Do you want to be silenced again!?"

Nostrils flared as he brandished a glare downwards, but his irritation cooled as Mhairi's icy gaze melted and turned downwards, guilt and pain in turquoise. Fane frowned deeply at that. Shit, he hadn't meant to…! Damn it all! This was why he should have left on his own! All he did was pull down, down, down! He could never find the right words!

"Of course I don't want those things, brother. You know that," Mhairi said with tightness, voice like a taut cord before letting out a tiny sigh, down-turned eyes staring pointedly at her hands--the tools for which another tool could be wielded in, "It just...feels wrong to turn away and let not only the mages and templars suffer, but innocent people, too. The people on farms and in villages didn't ask to be involved, but they are." A gentle blue glow enshrouded slender fingers and smooth palms, making Fane's nose twitch in irritation and his stomach roll uncomfortably, but he watched it same as her, "I guess I just want to help them, to show them that it doesn't have to end in flames. Magic is beautiful, and it hurts to know no one but the Dalish recognize that."

Fane listened, rapt and attentive even though he knew his face showed otherwise. Mhairi had vocalized these thoughts before to him, and while he understood where she was coming from, that still didn't mean this was their fight. What was there to gain from throwing themselves into the pan? Nothing but an early grave, that's what. Or worse yet, tranquility. The very idea of that happening to his sister made him sick. How such a practice came to be was beyond him, and yet, it made his mind prickle and pull with those odd feelings of ‘wrongness’. Obviously, stripping a person of their emotions was vile and grotesque and disgusting, but it felt like something more to him. It always felt like more with so little.

Fane let out a long sigh through his nose at himself and his sister, the air condensing in front of him, "It's not your job to present that to the world, Mhairi." He shifted a bit, the fur lining of his cloak brushing against the bottom of his cheeks as he did so. He was starting to get warm, uncomfortably warm.

"Isn't it?," his sister forwarded, pressed, pushed, sparkling eyes slowly rolling upwards to look at him; the glow of her hands fading away to let firelight take center stage again, "I’m a--”

Fane growled, his chest rattling from the depth of it. “Yes, you’re a mage, My, but that’s more likely to get you killed, or worse, made tranquil than understood,” He met her slowly narrowing gaze unflinchingly before sighing tiredly, shoulders slumping and voice softening at the look of hurt in icy blue, “Listen: stop chasing after trouble. No good can come from involving yourself in this mess,” His tired eyes shifted to the fire once more, watching it dance and consume both air and forest wood, “This continent is engulfed in war, and it’s not your job to fix the mistakes of others just because of what you are. That type of blind thinking is exactly why all that’s happened, happened.”

He felt his fists ball up against where his hands were resting between his thighs from anxiety and frustration, the skin along his arms pinching to where he could finally feel his scars start to act up. Great. Just what he needed alongside all this ridiculousness. Why did his sister always have to play this card? Yes, she was a mage, but there were a thousand more who could, but wouldn’t do what his sister wished to. And why? Because they knew it was pointless as narrow perspectives were set in the stone of ages.

Time and time again mages had tried and failed to show the world the intended use for magic. Time and time again restrictions were set ever tighter because of those harmless displays, the Chantry crying, ‘Demon, demon! Blood magic, blood magic!’, and a single, single show of defense against such accusations was treated as a literal felony. Now, the Fade touched were doing the only thing they could think to do after so many disappointments; fight. A caged animal was bound to break the door holding it back, and that was exactly what had happened to every Circle; they broke.

They went silent, voices stolen straight from their throats, emotions ripped away so as to be unable to defend themselves any longer, and the beauty his sister desperately wished to show no longer relevant as it had no place in war, in a world where beauty was a stranger. Fane didn’t have much allegiance to either side, both were foolish and pathetic and tiring, and despite his personal experience with magic, he didn’t detest it. It had its uses, just not on him and that was because he didn’t relish getting uncontrollably ill. He was open minded enough to know magic hadn’t been the true culprit, it had only been like the innocents in this pointless war; used against its will. It had been the blade that carved the stone of his body, but it hadn’t been the hand to wield it.

So, he would admit he felt sorry for the endlessly warring factions, even the templars despite his personal feelings regarding them. To be played like a fiddle by a bunch of tottering zealots, zealots that used ‘faith’ as their bargaining chip to garner influence and power while declaring, ‘It is the Maker’s will’. Sadly, despite how thin the veil of deceit was, the people fell for it like raindrops during a heavy downpour, fast and hard. Was it the humans’ ‘god’s’ will to rip away independent thought? To sunder the minds of those who broke the leash long having held them back?

To indiscriminately kill another on the basis of ‘you’re a mage’ or ‘you’re a templar’ or ‘you’re a threat to our power’? Apparently so. Tragic, but there was nothing to be done about it now and Mhairi needed to understand that.

She needed to understand there was no ‘beauty’ in war.

Mhairi let out a disgruntled huff before her form shifted away from him to sit up. Fane squeezed his already tight fists tighter, the leather of his gloves creaking from the force as he watched his sister rise up from the log, her action calm, but her eyes and face held frustration in delicate edges and firelit ice. He felt his expression go hard as he sat up straight, silently mourning the loss of momentary comfort. Again, he should have kept his mouth shut. Why did he even try using words?

“I think I can see perfectly well, brother. I saw the corpses mutilated beyond recognition, the burnt buildings and the sacked ones, the people crying over what they lost, children wailing as their parents wouldn’t wake up. I saw,” Mhairi said, lilt strained and lips twitching with the urge to bend downwards as a forlorn mutter came after, “I wish you would stop treating me like I don’t, like a child.”

With that, Fane watched his sister quickly stride away towards where they had pitched tents, darkened cloak fluttering behind her and kicking up the dusting of snow with her partially bare feet. It was only when Mhairi completely disappeared from his sight, safely burrowing into her tent, did he let out a sigh, the exhalation hard and long.

“Damn it all,” Fane cursed out under his breath, bringing hand out and up from his cloak to rub at his face. He felt ten years older all of a sudden. Scratch that, a thousand years older. How much older could he potentially feel at this rate?

“Tactful as always, ma falon.”

----

Fane can be incredibly harsh, and a downright jerk sometimes. He doesn’t mince words or give platitudes. He says it how he sees it.

Tagging: @noire-pandora @oxygenforthewicked @varric-tethras-editor @dreadfutures @the-dreadful-canine @drag-on-age @a-drama-addict @little-lightning-lavellan @whataboutbugs @blueheaded @aymayzing @rosella-writes @1000generations and anyone else that’d like to share! (no pressure! <3)

#wip wednesday #my writing #oc: fane lavellan #oc: mhairi lavellan #oc: cyfrin azurel #cyfrin's baaaack~ >:3 #and mhairi just wants to help #fane wants to STAY AWAY #you can guess how that works out~ >:3 #although. it IS fane's fault when it happens ehehe~ :3 #i'm so happy to be working on this again! X3 #*bonks the unknown dragon on the head* STAHP. BE NICE.#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dai #writing

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dysphxtric · 3 years

Text

Mental Illness - My Mental Health Story

TW: Depression, Anxiety, Self harm, Suicide, Sexual Harassment

“You should smile more.”

“It could be worse.”

“Just don’t think about it.”

These were the phrases I heard throughout all of my elementary and high school years. There was never a time when my peers and teachers, would not mention some bizarre, ignorant statement revolving around mental health. Not to mention, my family also contributed heavily to the stigmatization of mental health issues. Essentially, my family approached the subject of mental health with extreme hesitation, they refused to talk about how it affects people of all age, gender, ethical background (etc.) Every time I would say “I’m feeling lost” my family would automatically dismiss my frantic worries and it was not any different when I went to school. My peers would continuously remind me that my pain was not valid and that I need to stop being so sensitive. My primary parental figures, my mother and brother did not have the adequate knowledge or tools to be able to hold space for me. I would frequently hear my mom say, “I could understand someone suffering from PTSD feeling upset or sad but you’re so young and healthy honey, you have nothing to worry about” or the old classic “Someone else has it worse than you”. Whether I was at home or at school, I heard the same ignorant statements spewing out from what felt like everyone. And I could never comprehend what was the point of these falsely “encouraging” statements and why profusely use them? These kinds of statements do not uplift, nor do they empower those struggling with mental health issues, if anything it makes it extremely debilitating when your emotions are not acknowledged nor validated. One cannot expect to simply brush away another person’s emotion, thought or feeling as though it means nothing.

With that being said, growing up, I lived in a dysfunctional household alongside my mother, my older brother, and my grandmother. My mother would always be juggling work, schooling, and her dating life. My brother was very reluctant about staying home so he would always vanish after school, hang out with friends, party hard and engage with various street substances. Now my grandmother? It was not long after she immigrated that she began to immerse herself within the Jehovah’s Witnesses ideology and “religiously” strayed away from us as my mother likes to say. My mother was never fond of religious practices that were not “orthodox”. My grandmother wanted to indoctrinate my mom, brother, and I into joining her religious little club but failed which resulted in countless fights, yelling matches, and multiple dents left in our walls. The back and forth with the yelling was what scared me most in my childhood even if it was over something as small as not closing the cabinet door. I think it was around this time period I experienced violence/ trauma at home and truth be told I was extremely stressed and anxious all the time as a kid. My mother would cover the punched indents by taking magazines and sticking pages onto the indent. Often times my stomach would turn as I looked at the pages covering the area where my brother punched the wall with brutal force. Moreover, I felt impending sadness because all I ever wanted was for everyone in my family to be able coexist and not argue. I was trying to keep the peace between everyone, yet I was always the one that got caught in the middle of everything whether I liked it or not. I would get blamed a lot for trying to mend things for everyone. Even though all I wanted was the best for all my family members.

Fast forward to my pre-teen/ teenage years. By this point, my brother and grandmother were no longer living under the same roof as my mother and I. My brother was living with his ex-girlfriend while working as a security guard meanwhile my grandmother was living in her own little subsidized apartment preaching the word of Jehovah. At that particular time, my mother and I lived in a marvellous urban semi-detached house in a peaceful neighbourhood. My mother’s boyfriend had moved in with us and for the most part I was really happy because at least it was not just me and her.

My mother’s boyfriend lived with us while I was going to school. He was a really nice, caring and warm-hearted individual although I could never understand why my mother argued with him so much. I once told him “You should propose to her, I can see you two together forever” to which he replied with a welcoming smile.

But eventually just like with all good things, there comes an end. The inevitable breakup my mom went through was very bitter and I had to be there for her. Afterall, I was technically the only child that was around to emotionally comfort her. Ironically, the breakup occurred during the time I was being bullied in school. And it was difficult to be fully present for my mother while dealing with a lot of negativity at school. I had been experiencing cyber bullying on MSN by a bunch of peers calling me “weird”, “ugly” and “different”. To make matters worse, the group of kids that bullied me online ended up following me everywhere I went for recess which posed as a big obstacle for my well being. I had to eat inside the portables when teachers weren’t around or inside the girl’s bathroom stall just to avoid being teased. I never felt like I had a safe space to myself where I could be vulnerable and open up. Not to mention, it was a difficult time and there was practically no one I could confide in. I didn’t have a social circle of supportive friends, after all I was an antisocial person. Fear washed over me as I worried about disclosing my unpleasant experience to my mother because she was already dealing with so much, the heartbreak, the bills, work problems (etc.), it was then and there that I decided to lie instead of telling the truth. Ultimately, lying became my cooping mechanism to deal with the ongoing pain.

I kept up the lying for a long time in order to make it seem like everything was okay. I lied to everyone from family members to school peers to the teaching staff to principals to counselors.

For the longest time, lying sheltered me from all sorts of unnecessary questions. No one could really tell whether I was truthful or disloyal because I was able to make it sound believable. When I was a teenager, I continued to go down the same destructive path by being dishonest with myself and others. Many times, the thought of suicide crossed my mind and when I started to think about it and plan/coordinate the intricate details it did not hit me that something was very wrong, and I needed urgent help. A big part of the problem was that I was so used to downplaying my pain, given my family circumstance and stigmatization I experienced growing up with. There is no denying that I would engage in negative self talk convincing myself that I deserved the pain and suffering for not being likeable enough or for not being smart enough.

Sometimes I think that is the thing… people do not understand that I lied because that was what I was required to do in order to survive my childhood. I, myself do not tolerate lying and I think it is a form of betrayal and if I were to be completely honest, I would have NEVER lied to my mom had it been safe for me to express myself authentically in my household.

I did not live in a household where it was safe to speak my mind freely and disagree with my mother. Disagreeing was always the last thing I wanted to do, disagreeing meant I got the belt, my devices would get confiscated or that I was going to get grounded. They say, “Honesty is the best policy” and I do not disagree however, it is not as black and white as one may think. In my situation, lying was not only an adaptive coping mechanism but it became a survival mechanism to keep me safe from harm/threat.

I did not have very much individuality growing up. I felt as though having an opinion of my own was bad. In order to perpetuate this fixated mindset that I had, my mother constantly deemed certain attributed behaviours or thoughts as “good” or “bad”. So, say you were upset about a recent breakup with your partner, my mother would scoff and say, “You know life isn’t just about love right?” and play it like it means nothing to the person affected by the situation.

The first time I ever felt depressed was when I was 13. At that age I did not understand why I was feeling what I was feeling. All I knew was that there was something wrong with me. It did not help when I was being picked on by my classmates telling me “Go die”, “You belong in a ditch ugly bitch.”

The moment when things started getting out of hand was when I was first started my Art and Family Studies class in the same semester. In both classes I was placed into groups amongst other students. In Family Studies I had to be in a collaborative group that would divide responsibilities and tasks accordingly. When it came to cooking, my group consisted of four snobby, rich yet immature peers who were unwilling to help and contribute in any shape or form, I had to become the bigger person and sure enough I took all the responsibilities on myself. Though, it was not a smart move. But I was super shy and felt anxious to do anything different least to say speak up and advocate for myself, so I did what I had to do which was prepare meals, clean, and wash the dishes. At the end of the day, none of my peers thanked me, the only thank you I got was getting groped while washing the dishes and getting laughed at.

After what happened I ran to my best friend in tears to tell her what happened just to find her say “It’s not that bad, you’ll be fine” I felt like my blood was going to boil and I was about to start fuming. I stood thinking “Huh, that is so weird, is this how you comfort a person after being sexually harassed?”

Not to sound all grim but that experience showed me that no one really cared about me. No one cared that I got groped or how I felt in that moment. Let alone not even my “best friend” who was supposed to fulfill her role and be there for me. All I wanted was comfort and to be heard out. I could not even tell my mother about this experience until I turned 21 because of how ashamed I felt carrying around that experience and not having the ability to open up and mourn what happened that day and to be able to heal that damaged part of myself. I carried that incident with me for 7 years in silence because I was scared of being honest.

That specific experience was very detrimental to my mental health. Everything began to spiral out of control, I sprawled into a dark depressive state. I began to have intense panic attacks, insomnia, forgetfulness (etc.) After a certain duration of time, I had thoughts of suicide lingering at the back of my head. I questioned my worth, my identity, my culture, my everything.

The bullying and name calling persisted and became so intense that I ended up missing weeks of school time. Some of the boys in my Art class found it funny to make fun of my last name and call me “Prostitute”.

One day in the early springtime, my Art teacher noticed the marks on my wrists as I was painting and had not said anything until I made it to my last period class. I was called down to the guidance counselors office and was interrogated with questions.

“It has come to our concern that one of the staff members noticed cuts on your arms.”

I sat in silence trying hard to contain my anxiety.

“Are you struggling with depression or low mood? Is everything okay at home?”

It came to the point when I got so tired of lying about my pain that I admitted “Yes, I am struggling, I need help”. I dived into the bullying occurrences, the cat calling, my low grades, my self-esteem, the groping, my home situation (etc). After that, I was told that my mother would have to be called down to the school for “safety” reasons even though my counselor promised not to disclose any personal information to my mother. My greatest fear was that I did not want my mom to know that something was wrong.

Of course, my mom came to my school. She was told everything that had happened. I met her at the counselor’s office just to find her wailing in distress “You are such an embarrassment” and “Your counselor told me what you did, how could you do this?”. When the counselor gave us resources for help, my mother grabbed the papers and shoved them into the trash, got up and yanked me out the office.

The next three days that followed, my mother withdrew into her room not saying a word to me. I felt really uneasy and upset. She had her right to be alone but locking herself away from me and avoiding communication altogether? Didn’t make much sense.

I felt extremely guilty for not opening up to my mother sooner. But instead of choosing to be compassionate and caring she chose to resort to anger. She furiously blamed me for being “quiet” and “not trustful” which all landed on my shoulders again. It was “my” fault I thought.

Bottling this up resulted in a full-blown mental breakdown. I could not focus or concentrate because of everything building up. It came to the point where my mom had to choose between living in a toxic community or starting fresh elsewhere.

And even though my mother kept subjecting me to her harmful stigmatizations, the transition from my old school to my new one helped me greatly. When we moved away, I gradually started to feel better emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. Very quickly, I ended up adapting to my new high school where I finally made friends.

One thing I cannot deny is that there definitely was a silver lining to all of this. Although I went through severe bullying and torment at school and home, I managed to reclaim my power and through that I discovered my inner peace after being extracted from my toxic high school. The new school that I ended up attending completely changed me and inspired me to become a more authentic version of myself. It was almost as though I did a complete 180°

My new peers and teachers were enthusiastic, open-minded and caring. The new community I was surrounding myself in was a very positive one that broke down stigmas and encouraged deep understanding and acceptance. My mind was blown when I found that it was easier to conversate with girls and guys at my new school, I was gradually becoming confident and more vocal, and I liked the feeling of not hiding myself away from the world. It felt rejuvenating to finally be heard and seen by others.

Slowly but surely, I began to partake in various activities at my school. I joined the Poetry Club which I would have never considered joining had I stayed back in my old school due to fear of how I was perceived. Ultimately, I started caring and nurturing myself more. My new friends supported me, and teachers began to openly listen to my stories and encouraged me to write. When I started writing, I realized that I could use this medium to cope with my depression and anxiety. The acknowledgment made a major difference in my life like never before.

If it were not for the transition from my old high school, I would have not made progress in developing into the woman I am today. I know that I am not my pain, I am not my mistakes.

Do I still struggle and have bad days? Yes, of course. Just like any human being I have my days when I am not feeling the greatest however, I am more open to learning about how to engage with my mind, body and soul in order to soothe myself during turbulent times. I still have that inner critic however, I have been engaging with activities such as bike riding, painting, drawing, and reading to help occupy my mind which as a result has reduced the time that I spend ruminating. Occupying myself has worked magic, I am now able to reduce and control how much time I spend self-loathing, criticizing, and judging myself. Rather than judging every thought, I’ve learned to slow down and observe.

If you stuck along until the end of my story, I want to thank you for reading through my experience. My hope is that my story can shed some light on the myths and stigmas surrounding mental health, especially within the Eastern European community. I want you all to know that you are ALL valid and I wanted to be able to share my story so that my readers know that they are not alone.

#mental health #mental health awareness #depression #mdd #mood disorder #anxiety #gad #my story #hope #bullying #narcissistic parent #end the stigma #recovery #fyp

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