#anyway it was the best experience of my life and i am never going to be normal again.

[livingsurreal]

More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it.  He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to  get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.  

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

[qu0thther4ven]

Shifting Success ♡

Last night before going to bed I did a meditation on youtube and felt pretty good about it. I had tried it once the night before and it gave me crazy dreams which I associate positively with shifting. Last night I had another crazy dream. At some point during the dream I became lucid, however because the dream was so scary I didn't want to try to shift through it so I just woke up instead.

Scary dreams tend to stay in my mind, but lucid dreams always make me feel really powerful so after lucid dreaming I decided I would shift. I was sort of half asleep at the time but felt very confident that I could do it, so I just decided I would, said so, and went back to sleep.

The bad thing is that I didn't really decide where I wanted to shift to and instead because I had been thinking about that bizzare dream I had just before I wound up becoming aware of this strange reality that was like sort of related to the dream that I had just had.

Because I had lucid dreamt just before shifting I can say with complete certainty that they are entirely different things. They felt so so different, my dreams can get pretty realistic too but it's not like actual living. However shifting very much is actually living. It was such an odd experience honestly.

I woke up and I knew that I was like actually awake and not just in a dream again. I was in a bedroom that I knew distinctly was mine but was nothing like my cr room. Two of my siblings were in the room and they were the same age as me which was super weird since in my cr we are all pretty scattered age wise.

Some of the things that really confirmed it for me were my memories, comfort, and perspective. When I looked around the room I remembered random things about the items in there just like I would in my cr. The best example was when I was talking to my siblings and gathering clothes to change out of my pajamas and I distinctly remember looking through the underwear drawer of all places and looking for one of those pairs with like the day of the week on it of all things.

The fact that I not only knew that I had those without ever seeing them but also that while I was looking my mind wandered to a memory of when I went shopping with my friends and we all thought it would be funny to buy those and so we did. My mind wandering like that is something that happens to me a lot in my cr but never in my dreams.

Another thing that really struck me was the perspective. Real life as we know it is lived through first person on a day to day basis. Often in my dreams the perspective will shift rather like a tv show or movie. I can't remember a dream that I have ever had, lucid or not, where the perspective didn't shift or things didn't distort oddly. But that didn't happen to me at all, it was all real and tangible and first person the whole time.

Anyway this is getting way too long but I hope it's helped someone. After almost five years of trying (i know crazy right) I have shifted. Was it to where I wanted? no. Did I decide to come back as soon as I recognized what was going on cause I got scared? yes! but I still did it. And now I know that I am capable, and that's all I really need.

[crazylittlejester]

Unsure if you’ve answers this already, but what’s the rest of the chain doing in your modern au?

I don’t think ive ever really talked a lot about it like, in depth, but im more than happy to because i love my au and my silly guys :)

my bad for spelling errors i am Stupid 💔

Time: (46) Lives on the ranch with Malon. He worked full time as a mechanic before he met and married Malon, and he still works at the same place just SIGNIFICANTLY less hours because he’s also doing work on the ranch. He also plays guitar as a hobby, he played more when he was younger but Twilight’s BIGGEST flex in middle and early high school was that his dad owns some fuckass guitars

Hyrule: (20) He really really really likes rocks and being outside so he’s going into geology because he wanted to dig in the dirt and find special rocks. Sometimes Twi will text him like “bro where are you?” and if he even has service Hyrule will just send him a pic in the literal middle of fucking nowhere. Hyrule lives with Legend in the same apartment as Wars, Twi, and Sky, EXACTLY one floor below them

Legend: (20) Political science major, because he was running out of time and had to pick something. He’s not super sure what he wants to do, he has like, no plans, he didn’t think he’d be alive this long and have to DO something with his life. He works at the same little coffee shop as Sky, and those two are good friends. Every time Wars is being too loud above him (jumping, screaming, dancing) he will get up on his table and smack the ceiling and yell, or he’ll leave him angry voicemails. He left the dorms because he couldn’t handle being in the room next to Wars’s dramatic ass, he was DEVASTATED to discover all he did was move in underneath him

Wild: (19) He’s doing fashion/arts and he really really likes photography. He’s a retired skater (same as Wars) and on good days he can move around alright with minimal pain, but it’s not uncommon for him to use a mobility aid. He’s very good friends with Wars and sometimes they’ll fuck around at the rink together, other times when he has five minutes to spare Wars will drive him around and they’ll go to parks and just sit. They’re each other’s oldest friend and they both left a sport that was literally their entire world and its been hard to adjust to life without competitions but they’ve got each other. Wars makes a very serious effort to meet up with Wild 2-3 times a week

Four: (19) He’s a blacksmith, like his grandpa, but he got roped into this mess of a friend group somehow anyways. He finds most of them to be far too loud or dramatic, but they’re his best friends and he’s stuck with em

Wind: (16) He’s still in high school, but he does band and soccer. Wars took him skating ONCE because he used to babysit him, and Wind kinda got obsessed with the idea of what he calls ‘knife shoes’. Of ALL the people Wars has taken to the rink with him (who have no prior experience skating), Wind is the best. He’d be able to fuck around and play ice hockey with Wars, he’d get his ass beat if he went against an actual hockey player, but he can play a simple friendly game with Wars if Wars agrees to it

and then for anyone unfamiliar with the au!!:

Wars: (20/21; depends on what time of year I write the au in, because everything is just about their last year of undergrad and he’s a December birthday) He’s a retired figure skater who holds a world record and several gold medals, and he won the hyrule equivalent of the olympics at 18. He’s a dance major now, he’s been doing ballet since he was 3 and he never quit it, and he’s gone pretty much all day during the week because he goes skating for two hours before class, his last class ends at 5:30, and then if he’s actively in a show rehearsal ends at 10. Weekends are his only time to breathe but he’ll still have rehearsal from 1-6 and will hit the rink from like 10-11 unless Sky and Twi get on their literal hands and knees and BEG him not to because they miss him and “when will my husband return from the fucking war??”

Twilight: (21/22; his birthday is March) Bio/chem major with the intent to become a vet for ranch animals. He LOVES animals so so so so much, and he has a rather bad habit of bringing home sat wet creatures to his adoptive parents/aunt&uncle Time and Malon who just need a little extra love, including but not limited to: Several dogs, several cats, an injured bird, Warriors, a baby deer. Most of these things get taken care of and then released or Time helps them get adopted, and others get kept (at LEAST four dogs (including a very fluffy one named Wolfie), Wars, and two cats)

Sky: (21) English literature major who wants to become a teacher because he had an awful time as a disabled kid in school and he was made to feel stupid and he NEVER wants a kid to have that experience. It broke his heart to realize Wars had that experience too and still thinks he’s stupid, but Sky is determined to be the kind of english teacher you remember DECADES after you leave grade school because they were so important and changed your life. His gf Sun also loves english literature, and they go on dates to the library together and it’s just disgustingly sweet. He’s living out his best coffee shop romance au life because he does in fact work at a coffee shop and he did in fact fall in love with the girl who came in and ordered mint tea at 4 pm on the dot every day he just so happened to be working

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

So I have chronic nosebleed problem…

(spoiling bc it’s really gross to even talk about and most people don’t like talking about blood) (no pictures or anything like that though just text) (only typing this because it was a weird fucking experience and I need to tell someone or I’m going to go insane) (⚠️‼️I warned you‼️⚠️)

And today I got the worst nosebleed probably in my entire life since I started getting them like 14 years ago. The blood was dripping really fucking fast to the point that there was almost no space in between each drop. I’m not on blood thinners or anything but for a bit there I was worried that it might never end. After a few minutes of this, letting it drip into the sink, morbid curiosity got the best of me. I plugged the bottom of the sink and let the blood pile up at the bottom without running water or anything, I wanted to get a visual for just how much blood I was losing.

My nose kept bleeding for over an hour, and it only started slowing down in the last 20 minutes or so. The entire bottom of the sink was a pool of blood deep enough that I could submerge my hand in it (my hands already had blood on em and I was going to clean everything and then wash em anyway, so I had to at least see how deep it was. Yes that is a weird and gross thing to do, but I was bored after sitting there letting my nose drip into a sink for over an hour, don’t judge me).

(Even more disgusting text below warning)‼️

And because blood isn’t really just a liquid it was a really weird texture, kind of like pudding that congeals and has that mass on the top when it cools, it was like a semisolid mass submerged in water. I could grab the mass and squish it through my fingers. It was so fucking weird idk if I’ve ever seen a liquid or semi-liquid with textures and properties like that. It was kind of cool, in a weird nasty way. I realized that’s probably not a thing most people get to or have to experience. The blood was kind of cold at that point, nearing room temperature.

It was really interesting getting to see just how much blood I lost from a nosebleed that bad. Normally I’m constantly trying to plug the bleeding, clean the sink, or fill the sink with a pool of water to drip into so it doesn’t make as much of a mess, or am in the shower, so even if I spend an hour bleeding into a sink I have no clue how much I’ve actually lost. I’ve heard people say that if you feel dizzy or weak after a nosebleed (or when they draw a small vial of blood for a blood test) that it’s mostly placebo making you feel that way, not the small loss of blood. But that was soooo much more than a vial for a blood test. I feel physically weak and woozy. I’m really dehydrated too. It’s neat to know it’s not just a placebo I was right all along.

[juniestar]

Oh my god one last thing my ex took me to outside lands and when we tried to watch lana del rey he laid down on the grass and had a “panic attack” (this was after months of him talking about how he didn’t like her) so we went to see foo fighters after a bit and he was FINE

[caterpillarinacave]

Cannot possibly explain how much I, an incredibly lonely autistic child, love and have always loved Henry Fairchild

[mellohimelody]

hi ash how are you doing? :]

hi artie!!!!!! sorry ik i kinda like disappeared but i’ve been competing in a film competition in california for the last couple of days!!!! it was wild and included events such as winning five awards, almost kissing my best friend, getting mass amounts of sunburn, and making some of the best packages i’ve ever made. but i am now back and will continue to be insane abt block men!!!! how did the rest of your trip go? :D

[giantkillerjack]

This is the kind of shitty trope that can only be worth anything but a purposeful and mindful inversion of the trope, which not everyone can pull off well, though I believe it is possible.

Another separate example of a shitty harmful trope that only truly becomes worth anything when it is inverted is the trope of "a timeskip has happened, and now to show that the character has turned into a pathetic disgusting loser, they have become FAT." -- This is my least favorite trope of all time, and it genuinely makes me lose some of my will to live.

But the inversion of that trope is like the end of the novel series my wife is writing, in which there is a timeskip and the main character is now chubby -- and this is framed as a clear sign of healing and growth for this character who has been underweight and malnourished for 3 books up til now!! -- As a fat person trying to recover from an eating disorder, this makes me feel seen and happy and loved! (I LOVE MY WIFE.)

Similarly, with the "disability reveal illiciting fear and pity" thing, it's like @cripplecharacters said: the issue is the fear and pity, especially when framed as an obvious and natural reaction from neutral or good characters.

And now before I list some ideas for inverting the trope, I wanna give the caveat that if you are not representing a disability that you have, you should first and foremost ask yourself why you want a remarkable reveal of the character's disability in the story in the first place:

-- What function does it serve? What feeling is it meant to evoke from the audience? (Fear, pity, shock, or disgust = bad answers.) Is this a matter of making disability a spectacle[bad]? Is this a matter of body horror[very bad in relation to disability]?? or is it a genuine educated attempt to represent someone from a community you aren't a part of[has the potential to be okay]???

Ideas for inversions:

The people expressing shock/pity/disgust/fear are explicitly framed as FUCKING ASSHOLES for doing this, who are eventually INVALIDATED by the larger narrative, which is committed to proving them to be in the wrong by centering the disabled character as a hero. -- The disabled character is a bigger character than any of the assholes, with their own inner life, active agency in the story, and pain response to being treated poorly. Perhaps they make the assholes look like ignorant fools in the very same scene! (Note: if you are representing a community you are not a part of, this kind of nasty prejudice is NOT OKAY TO PUT IN JUST FOR ~FLAVOR~. You need to have something to SAY about it with your storytelling beyond "isn't that just so sad that some people are mean to cripples??", or else you're a hack for ***exposing your disabled readers to a painful reflection of their own trauma for no good reason.***)

The disabled character has their own inner life and active agency in the story; and when they reveal their disability, it is met with delight and excitement - perhaps by another major character with a disability who feels pride and comradery over this in their current situation.

It's possible to have a good scene where someone reacts wrongly with pity/ignorance to a disabled character, and then the disabled character (a full character who is in the story for more than just this purpose) carefully and generously explains why this is harmful -- with the ableist character apologizing and meaningfully changing their behavior. But tbh it is more likely that this will end up as a stilted and unnecessary scene if you are not a disabled person yourself. Especially if you aren't consulting actual disabled people.

There is no grand reveal, but rather a simple acceptance and even celebration of disability. Characters have totally awesome wheelchairs; people with scars and unusual body types have loving partners and active sex lives; characters are not considered unworthy of being the story's hero just because they are disabled!

The Jaws Effect is dangerous and even deadly, but the flip side of that coin is GOOD representation for us, in which we get to be full characters that have hopes and dreams and fears outside of just being disabled setpieces for abled characters to react to!

If showing wheelchair users as inherently miserable only serves to make real wheelchair users actually miserable because abled people end up thinking that our lives are hell and therefore we need endless harmful "hLep" and dangerously dehumanizing pity that veers into eugenics......

Then the opposite of that would be to show how FULL our lives can be! How we are still entire complex humans, who don't need to be magically turned into abled people to remain a part of the story!! Our chairs are GOOD and offer FREEDOM, and showing a wheelchair user going about their life and being part of the story can go a long way towards communicating that, even without focus on the disability itself as part of the narrative!

How could I do a "classic disabled reveal" (Example: The guy reveals that he has a mechanical limb and the spectators feel pity/scared) in a better way, without using the tiring tropes and drama?

The thing is, you can't.

The tired trope and the drama, is, in fact, the 'pity' and the 'fear' spectators feel at seeing a disabled person and a sign of their disability.

That is what's tired, not the dramatic moment of the reveal. The reveal itself is whatever.

The tired trope is that disabilities and signs of them are something you should be scared of, that you should pity, that you shouldn't be seeing or have them being shown to you.

And this trope is not harmless, and it hurts real disabled people in the real world. It extends to people's feelings about real disabled people, the way they treat real disabled people. It contributes to thinking that disability is something inherently scary, bad, and required to hide. Disability is neutral, not the end of the world.

Someone having a disability is not automatically scary nor something to pity. Someone having a visible disability is not automatically scary nor something to pity. Disabled people are just people living life. Disability is a part of their life, our life.

Here is a post on the "Jaws Effect." Please read it and take it into consideration.

Hope this helps you understand.

– mod sparrow

[kiss-inthekitchen]

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him. 

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.  

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone. 

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet. 

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum. 

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?” 

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.” 

“Yeah.” 

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do. 

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics. 

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice. 

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.” 

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.” 

“But I think I should be right more often than that.” 

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock. 

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.” 

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?” 

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?” 

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.” 

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while. 

“Spence?” 

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door. 

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.” 

“I’m already inside with the door locked.” 

“Man, I’m good.” 

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already. 

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.” 

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.” 

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.” 

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice. 

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic. 

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does. 

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster. 

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.” 

You laugh. “For the whole day?” 

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.” 

“Okay, rest day all day.” 

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.” 

“Maybe the floor.” 

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?” 

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.” 

“Say no more.” 

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.” 

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?” 

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.” 

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.” 

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke. 

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.” 

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?” 

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.” 

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.” 

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates. 

You let out a little gremlin laugh. 

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone. 

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’. 

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs. 

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.” 

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’” 

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.” 

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part. 

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.” 

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.” 

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.” 

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.” 

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?” 

“I’m going to hold you to that.” 

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird. 

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him. 

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice. 

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh. 

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it. 

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes. 

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.” 

“We did.” 

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.” 

“And I love you.” 

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy. 

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him. 

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters. 

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon. 

[gia-d]

Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

[uyuforu]

Uranus in Solar Return Charts

Can we please stop associating Uranus with break ups or sudden horrible news in SRC????? Like this planet represents sudden change and unexpected news, yet it doesn't necessarily means it's bad, hold your horses. I'm so pissed at seeing only bad and negative observations about Uranus in Solar Returns, I decided to explain how Uranus actually play in your life yearly with my own SRC.

Anytime I had Uranus somewhere in my SRC, it mostly represented something that changed very suddenly.

Uranus 9H= I was going on trips very suddenly, unexpectedly but had good memories. Ruler of the 9H was Aries (fast trips/ week ends) and it was in 12H (trips). Ruler also conjuncted Juno and I was mostly doing these trips with my ex.

Uranus 6H= "funny" thing is that I had this placement during COVID time, and I was still at college, so my routine was def changed suddenly when we had to learn from home 100%.

Uranus 11H= This placement was in the same house as Chiron, and I suffered from losing friends this year. It was my first year of college and I didn't have many friends. Yet, sudden change since I met my best friend this year too! Moreover, 9H Ruler was Uranus and I was entering College, which created a huge change in my relationships since I met a lot of my current friends there. I also had a specific internet friend who helped me a lot that year.

Uranus 3H= This was tricky to understand at first, yet I remember this year I moved to country side of my country and was cut from seeing my friends, etc. So I was very much online in general and I was trying to meet more friends online. I indeed met my FS online this year (3H ruler in 7H) and it was very sudden!

Uranus 12H= This one was def harsh for me. I was moving abroad, living in a completely different culture than mine and honestly, I felt very lonely there. It was a true experience to have yet I was crying often. Yet, I also learned how to be more independent and enjoyed this alone time I had, to have more freedom and I appreciated to be by myself.

Uranus 10H= This is the placement I had this year lol. People said it means being fired from your job (why so negative) but that didn't happen lmao. My Natal 10H stellium would never. Though! This placement was exactly what it meant: me leaving "normal jobs", to get into a less conventional one. I was entering a liberal job, and something being online. This idea also came in a very unexpected way.

Uranus 7H= This is the placement I have for my next SRC, which is very soon! Many people associate this with breakup and tbh why not, Uranus meaning big big changes and sudden ones can actually transform this way. Yet, I am not in a relationship. And Rulers are def something to look at. I def think it means more sudden things happening in your relationships, and unexpected change. Things can change very fast or happen very fast. Ruler of the 7H is in 10H, and being Venus, I don't think it means a break up. Rather, 7H ruler in 10H can be an official and serious relationship. So this can translate either meeting someone and being in a relationship with them quite suddenly or being in a relationship with someone quite unexpectedly.

Anyway, hope it helped and please check more than just a planet in your houses!!

JULY BOOKING OPEN

email adress: tarotjunoboda@gmail.com

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[itneverendshere]

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Until now.

Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit. 

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy. 

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.

“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle. 

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”

And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it��

You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.

He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”

“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?

Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.

“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.

Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying? 

You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?" 

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance. 

"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?" 

You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.

You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.

And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

[petew21-blog]

Friends for life

This Zack, my best childhood friend. When we were kids, we were basically inspereable. We spent so much time together. We slept over each tohers houses. Even better was the fact that our moms were best frinds. So not only they spend so much time together, but so did we. But that was 6 years ago. Everything changed when my dad died. Zack was there for me, but over time we grew apart. I had to help out my mum with my two sisters and she had to get another job to get enough money for us. Zack's mom on the other hand got divorced and found a new boyfriend. Who I heard didn't really get on well with Zack.

Me and Zack talked from time to time, but it was mainly superficial. Zack was now a very well respected guy in the school. He was always into sports. But now he was a swimmer, basketball and a football player as well. I don't know where he got all that time and energy. Even if we saw each other in the classroom we just smiled or waved at each other. Maybe even this very tiny friendship was the reason why no bullies dared to touch me. Not that Zack would every bully anyone, but if he knew that the other guys bullied someone, he always stood up for that person and ended it. And the bullies even apologized sometimes. That's how respected he was.

So yeah Zack's a jock and I am a classic nerd. Or maybe not classic. I don't really have much time to play games on the computer because of my job, but when I have some spare time I read comic books. So yeah, that makes me a nerd I suppose. And I do quite well at school too. Maybe not the PE, I kinda suck at that, but I get by.

Present time

Me and several other classmates were assigned to start decorating the halls for upcoming prom. Most of my classmates were really excited for that, but not me. I didn't have anyone to go with. Not anyone I wanted to atleast. Ok, I'll say it. I am gay, which complicates things a bit. And the person I would really like to go to prom with is Zack. But that will never happen. Zack is 100% striaght and it would totally ruin his reputation in the school.

But that doesn't stop me from obssessing about him. I saw him a few times in the locker rooms which gave me a pretty consistent image of how he changed over the years. He was pretty much the same Zack I grew up with, but I bet that his junk is much bigger than I remember. Truth be told, Zack was the first (and only) person who I had any sexual experience with. I know it sounds sus, but he only wanted to experiment jerking each other off as most boys do at their younger years. Back then I was really puzzled and didn't know what to do. Now I just wish I could go back to that moment once again.

I was one of the few remaining students. The rest headed to the shops to get their dresses and suits. I told them to leave and that I would finish it by myself, cause I wasn't planning on going anyway.

I entered the gym to get a ladder, to help me set up the last few letters over the door. And there he was, on the other side of the room. Zack was lifting some weights I didn't even know how to name. He noticed me battling with the ladder nd hurried up to help me. I mean... wouldn't you crush about him too?

Zack:"Hey, man. Nobody came to help you with this? It's pretty heavy."

Me:"Hey, no. They all left to get their suits and all. So it's just me now."

Zack:"Oh, that's sad. You need help with something?"

Me:"No, it's fine. It's just final touches. But thanks"

Zack:"All right, man. But if you need, don't hesitate to ask ok?"

He smiled and went back to finish his set.

I was basically drooling, As I was climbing the ladder and trying to reach the letters, I stumbled and grabbed onto a light. I must have been shocked or something cause then I found myself on the floor. But I wasn't on the ground, I was standing. And on the ground was my body, unconcious.

I looked at my hands and they were barely visible. I tried to reach my body but it wouldn't accept my soul. Fuck, am I dying? I tried to call out for Zack but he didn't hear me. I ran to him and saw him lifting his weights. I tried to reach for him, but before I did I felt a force pulling me towards him. And as I was pulled away I felt something being ejected out of his body.

I opened my eyes, looking in front of me. But Zack was gone now. I turned around but he wasn't anywhere. As I looked down, I noticed I was now wearing bright red shorts, and on top of that a very sweaty torso, which definitely wasn't mine. I reached out my hands. Fuck, is this really happening? I searched the pockets and found a phone. In its reflection I saw Zack's face. Oh my god. Did I really just possess Zack's body? And where is he?

The responsible flow of thoughts was now interrupted by the two huge sweaty biceps now in the way where I usually didn't mind them. I flexed and oh my god, the tightness, the strength. I felt amazing.

I knew it was bad, but I just had to give it a try. What if I might never have a chance to do this ever again, I stuck out my new tongue and licked my new shoulder all the way to my biceps. Which also allowed me now to inhale the scent of my sweaty armpit. "This is so amazing!"

I then proceeded to touch my new belly full off abs. "How the hell did he get these?"

"Lot of working out and calorie deficit" a voice called out from the other side of the room, where I was before. And there was my body. Standing.

"Zack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Would you mind telling me how this happened?"

I wanted to be completely honest, I swear, but I think that he doesn't need to know the part where my soul travelled to his body and was pulled by it.

"So, are we gonna try to reverse it the same way? Cause your body is really hurting from the fall and my body needs to be ready for a game tommorow. So I'm not really sure about that"

"I'm really sorry about that Zack. I mean, you're right that maybe it was my near deth experience that caused this, but I don't know if endangering our lives would allow to swap us back. What if the other one dies and the remaining one will have to keep on living the other ones life?"

"Yeah, you're onto something. Well, we're gonna have to figure out how to pass on as each other."

We spoke some more about how we were gonna live our lives without anyone thinking we have gone crazy.

"Ok, Zack. Just one question. How about... you know. Private stuff?"

"You mean my personal things at home or phone? Well that shouldn't be so bad I think. I don't have many secrets to tell or something, haha"

"No, I mean. Eventually we're gonna have to take a shower or go to a toilet."

"Oh, right. I haven't thought of that. Well, than my body is your body? I mean, I don't really like to think about somebody else using my body like that, but I know you're a good person and all, so I know you'll treat my body well. Maybe just... no sex? Could you do that for me please?"

"Zach, I haven't had sex yet even in my body. I mean, your body is attractive and all so, I know I could get a date in your body or smth, but that's not something I would do."

"Ok, thanks man. Just making sure. And also another thing. I..."

"What is i Zack?"

"Give me a second, it's kind off embarasing for me. I have to jerk off in the evening everyday. If I don't I sometimes have wet dreams the next morning"

"Dude, that's nothing to be ashamed of. That happens, Zack"

"Thanks. I know you mean well, but I just know my body. So I know you'll have to take care of that now or you'll have a very unpleasant morning including the washing of the clothes and bed linens."

I felt Zack dick in my new shorts getting hard just by hearing about this. Not only am I in the body of my crush, but he himself gave me permission to jerk off his dick. How crazy is that?

"Ok, Zack. If that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I said it in a way to make it sound like I wasn't thrilled to jerk off his dick

"And in exchange I'll get to jerk off your dick. Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"

OH FUCK NO I am not telling him "Well... not really. I think."

"Good, then let's get to it. In case you won't know what to do, just text me and I'll help you"

I was approaching Zack's house. The one where I basically grew up secondary to mine. I knew where all the rooms were. What stuff was placed where. But that was before the death of my dad and before the divorce. Who knows what's different

I entered the house anticipating horrible things. And then a strange man left the restroom. "Hey, dipshit. Back from school already? Jesus fuck. The kids these days. Why don't you get a job kid" he left for the kitchen to grab himself a cold beer and left for the living room.

Now I understand why Zack spent so much time at school doing sports. He didn't want to stay at home longer than necessary.

Anyway, up to Zack's room. His room was not filthy, it was kind of clean, but at the same time it was a but disorganized. Some of his used clothes were lying on the ground. I grabbed one of his boxers and grabbed it to my face. This is my smell now. The smell of my dick. I inhaled and held it to my nose.

As I felt my dick hardening, I didn't waste no time and started undressing myself. Zack's small mirror didn't do the trick for me so I left to the bathroom.

"Ok, modern shower. That's new. Gonna have to give it a go"

I took off all my remaining clothes. I left his necklace on and then just stared at my new reflection in the mirror. How amazing is this?

I touched his jawline, his already growing beard, scratching my hand. His lips, shivering underneath my touch. His beautiful nose. His eyes, that now contained my soul and not his looked a bit different, but same too. I took my right hand and place it on my neck while my left hand was already enjoying the hairtrail blow my stomach.

"Oh Zack, I think you'd be the type to shave. Might do that for you to fully embrace this massive beast" and with that I lowered my right hand that was before resting on my vibrating throat and now started jerking my new dick.

"Just doing what I had been told. Haha"

I jerked faster. I was slightly moaning but not loud enough to cause suspicion with Zack's step dad. I was observing the tense muscles just working hard to get me into the state of pure euphoria.

I was getting close. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I jerked so hard that the cum flew out of my dick right to the mirror in front of me. Is I stood there, smiling with my semi-hard dick in my hand I just saw the door swung open.

I quickly covered my dick and whole self with a towel, but even the partial view could give the viewer enough information. His step dad was furious

"What the hell you fucker?!? You're jerking off here while you could do some usefull job instead? I will have a very long talk with your mother when she gets here!"

What the hell just happened. Why is he so mad at Zack all the time. He's a student and a busy one at that. I don't know what this guy's problem is

I cleaned up the bathroom and got ready for the next time. Just the fact that I got the privilege to smell Zack's scent all the time and sleep in his bed. But having his body was a whole new level. I never even dreamed of this

The next day was horrible. I started the day with PE at school and let me tell you, that having a great body full of muscles is one thing. But having a weak will to actually do it is another. I was exhausted. I felt like I wouldn't be able to get up again after finishing

I saw Zack aproaching me in my body with a concerned look. I was beggining to worry what was on his mind

Zack:"Hey... umm how was your first night as me?"

Me:"Gotta say that the stepdad you got there is an another level of douchebag. I can't believe how you can live with that"

Zack:"Yeah, he is like that all the time. I don't know what mom sees in him. He's actually super nice to her, but seems to hate me just for breathing"

Me:"Yeah. I'll tell you later. There has been a bit of embarassing encounter"

Zack:"Actually I might ask you about something else first. Last night as I was in the bed I was trying to jerk off your dick, very nice by the way"

Me:"Jesus, don't make it more awkward than it is"

Zack:"Sorry. We'll I was trying to jerk off as I normally would, watching porn and stuff, but I couldn't. Then my mind wandered over to the guy on the video... I have to ask you and don't be afraid to answer. Are you gay?"

Me:"Yeah... I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. Well... since we're already saying everything to each other. I'll just admit it right now. I... I have a crush on you Zack"

Zack:"That was my another question. I have my head filled with thoughts. Very naughty thoughts including my body, so I am happy that you cleared this up and I am not just another self centered weirdo. But the question is. Would you let me suck my dick?"

Oh man

Another story from the inbox: Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

Hey guys. Sorry for the great break. I was finishing my exams (I passed them all, yay) and now I am in a different country on an externship trying to figure shit out. But I do have some free time during the day and I get to write a bit about my drafts and the stories in your inbox. And thanks to everyone who texted me all the supportive and kind words :) really appreciate it

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil.

I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.

First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.

So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…

Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)

Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.

Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.

(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)

I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.

But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.

I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.

I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.

It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.

I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.

My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”

But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.

In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.

Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”

As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.

I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…

The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.

So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.

People always say “it’s never too late.”

One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”

I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”

It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.

Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”

But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.

Whew.

So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.

And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.

Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.

Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)

[yazis]

✰ HEART STEALER

summary: whilst on your vacation in fontaine you accidentally end up in jail. luckily, a certain someone is going to make your trip down to the fortress worthwhile

pairing: wriothesley x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers sort of

word count: 6.2k

notes: not proofread, reader isn’t from fontaine and works in mondstadt (hints at reader working with albedo), reader is also a bit slow and wriothesley isn't any help, set after archon quest

after spending four days down at the fortress of meropide, you could confidently say it sucked.

the accommodations, the food, the people, the faint smell of oil and grease always lingering around, it was a major downgrade from the hotel you had been staying in previously.

you had originally come to fontaine for a vacation that your boss back in mondstadt insisted you needed. and now you were going to have to spend most of it in prison.

all you had done, was eat ketchup on its own. that’s all. nothing more, nothing less, it wasn't even that big of a deal. when you had finished your dinner at the hotel one day, there was some remaining ketchup left. you weren't going to let it go to waste so, naturally, you ate the ketchup on its own.

never would you have thought such a law to exist, and even so you never would have deemed it a heinous crime. and yet, during the trial at the opera epiclese the fontainians made you seem like a heartless villain.

sighing you sat down at the coupon cafeteria at an empty table placing your free meal down. it already reeked.

by the time my twenty-day sentence is over, i’ll only have three days of my vacation left... you thought.

in the fortress of meropide, the inmate that led you on your tour upon first arriving explained that you would have to work in the 'production zone' everyday and you only got one free welfare meal a day.

with that information you decided it'd be best to skip out on breakfast and dinner and have your meal at lunch. all your other time you spent working in the production zone under grainville's supervision. the work was at least easier than all the expeditions in dragonspine you'd have to go on with your boss.

that, essentially, was your routine for the four days you had spent here. you didn't want to get in trouble again for some stupid reason so you made sure to keep to the rules.

opening your welfare meal for the day, you were met with the same disgusting grey sludge that had greeted you yesterday and the day before. you immediately put the lid back on.

since you had step foot in the fortress, you hadn’t eaten a single thing and you honestly felt famished. it wasn’t your fault that everything was practically inedible.

you rested your chin on your hand, sighing yet again for the nth time today. you were considering just skipping lunch entirely, it wasn't like you were eating anything anyway.

when you first stepped foot in the fortress, you told yourself you should try and make the most out of your trip here, think of it as an experience, an extra vacation. but it was as if there was something you were missing.

most of the other inmates looked as if they were living the life down at the fortress of meropide. your isolated table was surrounded by others who were happily chatting away, with scrummier meals than you as well.

am i doing something wrong? how can anyone be genuinely happy here?

you thought, pushing away you’re own meal box in disgust and staring longingly at someone else’s meal that looked as if it belonged in hotel debord. the sight alone was enough to fill a fraction of the hunger inside you.

i guess this will just have to do...

“not a fan of the food, huh?” a voice suddenly spoke and you jumped slightly looking up to see a man sitting opposite you on your once lonely table.

one glance at the man and you already knew you did not want to deal with him. you had already ran into a couple of inmates, they either ignored you because they didn’t care or gave you a hard time just because.

this man, looked as if he was ready to do the latter.

well, i shouldn’t judge a book by it's cover…

he had messy black hair with grey streaks along with piercing blue eyes. with the way his arms were crossed you could see his muscles flex but also the various scars on them. he also had numerous scars around his neck and one just underneath his right eye.

you’d be lying if you said he was unattractive, you definitely would've noticed someone like him by now so you wondered why you hadn't seen him before.

“well, maybe i’d eat it if it at least looked edible.” you responded watching him in front of you, still taking in his whole appearance.

maybe... he's new here too? why else would he come talk to me?

at your response the man raised a brow, taking in your features. as his eyes scanned across your attire and up to your face, they eventually landed on your own as he stared right through you. his gaze pierced through you and you nearly shuddered from the intimidation.

you also noticed the looks and hushed whispers that other inmates were giving him once he had sat on your table. perhaps people had been giving him a hard time.

"um," you gulped "are you new here?" you asked. maybe he didn't have any friends like you, that would explain why he came and sat on your table all of a sudden.

he stared at you a while longer before giving you a lazy smile and leaning forward slightly. “yeah i am, are you?”, he asked.

"i mean i joined here four days ago so i guess... what's your name?" you asked smiling back, maybe he wasn't as scary as he looked.

he was silent for a bit as he looked down, it was as if he was contemplating whether he should tell you or not. you stared at him expectantly awaiting his answer.

"wriothesley." he said eventually.

"wriothesley." you repeated, "well, i'm (y/n). i may not know a lot about this place but if you need anything i can try my best to help." you smiled warmly at him.

he smiled back, well more it was more of a smirk, but either way there was a glint of something in his eye that you noticed but couldn't quite put your finger on.

—————

after your little chat with wriothesley at lunch, the two of you parted ways and you headed to the production zone to work until bed time.

when you headed to your room, you got ready for bed and tucked yourself in, closing your eyes so that you could allow sleep to engulf you.

except it never did, and you laid in your bed for hours waiting for the sleep to come.

after a while it eventually rolled to 1am, it was dead silent apart from the constant sound of cogs whirring giving the fortress a more of an eerie feel as you slipped out of your bed.

you trudged towards the lift and made your way to the bottom floor, planning on just sitting at the coupon cafeteria for a while basking in the silence. that's when you stumbled upon the place to find that someone was already there.

the same man from earlier sat in the dim light at the same table from earlier with a teacup to his lips peacefully drinking away, eyes closed. a matching teapot was upon the table and sweet smell of tea wafted throughout.

the rich and sweet aroma was nearly intoxicating, and for someone who hadn't eaten properly in the past few days you felt as if you were hypnotised.

at first you observed from a distance, comtemplating whether or not you should confront him. would he let you try some if you asked? you would have to remember his name first...

wriother... wriothesee... wriothesley? wriothesley! that was it!

"wriothesley?" you called out to the fellow inmate as he opened his eyes to meet yours. he help the cup away from his lips briefly and spoke up.

"oh, evening (y/n)." he acknowledged giving you a small nod, as you made your way to sit opposite him.

"why are you drinking tea out in the open? the guards are going to catch you." you asked while he merely shrugged and set his cup down.

"the guards end their watch night duty at twelve." he stated.

oh, i didnt know that.

"i could ask you the same though. what are you doing wandering around at one in the morning?" he asked, glancing at you.

"i just... couldn't sleep that's all." you said turning your head slightly.

you eyes trailed down to the cup that now rested on the table, noticing how the steam frrom the cup swirled and how the smell was even sweeter now that you were close. wriothesley saw all of this.

"...would you like a sip?" he eventually asked watching the way your eyes gazed on his teacup.

at his words you shot your head up to face him properly.

"really? can i?" your eyes practically lit up which he also took note off, he chuckled before pushing the teacup forward in your direction so that it was in front of you.

you grinned at him before taking the cup in your hands, not too bothered about the fact that you were using the same one as him.

you proceeded to take a sip and it tasted ten times better than the smell. the heat from the drink brought warmth inside of you and the flavours had a sense of familiarity.

the warm hot tea that your boss would usually give you in the little cave in the freezing depths of dragonspine was what first crossed your mind. and you were reminded of home.

you were done taking your sip and let out a happy sigh as you set the cup down.

unbeknownst to you, wriothesley had watched the way you drink the tea and couldn't help but be fascinated in the way your facial expression changed. your eyebrows slightly raised with your eyes slightly widened, the way your smile truly met up to your eyes.

a warm feeling came over him to see you enjoying the tea just as much - probably even more than he did.

"do you like it?" wriothesley asked and you nodded eagerly.

"yeah! it's really good, and tastes sort of familiar. anyway, thanks again, wriothesley." you said pushing the cup back towards him.

"no probl-" he cut himself off after looking down at the now empty tea cup that you had given back to him.

"you finished it..." he muttered quietly eyes widened slightly, when he had handed it to you there was still quite a lot left.

your eyes also widened at his expression as you sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck.

"sorry, i haven't eaten much since i got here so..." you said avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment, you hadn't meant to get carried away the tea just tasted that good.

his eyes shifted from the cup and looked at you, frowning ever so slightly, "you haven't eaten?"

"well apart from the few snacks i brought, my welfare meals have been so bad..." you explained still feeling a tad bit guilty.

"i see. the welfare meals are picked at random so you must've been unfortunate." he explained.

"oh really? so that's how it works..." you said trailing off in thought.

he knew about the when the guards' duty ended and the welfare meals yet i didn't, is this guy really new or am i just slow?

"um, how long have you been here wriothesley?" you asked cautiously and curiously.

"three days." he replied rather suddenly, filling his teacup with some more tea out of the teapot.

"oh, ok then." you said, "it's just you know a lot about this place, probably more than me!" you laughed slightly, he didn't respond and instead kept quiet.

silence fell over the two of you as he sipped his tea looking down at the table and you watched him contently with a small smile.

"you're much nicer than i thought, y'know." you said out of the blue.

"hm?" he said looking back up to face you, "what do you mean by that?"

"i guess it's just that when I first saw you i got the impression that you were the kinda inmate who scared everyone. kinda like a big bad wolf." you explained.

at your comment, he simply looked at you with a deadpan expression. seemingly unimpressed at your claims.

you laughed at his face as a yawn escaped your mouth the same time.

"perhaps you should go to sleep now." he suggested noticing your tiredness.

"maybe i should." you agreed getting up from your seat and stretching, you checked your watch and it was nearly 2.

you looked at wriothesley mildly perplexed, "aren't you going to sleep?"

he shook his head, "no, i still have some things i need to sort out."

what could he possible need to do at 2am?

you decided not to question his motives as yet another yawn escaped you.

"alright then, make sure you get some sleep at least. good night wriothesley." you waved, him giving you a curt nod back before making your way back to your room.

—————

you slept particularly well that night but woke up abruptly the next morning as dread filled your gut. you checked your watch as it read a time around ten in the morning.

i slept in! grainville's totally gonna kill me!

quickly you got out of bed and started to get ready until the same sweet smell from yesterday filled your nose bringing you to a halt.

turning you looked over to the table situated in the corner of your room as you caught sight of a familiar teacup and a grey welfare meal box.

you walked on over to the table, the tea was still warm and there was a small note on the top of the box.

'don't worry about sleeping in, i told grainville that you'd be having a lie in. enjoy breakfast. - wriothesley'

you smiled to yourself before setting the little note aside. you didn't even stop to question how he got grainville to obey his orders, the food inside the box smelled too good.

when you opened the grey meal box, you were met with two croissants and a stack of three pancakes topped with maple syrup and berries. your mouth practically started watering at the sight and you wasted no time and dug in.

—————

from then on, your welfare meals improved drastically and you knew it was wriothesley's doing (yet you still wondered how he had managed to). it had been two days since meeting with him that night and you hadn't seen him since.

you brought the teacup with you everyday since then hoping you'd be able to give it back and thank him but you were yet to see him again.

since food wasn't a problem anymore, you were able to work your shifts at the production zone, and you weren't sure if you were imagine things but grainville had been much nicer to you recently. while you worked, he'd tell you to take break any time you wanted.

on the way, you also happened to befriend the bombshell bros, cuistot and laverune.

"what's with the weird teacup (y/n)?"

"oh it's just uh, for a friend?" you said scratching your neck, looking around to find something else to talk about until your eyes landed upon something,

"oh yeah! what's that room?" you asked walking past the doors at the central part of the administrative area, you had passed it a few times but never knew what it was.

"oh that, that's the duke's office." laverune said.

there's a duke here?

"oh yeah," cuistot piped in, "he's basically in charge down here, a real big shot! the last thing you want is to cross paths with him."

subconsciously, you looked down to the teacup in your hand and pondered.

huh... the duke sounds like a big deal yet i haven't seen him before... i guess that's for my own good though

you and laverune dropped cuistot off at the cafeteria so he could work his shift in the kitchen and then headed off to the production zone.

laverune left after around thirty minutes, saying something about how he was hungry and tired yet you stayed, working tirelessly to process widgets. what the fortress needed all of these widgets for was still unknown to you.

while you were working away, you couldn't help but notice a melusine watching you from the corner of your eye.

she looked a tad bit different from the melusines you had seen up on the surface while on your various excursions in fontaine but still had the same cuteness at least. you wondered why a melusine would be down here of all places.

you didnt think much of her at first, not until she came up to you herself.

"hello! you're mx. (y/n), right?" she said waving at you with a wide smile.

you returned with another smile, albeit a bit surprised she had not only approached you but also knew of your name.

"oh, uh yeah that's me! do you need something?" you asked and she nodded.

"my name's sigewenne, i'm the head nurse down here. I’ve been watching you work and was wondering if you'd follow me? i'd like to give you a check up." she inquired, and how could you refuse to such a cute face?

so you ended your shift at the production zone and considering you had nothing else really to do instead, you followed sigwenne.

one thing led to another and now you were laying down in one of the beds of the infirmary.

“mx. (y/n), are you sure you're feeling well?” sigewinne asked as she looked over your state worriedly taking the thermometer from your mouth.

she had run a couple of tests on you, saying you had 'piqued her curiosity'. but now there seemed to be some sort of problem.

"uh yeah i am, why?" you said confused as she shook her head putting down the thermometer.

"you have a temperature of 40°C, im afraid you're going to have to stay here in the infirmary until it goes down."

"wha- but i feel fine!" you sat up all of a sudden as sigewenne ushered you back down.

"don't worry mx. (y/n), i have just the thing!" she said rushing out the room, you sighed sitting up again and resting your back against the head of the bed.

you had placed the teacup down on the floor beside the bed prior to sigewenne's check up, you bent down slightly and picked it up so you could place it in your lap. then you thought about your current predicament.

is it because i was in the production zone for too long?

it was just a habit of yours to work a lot, but you never thought it would end up in you getting a temperature. the thing was you didn't even feel hot. maybe it was because-

"(y/n)?"

your head whipped to the entrance of the infirmary as the familiar voice fell upon your ears.

"wriothesley! where did you go? it's been two days!" you said smiling upon his arrival.

he didn't necessarily answer your question you noticed, but he came over to your bed and pulled a chair out of a desk nearby to sit right by you.

"sigewenne informed me on your state, are you feeling alright?" he said asking you a question in return.

you blinked. sigewenne told him? wasn't she going to get something? why would she tell him of all people?

oh! maybe they're friends?

"oh yeah i'm okay, i honestly don't know what happened..." you laughed slightly looking off to the side.

"you overworked yourself." he sighed, "you don't have to spend all your time in the production zone."

"i know i know... it's just a habit of mine. i guess that's why my boss sent me here to fontaine, to take a break. it's a shame i have to spend some of it down in prison" you explained.

"i see." he said watching your expression and the way your eyebrows furrowed, "do you miss mondstadt?"

"just a bit." you nodded, "i mean i'm going back soon after my sentence but-"

wait a second, i don't remember telling him i came from mondstadt?

but before you could question the fact that he knew where you were from someone else came in.

"your gr- wriothesley, please could i ask you to leave. mx. (y/n) here needs to rest." sigewenne said with her hands on her hips and a pout on her lips.

wriothesley chuckled at her expression before getting out of his chair as you watched him rise, a small frown on your face.

"oh ok. well, thanks for the tea and breakfast a few days ago! it was really really good. here's your cup." you said holding it out for him.

still, i wonder how he managed to get ahold of such nice food down here...

he reached out to receive his cup and you felt his fingers brush against yours sending a jolt of electricity through your entire body causing you to visibly tense up.

"no problem. i'll come visit you again tomorrow." he said with the faintest smile on his face, his eyes not as piercing as they were upon first meeting him.

your breath hitched slightly and you felt your heartbeat start to quicken as you watched him leave the infirmary, eyes still lingering to where he once was. however your actions didn't go unnoticed by a certain melusine.

once he had left, sigwenne came up to you and checked your temperature once more.

"(y/n)! your temperature has gone up again!" she exclaimed bringing you out of your trance.

"o-oh! really? huh..." you said feeling slightly embarrassed, you yourself new the reason as to why that happened.

"here, drink this and your temperature should go down." she said holding out a cup innocently and you received it with a sheepish smile.

"thanks sigewenne." you said taking a massive sip, not expecting the drink to be so bitter with a side of... spiciness? you swallowed it (barely) but starting coughing soon after.

"w-what's in this??" you choked out.

"oh, nothing you need to worry about. everything in there has healing properties." she reassured.

"right... thanks sigewenne." you said handing her back the cup which she took from your hands.

you thought she'd leave you alone but she just stood there, not looking like she's be moving anytime soon. you contemplated whether or not you should ask if she was alright until she spoke up.

"what do you think of wriothesley?" she asked out of nowhere.

you said averting your eyes to the side, trying to get rid of what was in your head prior, "oh he's nice... i mean he's alright i guess?"

the melusine didn't respond after that, so you slowly brought your gaze back onto her only to be startled to see her staring at you with big wide eyes.

you gulped nervously as you gave her a wobbly smile, her stoic expression scaring you, "are you two friends? i mean you told him that i was sick so i figured you must have-"

"do you like him?" she said suddenly cutting you off.

this time it was your turn to widen your eyes as

"of course not! no- wait yes! wait- i mean in a friend way of course! haha... why do you ask?" you said, painfully wincing internally at your stuttering

she didn't say anything at first but simply stared, her eyes boring into you.

"it's ok mx. (y/n), your secret's safe with me!" she said happily as a sudden sense of worry surged through you.

"huh? what do you-"

"you should probably get some rest now, i'll come check on you again tomorrow morning. good night!" she said clasping her hands together and taking her leave.

you were left speechless once again.

—————

as promised, wriothesley came and visited you in the infirmary the next day. but after the events from the previous day you couldn't look at him in the same way.

you told yourself you didn't have a crush on wriothesley, that would be absurd. but for some reason sigewenne seemed convinced you did, as she sorted out her things in the corner of the infirmary she kept giving you glances.

which was terrible because it seemed as if the two of them were friends so if she told him about your 'feelings', you'd be screwed.

it's not like you had a chance with him to begin with, you weren't from fontaine and he probably was. and despite the fact that you two were sent to the fortress around the same time, you had no idea what sort of crime he committed.

now that you thought about it, he was kinda... mysterious.

he was sat beside your bed as you both drank tea in silence, you felt as if it was awkward and didn't know what to say as you looked everywhere but at him.

one time, you accidentally locked eyes with him and immediately looked away embarrassed.

there's no way i have a crush on wriothesley! besides, after my sentence is over i'll never see him again... not that it matters, i don't like him like that!-

"is something bothering you?" he quipped.

your heartbeat quickened again, much to your dismay. the way he had been looking out for you: getting you food, bringing you tea, checking in on you... it was too much for you to handle.

you hadn't even noticed, you were staring at him.

"no!" you said rather loudly coming out of your trance, you didn't even sound convincing to yourself, "nothing's bothering me, nothing's wrong..."

you quickly brought your teacup to your lips and looked down. nonetheless, he slowly nodded at your response as silence welcomed the two of you once more.

"oh yeah! did you know there was a duke down here?" you asked trying to start up some conversation to clear the silence, your talk with cuistot and laverune the day before coming back to you.

he was silent as he looked down to the liquid in his cup, watching the ripples hit the side and gently bounce back. he then nodded.

"oh, you did? i was only told about him yesterday." you said slightly surprised, you had been down here a day longer than wriothesley but he seemed to know way more than you did.

"what's he like? i've never seen him before." you asked as wriothesley looked up in thought but sigewenne came over to the two of you before he could say anything.

"the duke is very hard-working, he's always up to something hence why you probably haven't seen him yet." sigewenne said, a thermometer in her hands which she held out to you.

you received the thermometer and thanked her, "he kinda sounds like my boss. but at least my boss, as stoic as he is, can be nice and funny at times. apparently the duke is someone who should be avoided."

you put the thermometer in your mouth for a while before giving it back to her, she took note of the temperature and scribbled it down. all the while wriothesley frowned at your words.

"i'm sure the duke also has a good sense of humour." he said.

"maybe..." you shrugged.

"the duke also looks after the fortress very well, he's made lots of improvements over the past years to make this place as comfortable as it can be for the inmates here." sigewenne continued "oh! and he really likes drinking tea."

"ooh! i guess you two have that in common huh?" you pointed out looking at wriothesley.

wriothesley took another sip of his cup before speaking up, "i guess we do."

—————

“w-woah, (y/n)! you have loads of credit coupons!” cuistot stammered at the bunch of ‘credit coupons’ you carried.

sigewenne's drink was surprisingly helpful, (despite how weird it tasted) and you only had to stay in the infirmary for a two nights.

the day after, you and the bombshell bros were planning to go to the pankration ring (a place you never knew existed) to watch a match that according to laverune was going to be the ‘fight of the century’.

but before you made your way there you had told them that there was some trash you needed to clear out so they followed you to your room. when you walked out with the bag of credit coupons they’re jaws dropped.

“credit coupons..? i thought they were just pieces of paper. grainville at the production zone kept giving them to me for working.” you said stopping in your tracks and looking down at the coupons in your hand.

“you’re practically rich! with that many credit coupons you could do all sorts!" laverune exclaimed, the two noticed the confused expression still displayed on your face and decided to explain the whole coupon system.

"...so, this is the currency down here?" you asked in shock.

"basically, yeah!" cuistot said.

wow, i never knew...

once you were done putting away your coupons the three of you headed for the pankration ring. laverune suggested you bring some coupons so you could bet on which fighter you thought would win, so you did.

whilst you walked, you listened in on cuistot and laverune's conversation on who they thought would win.

"'le grappleur' is surely going to win! he is reigning champion for a reason." cuistot said and laverune shook his head.

"oh come on, 'demon horde' has it in the bag. the other day, he even beat 'killer hook'! that makes them tied!" laverune argued.

just what kinda names are these...

"who do you think's going to win (y/n)?" cuistot asked turning to you, you shrugged.

"i don't know... 'le grappleur' maybe?" you said taking a complete guess. laverune humphed disapprovingly.

"well, the duke's going to watch the match as well and i heard he's betting on 'demon horde'!" he said crossing his arms.

oh yeah, the duke, maybe i'll finally see what he looks like?

"but (y/n)'s especially close with his grace so they can just get him to change his mind, bam!" cuistot stated as you raised a brow.

"um, i am?" you asked.

cuistot laughed, "it's not often the duke sits to have a meal with anyone, or visit anyone in the infirmary. why didn't you tell us?" he said only arising more confusion inside you.

he did? but the only other person i've talked to is-

"i believe i heard my name?" a familiar voice spoke up from behind you three causing you all to turn around.

just as you thought, it was wriothesley, you smiled at him feeling your heart beat quicken. you were about to say something until cuistot and laverune beat you to it.

"y-your grace!" they both exclaimed simultaneously bowing slightly as you still stood upright, eyes darting between wriothesley and the pair.

"huh? who... 'your grace'? what?" you were confused until it finally clicked, your eyes widening, "wait, you mean... you're the duke?"

wriothesley smirked at you and folded his arms, "took you long enough."

your mouth was slightly agape as you simply stared at him utterly dumbfounded stumbling to find the right words, "w-what? since when?!"

"oh i dont know, a couple of years ago?" he shrugged nonchalantly.

cuistot and laverune noticed you two were conversing and used it was a chance to slip away off to the pankration ring, leaving you with 'his grace'.

everything suddenly made sense. why he was able to get grainville to listen to him, all the food he was able to deliver you.

"why... why didn't you tell me? and here i thought you were an inmate like me this whole time..." you said bringing your palm to your forehead feeling like an idiot.

"i'll be honest i found it quite entertaining that you didn't know who i was." he said causing you to roll your eyes, he took a step closer so that he was gazing down at you.

"how are you feeling by the way?" he asked, his tone becoming a bit softer making your heart beat even faster.

you sighed, still not having fully accepted the fact that you had been hanging around the duke the entire time, "i'm fine, sigewinne said i should just take it easy from now on."

he hummed smiling slightly, "that's good."

a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you merely looked at each other. you admired his features not noticing that he was doing the same until he cleared his throat and looked off to the side.

"your friends seemed to have already left so, would you like to head to the pankration ring together?" he suggested and you beamed at him.

"sure!"

—————

after figuring out who wriothesley really was, you decided it would be best if you discarded your feelings for him. your chances with him had gone from about five percent to absolute zero.

you only had three days of your sentence left anyway, but you weren't looking forward to going back. after all, you ended up liking the fortress of meropide life much more than you had expected.

at the moment, you and wriothesley were having your daily tea break in his office. him sat at his desk going through some papers as you sat on the other side of the desk, reading one of the many books from his shelf.

"you know, i could always shorten your sentence. you could go back today if you wanted." he suggested breaking the silence.

"yes but," you started averting your eyes "i still want to spend a bit more time with cuistot and laverune that's all."

and you too obviously you thought but would never dare to say aloud.

wriothesley hummed in response, "ah yes, you're little friend group." he paused for a bit, "are you sure that's the only reason?"

"uh, i'll miss sigewenne too, she's really sweet." you said, subconsciously taking your eyes off your book and instead watching him. it was a terrible habit of yours lately.

"i see." he said rather plainly, "speaking of sigewenne, we both had a chat earlier today and she told me some, interesting things."

you froze at this and immediately shot ur eyes back down to your book, wriothesley this time noticing as he moved his work to one side watched your expression closely with a smirk.

what? there's no way sigewenne would've told him... right? i never admitted it aloud!

"that's nice, what kind of things?" you said still looking down, eyes scanning over the pages 10x quicker than before (the words weren't even going through your head).

"not much, but she did tell me about you." he said as you felt your heart sink.

"o-oh really? by the way this book is really interesting." you said losing where you were as you flipped ahead a couple of pages, a desperate attempt to change the subject.

he watched your reaction contently, leaning back in his chair with his arms folded, he then shrugged.

"maybe it is, i haven't read it yet." he said, "anyway sigewenne told me that-"

you pulled your own chair back and got up, with the book in hand you rushed to the side to go put it back on the shelf. there was no way you were going to let him finish his sentence and humiliate you.

"i just remembered! i need to go find cuistot to try the new recipe he made!" you said getting up from our chair and going over to the bookshelf. you went on your tip toes to place the book back before turning on your heel, ready to dash towards the door.

however when you turned you were met with wriothesley's figure standing in front of you with a lazy smile, blocking you form going any further.

"sigwenne said that you liked me." he leaned down so he was face to face with you, your lips merely inches away from his and a teasing glint in his eyes, "is that true?"

your eyes widened in shock and horror, your pupils darting around everywhere frantically, "uh- i um, i-"

that alone was enough to provide him an answer asall your muffled words came to a halt when he brought his right hand and held your chin up, connecting his lips with yours.

at first you didn't kiss back, you couldn't kiss back, utterly paralysed from the shock. his smooth lips against your own causing your mind to blank out.

does he... like me back??

you couldn't help it, you were a hopeless fool. you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and kissed back, feeling a smile emerge from his lips, you felt as if you were dreaming.

his hand on your chin found its way to your cheek as the other wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you even closer to his body deepening the kiss in the process.

eventually after what felt like years, you both pulled away breathlessly. an irresistible smile creeping up both your faces.

"i think i'm going to have to lengthen your sentence." he said, his hand resting on the side of your face as his thumb caressed your cheek.

"really? what for?" you asked playing along leaning into his touch.

he leaned in once more, planting a small kiss on your lips before pulling back and flashing you a grin.

"for stealing my heart."

all rights reserved © @yazis please do not copy any of my works

[btsugarush]

GANGSTA | myg - 004

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni.

word count: 3.5K

authors note: yes, it is here. it only took me 76 years lmao. y’all best give me all the love since y’all wanted to be on my ass about this mf. anyway, enjoy the drama. also this was prewritren with the tags a long time ago so if you no longer wanted to be tagged or if you’re new and wanted to be tagged i’m sorry. the taglist got full but i try to switch out who i tag every chapter.

“Now, are you sure you’re okay? I can personally file a report for you.” Mr. Kim asked for the 6th time. You roll your eyes, fed up with the badgering. You didn’t understand why he cared so much anyway. He was the one that refused to listen to you when you tried to explain why it wouldn’t be a great idea for you to deliver in Gongdan.

You didn’t go into detail about the assault, or even bother to mention Yoongi being the reason it didn’t escalate. You simply just stated to him that you were attacked and managed to slip free.

Luckily for you though, the old man’s guilt for the attack led him to giving you the rest of the day off and you snatched that offer up immediately. Not like he needed your assistance, seeing as the restaurant was practically dead with only about 4 customers. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim. I promise.” You assure him one last time. “Alright then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” You exit the shop, the door dinging as you do. You spot Mina’s car sitting in front of the restaurant, and she smiles cheerfully as you climb inside. “Hey. Thanks for picking me up so early.” You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “No problem… But why am I picking you up so early? And…” she leans forward, peaking at your ripped shirt. “Why is your shirt ripped?”

You scratch your head, the thought of explaining the situation to Mina made your brain itch. “I had to deliver at the Devil’s playground again, and got attacked.” You kept it short and sweet. Mina’s eyes widened in shock. “What?! Was it that Yoongi guy again?!”

You shake your head. “It wasn’t him, it was this group of guys. Yoongi was actually the one that saved me…” you twiddle with your fingers as your mind wanders about the raven. Mina arches a brow at the gentleness in your voice. “He saved you?” You nod slowly in response. “My god, what does he expect from you now? Sexual favors?”

Of course Mina has to be the most dramatic and think the worst possible thought of everything. “No, he didn’t ask me for any favors. Which I guess is surprising for someone with his track record.” You admit, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Mina starts up the car, finally moving from the restaurant premises. “Please don’t tell me you’re buddy buddy with that thug now?”

You scoff, letting your eyes roll back. “Of course not! The guy is a criminal, and stalker. I’d never befriend him,” You argue, crossing your arms. Yoongi may have saved you, but you weren’t swayed by his heroic charm. “Anyway, enough about me and my shitty day, it’s too traumatic to talk about. Did you have a talk with Jin like I suggested?” You change the subject. Mina’s face drops at the mention of her boyfriend’s name. “Yeah, we talked for about 2 minutes before it all blew up. Now we’re not on speaking terms,” She sighs. “I think maybe I should break up with him…”

You frown. ‘There she goes being the most dramatic again…’

“Mina, don’t be so damn hasty all the time.” You try to reason with the blonde. “I’m not!” She defended herself. “I’m just tired, y/n. I’m tired of trying to figure him out. I’d rather break up with him before he breaks up with me.”

Mina had never been the girl to get her heart broken. In high school she was the one always doing the heart breaking, so you could tell that it genuinely killed her to love someone as much as she loved Jin, and not know where his head was at regarding their relationship. “I don’t know, Mina… I just know if I was in your shoes with Kookie, I’d try to work things out before I think of the worst possible outcome.”

Mina pouts, but she doesn’t continue to speak. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, you were right. She shouldn’t just jump the gun and break up with Jin. Although he was acting strangely and it was confusing the hell out of her. “You know… I’m jealous of your relationship with Kookie.” She suddenly blurts, causing you to turn to her with a raised brow. “Huh?”

“I’m jealous,” she repeats. “Of you and Jungkook.”

You tilt your head to the side, your eyebrows now scrunched in curiosity. “Why?”

Mina simply shrugs, sitting quietly for a couple of minutes before answering. “You two match, and have an unbeatable connection. You started off as best friends, which played in your favor. I met Jin in the hospital because he had a broken arm. We don’t have the history you and Jungkook have.”

You smile at the compliment towards your relationship, but quickly shake your head. “History isn’t everything. Some people marry their high school sweethearts and breakup. You and Seokjin just need to be mature– or you at least.” Mina whips her head in your direction, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean by ‘or you at least’?”

“I mean that sometimes you’re immature. You tend to freak out when things don’t go your way and storm off like a child.” Mina snarls. “I’m not immature.” She muttered to herself, practically proving your point. The car finally slows down in front of your apartment before coming to a complete stop. “Thanks for the ride again, Mina. I appreciate you.”

“Of course. I’m mature enough to pick up my best friend when she needs me.” She glares, your previous comment still not sitting well with her. You shake your head, paying no mind to her attitude. “Bye, Mina. I hope everything works out with Jin.” You pushed open the car door, climbing out.

“Yeah, you and me both.” She mutters her last words before she waits for you to close the car door, speeding off into the distance with you standing there to watch. You let out a sigh, shrugging. What was the point of her asking for your advice if she was always going to dislike what you had to say?

You turn on your heels, walking up the steps that lead to your building entrance. As you venture down the hall to your apartment, you spot a shaggy haired man placing a bouquet of flowers right in front of your front door. A smile forms your face as you see the one person you longed to see after such a horrendous experience. “Kookie?”

The brunette jumps slightly, your sudden appearance catching him off guard. Once he registers that it’s you, he smiles as well. “Well shit, I wanted to surprise you with something sweet when you got off. Guess that’s a fail.” He scratches the back of his neck, chuckling. You shake your head, instantly embracing him with a hug. “It’s not a fail. I’m so happy to see you.” Even though you pretty much talked on the phone with Jungkook everyday, it felt like you hadn’t seen him in weeks.

Jungkook’s tattooed arms wrap around your waist, returning your gentle embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, angel. What’re you doing home so early though? I thought you weren’t off till 8:00?”

You bit down on your bottom lip. You wanted to start crying right there just thinking about what almost happened to you today. You hadn’t told him about your trip to Gongdan yesterday because you didn’t want him to worry, but now you felt as though he deserved to know this time. “I got attacked today.” You take a step back, showing him your torn shirt. Jungkook looks down, dumbfounded at how he hadn’t clocked your ripped shirt when you first walked in.

“By who?!” He shouts. “If it was Yoongi and his gang I swear to god–”

You shush Jungkook, looking around to make sure none of your neighbors were in the hallway eavesdropping. “Let’s talk about this inside, okay?” The brunette is pissed, but he nods, awaiting for you to open your apartment door. He grabs the flowers from the floor as you dig through your purse for your key. ‘I really need to get a keychain for this thing," you thought, finally finding the piece of metal in your bag.

You open the door, and Jungkook wastes no time storming in. He places the flowers on your kitchen table, pulling out a chair for you to sit and explain yourself. Even though he was angry he still focused on your wellbeing. You close the door, unsure if you really wanted to recite the situation. Too late to change your mind now though.

You shuffle to the seat that Jungkook pulled out for you, plopping down. “So? Was it Yoongi’s doing?”

How do you even begin to explain all of this? Yes, but not really? While Yoongi was the reason you ended up in Gongdan, he isn’t the one that attacked you. But he has taken a weird interest in you ever since the Makoto showdown between you and his trusty stooge. If you told Jungkook that though, he'd just spend every moment trying to protect you and probably do something unnecessary to get himself hurt. You didn’t want that.

So, maybe it was best to embellish the truth a bit and leave Yoongi out of it.

“I had a delivery in Gongdan today. Jimin was out sick, and I was the only one that could deliver it. A group of guys attacked me on my way back to the restaurant.” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “You had a delivery at the devil’s playground and you took it? What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I had to do my job. I had no choice, Kookie. Mr. Kim wasn’t letting me out of it. Believe me, I tried.” The brunette scoffed, redirecting his anger to Mr. Kim. “I should go down there and kick that old man’s ass,” He muttered. Jungkook was never too fond of Mr. Kim. He thought the old man could be a bit misogynistic.

“Did they hurt you?” His voice is now more tender. You shook your head. “No. I’m fine,” You assure him. “The only thing that got hurt is my precious shirt.” You laugh a bit, trying to lighten the mood. “Did they just let you go? How’d you get free?” He pressed on.

“Umm…” you trail off, your thoughts once again wandering to the raven haired man.

“So Wonder Woman, you ready to accept that ride today?”

“They got scared off by someone that happened to be walking by. Lucky me, huh?”

Jungkook sighs smoothly, crouching down in front of your chair. He takes your hands in his, interlocking your fingers. “I’m glad you’re okay, y/n. I hate to know you experienced that and I wasn’t there.” He frowns, leering down at your hands. “Jungkook, you’re not gonna be able to be there for everything, and that’s okay. You’re here now, when I need you the most.”

Jungkook looks up at you. “And I’ll stay here.”

“Please remind me to stop letting you pick out movies. You always pick the cheesiest ones.” Jungkook grimaced as you two reached the end of your movie. You wiped stray tears from your eyes, glaring over at your soon-to-be boyfriend. “The Princess Diaries is a classic. I love it.” Jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, well next time I’m picking the movie. Your selection sucks.”

You gasp, taking a pillow from the other end of the couch. “Take that back.” You cock the pillow, ready to deliver a blow. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry… that you’re ass at picking movies.” You swing the pillow down on him, and his hands go up in self defense as he laughs, his back landing on the couch cushions to better protect his face. You take this advantage to straddle the brunette’s waist, continuing your attack until he ultimately surrenders. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You finally toss the pillow back down to the end of the couch, a victory smirk plastered on your face. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“Hard not to when I’m being attacked by a pillow.” He looks up at you, still straddling his waist. Jungkook’s hands slowly roam up your legs, stopping to grip your hips. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Your cheeks heated up with the compliment, and you felt a sudden wave of warmth between your legs that made you anxious. This was it. There was no better time than this to lose your virginity to Jungkook.

You lean forward, pressing your lips to his pierced ones, the metal was cold against you; Jungkook didn’t hold back, or hesitate the moment your lips were against his. Your mouths moved in sync, but sloppily at the same time as though you both wanted it real bad– and you did. Jungkook’s hands moved from your hips, reaching back to cup your ass in his hands, giving your cheeks a squeeze.

You moaned softly into his mouth, rolling your hips over the rough fabric of his jeans until you felt his cock harden underneath you. Jungkook made sure to assist you, his hands pressing you down harder against his confined length. Your panties were soaked, and your mind was in a daze. You were sure that you had dampened his jeans by now. “Fuck, Y/n…” he muttered in between kisses. “We have to stop before I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t stop, I want this.” You whine, rolling your hips faster. Jungkook moans, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, I can’t.” He grabs your hips, forcing you to stop. You take the hint, but you can’t help the pang in your chest. Was there something wrong with you? You didn’t get it. What was he waiting for? You climb off of him, taking your place back on the couch.

It’s silent as Jungkook sits up on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. “Y/n…”

“Save it,” You cut him short. “You don’t want to have sex with me, I get it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “That’s not true. I do.” He argued. You scoff, rolling your eyes. “So then what’s the problem? I’m always practically giving signals that I’m ready and you’re holding back. You have never done that with any girl you’ve dated before me.”

“You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.”

“Right, I’m y/n, the girl that’s been your best friend for years and the truth is that’s probably all you see me as.” Jungkook says nothing, he doesn’t even bother to argue because that’s just something he hates doing with you. “I uh… I should go.”

“Then go.” You snapped. Jungkook nods, standing up from the couch. As he walks to the front door, he looks back at you. You don’t look his way, you just continue to stare forward. “You’re not any girl I’ve dated before you.” He repeats; those are his final words before he opens the door and leaves.

Your eyes brim with tears as you finally turn, looking towards the table where Jungkook’s bouquet of flowers sat.

“Well well well, look who made a full recovery today.” You eye Jimin taking orders as you walk into Makoto. Jimin smiles at you, happy to see you in what felt like forever since you two worked together. “Y/n, it’s good to see you too.” He greets. You cross your arms, not in a greeting mood. “I have a bone to pick with you once you’re done here.” You say, walking back to the kitchen to clock in.

“Y/n, good afternoon. How are you feeling today?” Mr. Kim asks you as you grab an apron from the hook, tying the black fabric around your waist. “It’s a Monday, how am I supposed to be feeling?” You speak dreadfully. You barely got any sleep after what happened last night with Jungkook, and now you were at work. Jungkook hadn’t even called or texted you. Not that you wanted him to right now.

“Well, I meant everything that happened yesterday, how are you feeling today?” He reiterates. You grab a time card, swiping it through the clock. “I’m fine, Mr. Kim.” You walk past him, taking a notepad and pen from the cup holder. Jimin walks back into the kitchen, his face suddenly pale like he was ready to puke. Maybe he was sick.

“Hey, um, there’s someone out there at table three that’s requesting for you to take their order.” He says, scratching the back of his neck. You raise a skeptical brow. ‘Requesting me? Could it be Jungkook?’ You thought. Maybe he wanted to talk in person instead of over the phone. You didn’t see why he couldn’t have waited until your shift was over and come to your apartment, but you didn’t argue with the gesture.

“Okay…?” You walk out of the kitchen towards the dining area. As you scope out table three, you don’t see Jungkook, but in fact, Yoongi, Joon, and two other guys you don’t know. That’s why Jimin looked so sickly. You shake your head, sauntering over to their table. “What’re you doing here? Was yesterday not enough?” You snap at Yoongi.

“Nice to see you too,” the raven laughs, leaning back in his chair. “Yesterday is the reason I’m here in person, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you getting your pretty self into any more trouble in my hood.” He smirked. “You remember my boy Joon, don’t you?”

“Wonder Woman, it’s good to see you again.” You glare at Joon, rolling your eyes. You didn’t have time for this. Yoongi was the last person you cared to see right now, and you definitely never wanted to see Nam-joon again. “So are you here to order something or are you here to be the bane of my existence?”

“Depends… are you on the menu?” He bites his bottom lip, looking you up and down. Joon, and Yoongi’s other two minions snicker and you’ve decided you’ve had enough of this pig fest. “Okay, goodbye.” You turn to head back to the kitchen, but Yoongi stops you by grabbing your wrist. “I’m just joking around, sweetheart. I’m here to ask you something.” You pull your wrist from his grip, turning back to face him. “Ask me what?”

“Well, I’m having this kickback at my place tonight. I want you to slide through.” You scrunch your eyebrows together in confusion. “What on earth would make you think I’d dare to step foot into Gongdan again? And what makes you think I’d go to your shifty ass warehouse?”

“Well, I just thought after my heroism the other day you would want to thank me more properly.” You scoffed. Mina was right. He was expecting some kind of sexual favor from you. “I knew it. You only helped because you thought you could use me later on. I should’ve expected that from someone like you.” You leave their table, making your way back towards the kitchen, but this time Yoongi stands up from his seat to follow you.

“Princess,” He stops you again, his hand grazing your waist, but he doesn’t fully touch you in a manner that came across as though he was trying to respect your boundaries–for once. He steps in front of you, blocking your way to the kitchen. “It’s not like that. I helped you because I wanted to.”

“Is that so? Because it truly didn’t seem like it just a second ago.” You snarled, crossing your arms. The raven makes a “tsk” sound before continuing on. “Sweetheart, if that’s all I wanted from you then I would’ve made you give it to me right there in the alleyway. Regardless of what happened,” His face was stone cold serious. He meant that. You stood silent, not knowing what to say next.

“Listen… sometimes I have these kickbacks, and they’re a vibe, but it would be better if I saw your pretty face there.” His voice is soft, so soft that you didn’t think someone like Yoongi could produce such a tone. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to take a bus through Gongdan at night.”

“So don’t. I’ll pick you up.”

You sigh, slowly feeling yourself ready to cave in and you didn’t know why. You literally could not stand this man. He was a stalker for fuck sakes. A criminal. And yet… here you were ready to accept his invitation because of one good gesture, and a sudden softness to his voice. Yoongi’s eyes search for yours until they lock, a smile forming his face. For a moment as you're looking into the raven’s eyes you begin to question is he really the monster he makes people believe? Or is that all for looks?

“Hey, can we get the check please?” A customer calls out. Your eyes snap away from Yoongi’s. You had almost forgotten you were at work. “Look, I have to get back to work. I’ll… I’ll let you know.” You take your notepad, writing down your phone number. As you rip the paper from the pad, you actually begin to question your sanity. You hand the paper to Yoongi, his lips tilting in a sly smirk as he takes it.

“I look forward to hearing from you, princess.”

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