confidenceatitsfinest  asked:

Did someone say headcanons?!?! How about bunny hybrid Jungkook that Jimin found on the side of the road one day. He couldn't just leave the bunny in the rain so Jungkook came home with him. Please and thank you!

@confidenceatitsfinest RINNNNNNNNNN!!! I planned this out for an entire hour with @dullaxe just for you sweets! So I hope you enjoy <3

+ Jimin is grocery shopping one late night because he really wanted to try out this new recipe. When he walks from the supermarket, he sees a silhouette on the side of the road, laying down and shivering. It turns out to be a shivering boy with long ears flattened to his head. He’s unconscious and his clothes are ripped up, ankle bleeding.

+ Jimin panics because he can’t leave him there to die like that. So being the person that he is, he picks him up and walks him to his house which is a block from where he was found.

+ Jimin immediately cleans his ankle while the bunny is still asleep but whimpering, and as he’s wiping the dirt off his his face he can’t help but think how cute he is.

+ He bundles him up with mountains of blankets and sits him on the floor by the fire place, stroking his ears hoping he wakes up soon.

+ The bunny wakes up with the biggest and most beautiful doe eyes that Jimin has ever laid eyes on in his life. Stunned, the first thing he does is ask his name.

+ Jungkook is frightened being in a foreign place, so he is afraid to speak. Jimin explains how he ended up there and Jungkook is in disbelief that someone would care for him like that. His eyes shine in gratefulness towards this stranger.

+ Jungkook had a flashback to the previous nights, his eyes are now dull, as if they weren’t shining just a moment ago; since he remembered his old home; and how his old owner abandoned him on the street @dullaxe

+ The moment he hears Jungkook’s stomach growling, he jumps up to make him food. And then he makes him the dish he was going to try out for himself and ends up just eating ramen instead, while jungkook eats the dish.

+ Since jungkook is all shaken up, he can’t eat it right and his hands are still shaking so bad. So Jimin takes the chopsticks from his hand and feeds Jungkook himself.

+ Jungkook would refuse at first and turn his head away and blush. Jimin would say with a soft and soothing voice, “It’s okay, it’s okay. You need to eat to get stronger.”

+ Jungkook doesn’t look Jimin in the eyes while he feeds him, but he also sees how loving and tender his expression is unlike his old owner; and he feels his heart skip a beat @dullaxe

+ Jungkook accidentally falls asleep on the couch and Jimin sees him and how innocent he looks so he tucks him in and sleeps on the other side of the couch. Jimin couldn’t leave him alone because deep down he knows that he’s grown a soft spot for this cute bun. (Bon Voyage moment :D) @dullaxe

+ Jungkook wakes up in the morning to see Jimin making waffles and the bunny is immediately smitten. His instincts just tell him to cuddle the other man.

+ Jimin goes to work and Jungkook gets hungry. He thinks he knows how to cook so he tries to cook lunch. He tries to remember how is old owner used to cook for them, but he fails miserably and burns the food. He’s frantic and Jimin walks into the scene and he’s scared Jungkook is dying or some shit, but actually he’s crying—he thought he had made Jimin upset. Instead Jimin goes and hugs him and Jungkook is surprised at the affection but he warms into the hug and Jimin let’s him cry it out. @dullaxe

+ They eventually warm up to each other even more. Jungkook clinging to jimin when they go grocery shopping to meet new people.

+ They ask if Jungkook is his, but he hasn’t officially signed papers and it’s too soon for both of them

+ Jimin thinks about going to get the papers but he decides against it, not wanting to scare him off.

+ Every time Jimin comes home from work he is greeted by an ecstatic Jungkook that doesn’t stop bouncing on his toes and looking adorable while telling him how his day went @dullaxe

+ One day they are cuddling on the couch and Jimin gets too close to Jungkook. Jungkook ends up licking Jimin on the nose and Jimin jumps back in surprise.

+ Jimin petting Jungkook’s ears all the time

+ Jimin is surprised to find out that Jungkook loves lamb skewers. “I thought bunnies only ate leaves and stuff.” Jungkook is unamused.

+ Jimin surprises Jungkook by treating him to the lamb skewer shop that’s two blocks from his house. Jungkook gets so excited that he kisses his cheek. They both blush in shock at the affection. They hold hands quietly on the way there.

+ Since Jungkook’s ankle is still injured, he walks a little slow but Jimin always waits for him.

+ Everyday, Jimin changes his ankle bandaging for him. Jungkook finds it endearing how Jimin treats him and takes care of him.

+ Jungkook tries to do it himself one morning while Jimin is sleeping. Jimin wakes up to see him struggling. He pulls his hands away and does it for him. “I didn’t want to wake you up…” he says softly. “You aren’t a burden to care for jungkook. I’m doing it because I—” He pauses. “I really care about you.”

+ Jungkook overhears Jimin talking to Namjoon in the kitchen one day. “Namjoon I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Living with him like this…It’s too much to bear.” But he’s really talking about living with him and not having him be his officially. —Jungkook takes it as he doesn’t want him anymore, like his old owner dumped him on the street

+ Jungkook frantically packs a bag while tearing up, distraught that Jimin no longer wanted him. When he’s almost done packing, he decides against it, throwing the bag into the closet. “I can’t do this.”

+ At dinner he’s fidgeting and squirming. Jimin asks why he isn’t eating his food. Jungkook tries to muster up the courage to speak up. He wants to know if him living with Jimin is a burden to him.

+ Little did he know that Jimin is actually sad because he can’t love Jungkook the way he wants to; he’s not his. He doesn’t think Jungkook will be comfortable changing owners this soon. He doesn’t even know why Jungkook left his old owner. @dullaxe

+ Jungkook ends up breaking down and crying. “Do you not want me anymore??” Jimin is horrified. “What?! No!” Jungkook sobs, “Stop lying, I heard you guys talking.” “That’s not what that was about!” “Then what were you talking about!”

+ Jimin is frantic cause Jungkook is borderline having a panic attack saying: “"I don’t wanna be left alone again! I can’t! Don’t leave me like he did!”

+ “Jungkook no! I was saying I can’t bare to live with you, not knowing if you’re mine or not!” and he gets down from his chair and kneels in front of jungkook holding his hands. “I fucking love you, Jungkook. All I want is for you to be mine. Officially. I— I even picked up ownership papers. I didn’t sign them because I didn’t know if that is what you wanted!”

+ "Y-you love me? You actually want me?” Jimin smiles. “More than anything my little bunny.” Jimin tugs him down into a kiss that has them seeing stars.

+ The next week, they go to the courthouse and finally sign the papers that officially state that Jungkook is his.

+ Jimin ends up taking Jungkook to buy him a bracelet. "Since you aren’t a cat or a dog or anything. Let’s buy you a bracelet, to show everyone that you’re mine.” Jungkook shyly asks if Jimin’s initials could be carved next to his.

+ Jungkook let’s Jimin kneel down and put the bracelet on for him, kissing his wrist in the process.

+ Jungkook finally found his home.


Title: I Love You.

Pairings: Pre-death Kyle Spencer x Female!Reader.

Warnings: Mentions of Kyle’s mother, implied smut.

Summary: Y/N meets Kyle’s mother for the first time and Kyle’s mother isn’t fond.

Gifs: [x] [x] [x]

The dreaded yet inevitable day when she had to meet his mother. Y/N knew nothing about Kyle’s mother and Kyle didn’t seem too keen on Y/N meeting her either.

Was Kyle embarrassed of her? Did he think she wasn’t good enough? She considered backing out, telling Kyle she wasn’t feeling to hot and cancel, but she knew Kyle would be heartbroken.

So here Y/N was, wearing a dress that she wouldn’t usually put on, standing on The Spencer’s doorstep. She hesitantly lifted her trembling hand and knocked on the door; twice for good measure. The door swung open, revealing Kyle who was wearing a flannel and some black jeans. He smiled fondly at her and gestured for her to come in.

Kyle closed the door behind her and inhaled sharply, he had a bad feeling about the whole ordeal. He put in a fake smile when Y/N glanced over her shoulder at him.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Kyle complimented, slipping his hand into Y/N’s and entwining their fingers. His palms were sweaty and he wondered if Y/N noticed. Y/N’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly as he lead her towards the front room where they both took a seat.

A few moments later, Kyle’s mother came into the room and she was the complete opposite as to what Y/N expected. Y/N gulped and offered a faint smile, which Kyle’s mother failed to return. Kyle fidgeted beside Y/N, glaring down at his shoes.

“You have a lovely home, Ms Spencer.” Y/N smiled, removing her hand from Kyle’s to shake his mother’s, but she stared at Y/N’s hand like it had an extra finger. Dropping her hand to her side, she bowed her head as her cheeks heated up more. This was a disaster.

“Mum, how long till dinner?” Kyle squeaked, Y/N frowned at the tone of his voice. It was almost as if he was scared of her.

“A few minutes. Kyle, set up the table.” His mother ordered before returning to the kitchen.

“Would you like some help, Ky?” Y/N queried, following after him to get the forks, knives and table mats.

After finishing setting up the table, Y/N sat next to Kyle and waiting for his mother to come in. She came in and placed a plate in front of Kyle and Y/N.

“Thank you, Ms Spencer, looks and smells amazing.” Y/N grinned, but once again received a cold glare.

Y/N hesitantly started eating after his mother brought in her own plate and started eating.

Y/N didn’t really enjoy the meal, the pasta was a bit over cooked, she cleared her plate though.

She used the napkin that Kyle had given to her to wipe her mouth.

“Would you excuse me? I have to go to the loo.” Y/N lied, standing up.

“It’s up the stairs and the first door on the right.” Kyle smiled.

Y/N nodded and walked out of the room, rushing up the stairs and following Kyle’s directions.

 She locked the door and sat down on the toilet seat, tears pricking in her eyes. Kyle’s mother seemed to hate her, but she had doing nothing wrong.

She wiped her eyes, sniffling slightly. Maybe it would be best if she left and never came back.

She sniffles one last time, glancing at her reflection in the mirror and composing herself. Exhaling, she opened the door and went back down stairs. She stopped at the foot of the stairs when she heard the conversation between Kyle and his mother.

“Kyle, she’s not right for you.” His mother snapped, trying to keep her voice as quiet as possible. “She has unrealistic goals, she’s not the one you should be with.”

Y/N covered her mouth with a trembling hand as she attempted to muffle her sob, fresh tears falling and she didn’t attempt to stop them. She ripped her phone out of her bag and texted Kyle to say that she had to leave urgently as her mother had forgot her keys her house. She opened the door and sprinted out of the door and away from the house. She clambered into her car and sped down the road, wiping her eyes.

Kyle growled as he heard the door slam shut. He glared daggers into his mother.

“You want me all to yourself. Well no. I’m done with you. I love Y/N and I know she’s the one for me. She doesn’t care about my flaws. She doesn’t force me into anything I don’t want to do. I love her.” He hissed, shoving her out the way and leaving the house.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and read the message Y/N had sent him. He wouldn’t let his mother ruin their relationship.

Y/N pulled up into an abandoned car park and rested her head against the steering wheel, sobbing hysterically. Surely Kyle would pick his mother, his own family, over Y/N; it was a no-brainer.

A few moments later, her phone buzzed against her lap. She picked it up and answered it, pressing the phone to her ear and sniffling.

“Baby? Where are you?” Kyle mumbled and even though Y/N couldn’t see him, she could tell he was frowning.

“I-I’m at the abandoned car park near your house.” Y/N hiccuped.

“I’ll be there in a minute, wait for me?”

“Okay.” Y/N complied, saying a quick goodbye before hanging up.

She leaned back against the seat and squeezed her eyes shut. She had no idea what to expect.

Ten minutes later, the passenger door swung open and Kyle crawled in, looking at Y/N with sad eyes. She looked wrecked, her eyes blood shot and slightly irritated, her makeup smudged.

“You heard?” Kyle asked, grabbing Y/N’s trembling hand and playing with her fingers, a nervous habit he had accommodated.

Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice to reply. She stared out the window.

I love you, Y/N. I don’t want anyone but you. I’m certain you’re the love of my life. I don’t care what my mother thinks, you’re my family; not her.” Kyle rambled, eyes welling with tears as he, for the first time, confessed his feelings.

With a shaky breath, Y/N finally looked at him, her bottom lip wobbling.

“Y-You love me?” Y/N rasped, tears falling freely.

Kyle nodded, bringing her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

“More than anything on this earth.”

He tugged her over the console and onto his lap, he buried his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her lovely scent.

“Please don’t leave me just because of what my mother said. I couldn’t live without you.” Kyle admitted, leaning back and staring up at Y/N.

“I wont… I love you, too.” Y/N confessed and placed her lips on his, holding his face in her hands. Kyle’s hands flew to her waist. “I love you.”

Kyle pushed down the shoulder of her dress as they feverishly kissed, Y/N pulled back, eyes blown with lust.

“Are you sure?” Y/N sighed, chest heavy, nibbling on her lower lip.

“I’m sure.” Kyle confirmed before reconnecting the kiss. Y/N dragged her hands along the leather of the seat and grabbed the switch, reclining the chair back.

Perc’ahlia Headcanons Pt. 3

Thanks to @captainofthefallen, more random head canons for how Perc’ahlia could have gotten together! Of course not as good as what actually happened God DAMN it Matthew why did you end the session!? But yes. Here you are.

Keep reading

leslieknopeismyspiritanimal  asked:

Your WIP sounds great! I *love* any kind of college/academia AU, and I'm writing one myself. :) You're so sweet to do the word game, and if you're still doing it..."hesitant."

Aw, thank you! <3 I love them too, and I can never get enough of reading them, so I look forward to yours! :) I’m actually writing two…I was supposed to be finishing the other (where Derek is a graduate student with a terrible love life), but I didn’t realize this one would turn out to be so long. Why can’t I write faster!!

I don’t have “hesitant,” but I do have “hesitated,” so let’s go with that. This is part of the section I’m working on right now, so spoilers a-plenty!

Give me a word, I’ll give you the sentence (or sentences) it’s in! For this fic.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Derek asked. He hesitated, his fingers brushing the surface of a bottle in his wine rack. “Water?” he ventured.

“I’m twenty-one,” Stiles said after sucking a stray bit of artichoke-spinach dip from his thumb. “If that’s why you’re being weird about offering me wine. I’m legal as legal can be. Turning twenty-two in a few months, even.”
One Plus One (Equals Three) - Chapter 1 - GloryDaze - Frozen (2013) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

So.. I’m back again. I can’t seem to stay away, but please don’t make me regret this. I’ll be re-releasing chapters every other day or so, and hopefully by the time we get to the last chapter, I’ll have something nice and new for you guys! 

Let’s talk about God and girls and gods and girls and how the universe has enough space for only one and so, it put God into girls and gods into girls and she – I – we are all on a lifeboat in the ocean trying not to drown. The girl I used to be is an anchor in the sea, is an oasis in the desert, and I wish I had treated her more kindly, but all I can do now is listen to the bird humming  in my chest – one two three one two three it sounds like a heartbeat I’m worth it we’re worth it.
—  salvation pt. v | m.j. pearl

throwback to an hour ago when literally four different girls at the SoFem meeting who either have worked or currently worked for Planned Parenthood tried to explain how the title ten funding works and the mansplainer in the room had to tell us that “well, actually, money can be moved around for different things including abortion” because OBVIOUSLY as a poli sci majorwho has never been involved with the organization on any level would Know Best. 

Overwhelming II

(part I)

To the anon who requested this story in the first place - I hope I’ve been able to do this justice! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this. :)

They meet at the coffee shop. That morning he paces in his room trying to decide what to wear. He wants to look nice. But not too nice. Being comfortable is of the utmost priority, as he’s already nervous enough. The feeling of the fabric can’t add to the stress. So he dons a well-worn sweater, and makes his way through the city.

By the time she arrives, he’s sitting at a table already, his fingers tapping out a steady tempo on the tabletop. One two three four, one two three four.

Her face lights up, and her smile reaches straight through to his heart. Is she smiling because of him? It’s contagious, and he finds himself trying to control his grin as she makes her way over to him. Her dress has flowers on it, her sweater is blue. It looks soft, so different from the hard plastic of the chair he sits in, from the lightweight fabric of the shirt he wears; chosen specifically for its near-absence of texture. Soft is good, better than absence. It is gentle, soothing. All of her is softness, that is the feeling she creates. Soft eyes, soft smile. A tenderness that envelops him, like a thick blanket on a cold winter day.

Reid stands, stammers out a “H-hey. You, uh, you look really nice.” That word again. Nice. Nice is not enough. It is a filler for the words he can’t seem to find.

“So do you, Doctor.” Early on in their friendship, she took to using his title as a term of endearment. When she says it, those two syllables sound so new. So special. Every word that falls from her lips sounds different to him, and he has spent a great deal of his life being all too attuned to the subtle differences in noises. “Shall we get some coffee?”

Money feels terrible in his hands, dusty paper, exchanged so many times between strangers. Contaminated by germs and who knows what else. He pays, trading the feeling for the warmth of a coffee cup. Heat that seeps through the Styrofoam and warms his hands.

There is a mental list he has of the pros and cons of coffee shops.

Pros: coffee, comfortable armchairs, convenient locations, a good place to sit and read during quiet hours.

Cons: paper money, loud noises, crowded rush hours, the uncomfortable feeling of sitting alone when others are surrounded by friends.

Pro: Y/N.

All negative aspects are outranked by the fact that Y/N is here, and he is with her, and this is a date. She wants to be on a date with him.

It starts easily enough. They talk about work, she asks about their most recent case, and he tries to tell her about the killer who left bodies in the path of tornadoes in terms acceptable for public settings. He has learned that there are times and places for details about crimes, and afternoons in coffee shops do not fall into that category. And yet, even in glossing over the details, she understands. She knows what it’s like to face depravity and horror in the world. That alone is incredibly comforting.

When he tells her his stories, she does not shy away from them. Does not judge him for his outpouring of emotion, or his lack thereof. She listens. She gets it.

There is nothing he’s ever wanted more in this life than to feel understood.

Well, except maybe to be loved. If this goes well, perhaps that too can morph from far-off dream, to reality.

“Tell me something new,” she urges. Her hands rest at the edge of the table, just within reach. It would be so easy to reach out and touch her, to take her hand in his. That requires courage though, something he is still building up.

Instead he says, “Don’t you ever get tired of listening to me ramble about things?”

It’s a fact of life. Just as the universe will always move towards entropy and disorder, everyone will eventually get tired of him. They roll their eyes, elbow him, cut him off mid-sentence. Why is it that someone who is so good with people chooses to be around him, when he’s so awful at relating to people? When he can’t read a vast number of social cues?

Just as she opens her mouth to answer him, the sound is drowned out by newcomers. A large group of teenagers, all laughing and talking loudly pile into the small café.

The volume increases. Sunlight comes in so bright through the windows. His shirt feels too tight, too heavy on his skin. As though a keyboard is affixed to the underside of the table, his fingers begin to tap out a steady rhythm. One two three four.


Through the mass of incoming stimuli, her voice swims upstream to reach him. He pulls himself out of his quicksand thoughts, a quagmire of his own creation. This is one thing he doesn’t want to mess up.

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening.” No, that’s not the right thing to say. In the middle of their conversation he is blanking, struggling to think of what he should do. When under stress, the brain goes back to the familiar. “Have you read anything good lately?”

Reading. Books. Books are safe. They are good things. One two three four.

The pack of teenagers break into fits of laughter that echo through the small space. They remind him of the same teenagers who tormented him in school, preying on his weaknesses, his weird habits. He has always known he’s not like the others, always known he’s a little odd. Would Y/N ever laugh at him for his quirks and eccentricities? They’ve been friends for a while, but a relationship is an utterly different thing.

“Actually, I re-read Wuthering Heights last week. In high school it was one of my favorite books.”

Would she ever really be able to love someone like him? His feet begin to tap in synchronization with his fingers. It happens involuntarily. Nearly every interaction in his entire life has reinforced the notion that he is hard to work with, hard to listen to, and hard to love.

Without thinking, he responds, “Why on earth would you choose Wuthering Heights? Of all the Brontë novels, it’s the most contrived and boring.” Her smile falters just a fraction of an inch, immediately alerting him to his mistake. This is what happens when he’s running on autopilot, so overwhelmed with everything else in his immediate surroundings.

In the back of his mind, he considers the ever-growing list of rules for social interaction. What he said as made someone upset. To remedy that, he should apologize. Be sincere.

One two three four one two three four.

“W-wait, I… I didn’t mean th-” Across the table he stretches his arms, trying to gesticulate that he means it, that the last thing he wants to do in this world is offend or hurt her. This is a world that is not so forgiving of him though, and Reid’s hand smacks against her coffee cup, spilling the contents all over the table and onto her dress.

Confusion turns to surprise, and she jumps up from her seat. “I’ll be right back,” she says, hurrying away.

No. Oh, no. Now he’s done it. Just like that, he has ruined this one chance. Insulting your date, and then spilling their coffee on them is not good. It is the opposite of good, or nice, or any other words.

People continue to laugh. The fabric of his socks presses against his toes, the weight of his watch rests on his wrist even through his sleeve. The music playing from the speakers seems to have been amplified considerably, everything feels amplified considerably. Every sound, color, sight, smell. The scent of coffee grounds permeates everything and he can’t turn anything off can’t get rid of anything can’t make it all stop –

The space around him implodes. At once his thoughts both dissipate and multiply. His breathing hitches, the oxygen seems to have vanished from the room. It’s too warm there, too hot, too everything for him to possibly think straight.


It begins as it always does for him. Tapping out patterns isn’t working, and he takes to fidgeting, folding and unfolding his hands, crossing his arms, crossing his legs, uncrossing everything. Quietly he hums to himself, curls his hands into fists. Fingernails digging so tightly into skin they leave angry red marks.

Y/N is still not back, and he doesn’t know how to fix this, doesn’t know what to do. It’s still too loud, still too much. Reid bites his lip, places his hands over his ears, slowly rocks back and forth ever so slightly. Forwards and back. For-wards-and-back.

His throat goes dry, has the room started spinning?

She will not love him and she will not like him. He is unlovable, as he always has been, and he will end up alone. Alone alone alone. Alone. The very thing he fears most. There is a vast dissonance between an introvert seeking solitude, and the permeating loneliness that prolonged isolation brings.

In the midst of the overwhelming over-stimulation, one sound comes through. “Spencer, what’s wrong?” Her voice rings, clear as bells, resonating in his bones. It is a question, but at the moment he doesn’t have the words to answer. Just bites his lip and shakes his head. Will she leave? Will she laugh?

What happens next takes him by surprise: “Hey, I’m going to grab your hand, is that okay?” For some reason she is asking for his permission, and she speaks with tenderness. Somehow he manages a nod, and her fingers find their way around his, gently pulling him up from the chair. Y/N grabs their cups, tosses them in the garbage as she carefully and slowly leads him out of the café.

Outside the world is bright and traffic whizzes by with a cacophony all its own, but she continues on, two buildings over. The short amount of steps to get there feels endless, every movement so heavy, but he follows, holding tight to her hand.

Every detail is observed, but not processed. They go through a red door. Inside are shelves and shelves of books. There aren’t many people there. Observations he’ll go over when his mind stops racing and his heart stops threatening to jump out of his ribcage.

There are armchairs in the very back of the building, and she leads him to one, sits him down, and then kneels before him. Bit by bit, he takes it all in. It his quiet here, the reverent silence books command. The colors are soft, muted; the lighting is warm and a softer glow than the sun. She squeezes his hand, and the pressure is comforting. With cautious movements, she dares to take his other hand, and he can’t explain why this gesture is so soothing, but he doesn’t want her to let go.

His heart rate steadies. Onetwo three four. Oxygen returns to the atmosphere they breathe. Minutes slip by unnoticed, and Reid comes up from air, emerging from the drowning depths of perception and senses.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” It is a mantra she repeats to him. “Take your time. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” The burden is lifting, her kindness alleviates the tension he is trying to shake. Alleviates. A-L-L-E-V-I-A-T-E-S. Uh-lee-vee-ates. One two three four.

When his lips relearn how to move, his teeth and tongue regain their function, and his mouth reconnects itself to his brain, he asks, “How?”

Y/N shrugs. “My college roommate. She had anxiety attacks often.” Simple as that. Looking straight at him she adds, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He needs to tell her, tries to clarify. “Yes, but it’s not the same. I – I’m – I have…There’s this thing called Asperger’s and-”

“I know,” she says. “I know, Spencer.”

“And that doesn’t… it doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it?” Why would it? He can think of so many reasons why it would bother her, so many things he has convinced himself are true. “I don’t know everything about it, but you can teach me. I want to learn, and I love learning from you. Because I care about you. That doesn’t change because of what you have. It’s just a part of who you are, and I love who you are.”

In that musty book shop, beautiful in all its quiet perfection, he realizes that Y/N is essentially telling him that she loves him. Loves. L-O-V-E.

Kneeling before him is someone who doesn’t flinch away from anything he throws at her. She accepts him wholeheartedly, holds his hands as he panics. Nobody else has ever made him feel so at home in their presence, and he is struck with an aching need to belong by her side.

One two three four. “I love you so,” he murmurs, overwhelmed by something that feels like joy. Content. He feels elated, and this sort of overwhelming doesn’t feel like drowning. It rather feels like floating, feather-light and carefree. “So much, Y/N.”

A smile graces her face once more, and those eyes of hers light up like the stars, putting the constellations to shame. “I love you, too.” She stands, and sits on the arm of the chair. Every action is deliberate, with enough warning for him to move away if it becomes too much.

She leans in to place a careful kiss on his forehead. One.

She kisses his left cheek. Two.

His right. Three.

At that she pulls away, leaving only a few centimeters between him, as she stares at him. Waiting, not wanting to overstep any boundaries just yet. It is unclear what they are or what they will become, but he knows that she holds a special claim to his heart, as he does to hers. There are so many things he could say, so many things he could do, countless permutations of possibilities before them. There will be a time and place for all those things, all the conversations they will have. All the explanations he will give to help her understand him.

At the moment, there is only one thing he wants to do. Delving deep for all the confidence he possesses, he closes the distance between them again, and laces his fingers between hers.

Their lips meet, and there is coffee on her breath and nothing has ever felt as deliciously overwhelming as this.