#but yeah that turned out to be 'struggling to believe' trauma to a t

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

i was looking up a band's discography because i thought for sure i used to have exactly one of their songs in my phone (couldn't find any that rang a bell tho :/) and I got my heart broken a little bit by how their albums showed a very painful downward spiral of faith across the last two decades

[redcherrykook]

── ˙✧°📷 TORN PICTURES AND FROZEN LENSES 5

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College Photography Teacher!Jungkook x Student!Reader

27 year old, stupidly handsome asshole teacher Mr. Jeon has absolutely no human decency, he believes your victim complex is what keeps you from ever achieving anything, letting people use you as a bridge. When something unexpected happens, the ice starts to melt as a foreign word called "empathy" enters his egocentric lense. Maybe he will finally manage to teach you a lesson now, since you keep failing his class.

(Mini series)- Episode five!

Song recommendation: white Mustang- Lana del rey

Content: Cold, mean, distant, unprofessional Jungkook, hurt, stubborn reader, enemies to lovers, lowkey dramatic, accident happens, mutually beneficial relationship (emotionally), Jk learns a lot from her, Jk is mean but has a soft spot for reader (eventually), 6 year age gap, Reader is from a struggling background, Jk kind of rescues her, happy ending, angst at first, fluff, smut, comedy/crack, bickering, college setting, brief hospital setting

Warnings: swearing, name-calling,mentions of an accident involving a biker, mentions of hospital, mentions of injuries, really mean Jungkook, i promise he gets sweet, mentions of trauma and abuse (non detailed), mental health struggles (semi detailed), arguments

Sexual content: (light) praise kink, (light) size kink (lmao next episode bout to go crazy with that one), oral; fem. receiving, chest play, making out

Taglist: @bts-iris @kaeysv @khadeeeeej @rockstryoon

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Another day, another night spent on the couch of Jungkook, watching some sort of show with him, munching on dinner he cooked.

He got used to cooking for two.

Its been a week,

A week that turned into a week and a half.

Still no calls, no places, no friends to crash at.

Not even Taehyung, his fraternity house is much worse than just staying with Jungkook.

Not like it bothered you, Jungkook is comfortable, he has a cozy apartment with enough space for two people.

Growing borderline nice from day to day.

His little gestures like buying two of the icetea he drinks, like changing the sheets if you had class the days he hadn't, cooking jjajangmyeon without onions because you hate them.

It was easy to get used to his routine, to bicker with him daily, to sit next to him when he works on his lesson preperation, while you study for your classes.

Sleeping in his shirt, doing your laundry in his bathroom, and accidentally stumbling across his calvin klein's.

It felt intimate at times, like living together was more than just that.

Tonight is different.

Tonight would be your very first party.

After a whole week of persuasion, Taehyung talking your ear off about how fun it was, how many people you could meet, how you could dance your heart away.

You decided, fuck it. One party.

"To be clear, I'm NOT drinking and i swear if you touch me, Taehyung, I will actually strangle you" loud and clear, your boundaries set while you're on call with him. Taehyung called you at 10pm as you were peacefully watching "Running man" with Jungkook, at first you shut off the call.

Until another followed by another call coming through.

"Just come on! once! One single time" he begged, Jungkook's jaw clenching at the voice from the other end of the phone.

He simply can not stand Taehyung, the way he devours you with his eyes, the way he talked you into doing things you don´t normally want to do,

like parties.

In desperate need of social contacts and having some serious fun, a party doesn't sound too bad anymore, Tae would keep his hands off, now that you told him to.

"You're seriously going?" Jungkook asks once you end the call, his eyes stern and burning through you, judging you almost.

"Yeah. You can enjoy a night to yourself again, I won't get back late, I promise" you smile at him, already thinking of what to wear from your very limited selection of clothes.

He scoffs, pressing his lips together.

"What? Got something against it?" your head tilts, a playful smirk on your lips.

His eyes move away from yours and back to the flashy TV screen.

"Just not looking forward to having to pick you up wasted, possibly having to push off some jerk to even get to you" his tongue presses the inside of his cheek, not making eye contact with you. A strong hand is rubbing his thighs that are spread on his couch, while the other one moves through his hair, lifting his arm enough to see his well defined triceps.

A part of you hopes that he was jealous, that he hated the thought of you making out with some college jerk, just like you hated the thought of making out with anyone that wasn't him.

There was nothing left to confront, nothing to deny.

You have a crush on Jungkook, on your photography teacher that you live with.

Maybe it was the intimacy of living with him, but the racing heartbeat in your chest, the pertruding smile on your face whenever he smiled too, even if slight, even if to make fun of you,

The throbbing between your thighs when he speaks in his sultry, low voice. The way his hair is messy most of the time, how his muscles flex when he's working, his groans of frustration, making you wonder just how he could sound if he groaned more. Your thoughts when he drives with his skillful fingers, the way he licks his lip piercing when he's focused. Having to surpress the thoughts of what happened, almost happened, when you were both drunken by the burning alcohol.

All of it is impossible to ignore, to talk yourself into believing it´s nothing.

Every inch of him, of his habits, it made you flaunt for him. Wishing that instead of his shirt, it was him, sleeping next to you peacefully.

Looking at him ever so often, hoping to catch him looking back.

Even taking longer in the shower when your wandering thoughts get accompanied by your wandering hands.

It is wrong, it is so wrong because he's your teacher, because the goodness behind his hard exterior helped you through your own mess in life.

And yet, you find yourself going out to party away the thought of him, only to return back to him the same night.

"Don't worry kook, I'm not drinking. You won't have to pick me up, just enjoy your night alone" you make your way into the guest bedroom to change.

"Am not worried, you're old enough" he grumbles as you walk away.

Of course, he wasn't worried.

Until he's stuck in his living room, pacing around.

He glances at the clock, 2:15 am, still no text, still no doorbell.

Originally, Jungkook wasn't going to do anything special, just watch Tv and cook something nice for a midnight snack.

You had left the house at half past ten, in a pair of black low waisted cargos and a tight fitting crop tee. Black as well, matching your shoes too.

Simple, comfortable, not too revealing.

Not that he would have cared if someone saw you in a revealing outfit,

That's what he likes to believe. In reality, he would have probably come with you if you did, glaring at every guy who dared to look.

The thought of you not answering his text because of being drunk somewhere or being in bed with a guy you had just met made him sick.

"I'm not letting you walk back at this hour. Call me when you need me to pick you up. And don't start arguing over this"

Sent at 11:39, over two hours ago.

Left on delivered.

He sits back down, sighing and deciding to call over his best friend, turn this into a boys night.

You are out partying, probably having fun with other people, why shouldn´t he?

Dialing the familiar number, it rings briefly before a voice deep answers the phone.

"JK! what's up bro?" Mingyu greets

"I'm good. My student left so i thought i'd ask you to come over? Haven't hung out in a while" Jungkook humms while checking the pantry for any snacks.

"Your little girlfriend left? Miss her so much you gotta make your best friend keep you company?" Mingyu laughs loudly from the other side of the phone.

Naturally, being Jungkook's best friend, he knew about the night that you almost kissed. Ever since then, he's been teasing him about it. Pissing him off by insisting on calling you his "little girlfriend".

"Fuck off gyu, could´ve just said no asshole" he scoffs, ready to hang up the phone.

"Don't get so butthurt Jk, she's getting you soft already. I'll be there in 20. Wanna go to a bar?"

He ignores the other comment,

"Nah, I'll go pick her up later. Stop by to get some snacks" he replies casually.

"Alright. Where did she go by the way?" Mingyu just noticed that Jungkook hasn't mentioned why you weren't at his apartment tonight.

His scoff was enough response that could be heard on the other end of the call,

"A fucking frat party"

Mingyu chuckles, thinking up a cheeky reply, but he was too slow.

Jungkook hangs up the phone, waiting patiently for a ring on his doorbell, not sure if he was still waiting for you or Mingyu.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"You'e insane Tae" you shout through the blaring music, barely able to hear the sound of your own words against people screaming and a bass stronger than any drug that was being done around you.

There were many of those, openly at that.

"Is that good?" He shouts back, grinning.

The party is as expected of a frat house party, about sixty college students running around the large apartment, a pool, many couches filled with girls and all of that jock stuff.

Bottles flying around in the kitchen which you found yourself standing in right now, all types of alcohol and cocktail mixes in bowls, what ever is them no one really knows.

Clothes seem basically optional here, most guys are running around shirtless, most girls running to the pool that´s a few feet from the huge glass sliding door around the corner, wearing either underwear or nothing at all.

Taehyung thankfully being clothed.

He did, as usual, have a stupid thought. Thinking it was a great idea trying to outdrink his friend that you had just met,

And already hate.

Jackson, a tall football player who's shoulders are as huge as his ego. He, like the rest of the guys, is shirtless, covered in hickies that wrap all the way around his neck.

Apart from the fact that he's made out with four different girls that all called him some variation of the word 'baby',

he has also been eye fucking you since you first saw him

To which Taehyung is oblivious to, or has been ignoring.

Still, he promised you not to leave your side throughout the entire night, as well as making sure you don't drink, like you had said you wouldn't.

"What? Think I can't win?" He says again when noticing you silently judging him.

You roll your eyes, hands throwing upward to express just how ridiculous he's being "Not about winning, it's a stupid idea. I'm not gonna pick your ass up the floor"

Taehyung laughs in return, throwing back his first shot, to which Jackson follows

"You won't have to"

Jackson smirks, "nine more to go Tae"

"Easy buddy, gonna kick your ass" his voice sounding cocky, already on his way to pour the next shot of vodka.

"Sure you don't want a shot miss goody two shoes?" Jacksons eyes wander to your cleavage,

Eyes are up here, you think.

"Sounding like a broken record at this point. No drinks" you scoff at him, grossed out by his shameless behavior.

In order to distract yourself from the situation, your eyes wander around the apartment, looking for anything interesting.

People making out left and right, no matter if "Va Va Voom" or "Fe!n" played, no one cared who was looking, what lyric was blaring.

It made you cringe inside when you spotted a guy grinding against a girl you knew from Piano lessons, right next to two guys taking molly.

Never going to a frat party again, you think.

Upon first arrival, it was really fun. Tae was dancing his heart out with you, making small talk with some people here and there. You could engage with them as well. Soon enough, he started drinking, making himself tipsy within a couple shots and a beer.

By then you realized you would end up having to look after him at the end of the night, not the other way around.

While you came to make friends, it was practically impossible. Sure, amaybe small talk. Sadly, it always led to the same outcome:

Every girl coming up tried to get it in with Tae and glared at you for being with him or was too drunk.

Meanwhile every guy either tried to get you to drink, tried to touch you, to which Taehyung did push them off immediately, or was also well, way too drunk.

So much for making friends, i guess.

Noticing you have been zoning out for a while, your eyes glance back to the guys in front of you, leaning against the counter.

Wondering how many shots it has been since you last looked.

Both set the small, empty shot glasses on top of the surface.

"Six. Four left to go Tae" Jackson looks relaxed, flushed out a bit but definitely stable, definitely not tipsy yet.

Taehyung on the other hand was slurring his words, a drunkenly hazed smile spread flat across his flushed pink face.

" 'course man. Bring it on"

Shaking your head, you ponder if it was even worth staying still.

Time is truly a weird thing because just when the thought was finished, the words "I´m leaving" at the tip of your tongue,

The guys have already taken another shot, the 7th one back to back.

Tae opens his mouth to speak, presumably about to brag,

" s'easy Jacks-"

but, he can't finish his sentence due to gagging and quickly covering his mouth with his hand.

Of course.

You wince at the sight, Tae stumbles back fast, running and making his way to the bathroom on unstable footing.

That's to not leaving my side tonight, i guess.

A few minutes with Jackson would be fine, you suppose. Tae would be back soon enough.

"Come on princess, take a shot too. Loosen up a bit"

His steps approach you as he talks, his voice sounding like a little devil, waiting to convince you of his foolish plans.

You laugh a small, annoyed laugh,

One hand running through your hair as you talk,

"How many times have i told you I'm not drinking?" unamused, as you look him up and down

But he steps one foot closer, finger grazing your arm maliciously, bringing shivers to your skin at an instant.

"Come on, you need it. Let me give it to you princess, now that Taehyung is gone"

Instinctively tug your arm back, ready to scream in disgust.

But his grip only tightens, a whole palm wrapped around your wirst now, trapping you in his hold as he squeezes.

Angry and scared all at once, you shout at him, the sound coming from the bottom of your throat.

"Fuck off, i told you im not interested"

The pop music playing betrays you, drowning out your screams, reducing it to a hopless yelp.

Filled with rage and mentally cursing at Taehyung for being careless, your eyes flicker to the way which he had left, only to find it filled with everyone but him.

Jacksons arm swiftly moves to grab your hip as he steps closer, his other hand making its way to your waist. He leans down, breath close enough to make every single hair stand up on your neck.

"Fine, if you wanna act so stuck up, hope you know how to swim bitch. Might pull out the stck from your ass"

Before you could process what words had left his mouth, you were lifted up over his shoulders as he ran out the glass door.

no no no no no

A second later you are submerged in the cold water of the pool, splashing loudly,

Not failing to catch everyone´s attention.

The reality of what you had dreaded surrounding you as your mind runs miles.

Muffled you can make out people shouting, the water drowning out the sounds ever so slightly, dimming your lights.

Shutting out any other thoughts.

Fuck.

Helplessly, your arms move, trying to fight your way back up.

Gasping for a breath of air once your face had finally poked out from the greedy water below you,

A laughter breaks,

And another one,

Soon enough it felt like the whole campus was laughing at you, calling you pathetic.

When you manage to climb your way up to the surface completely, holding on to the rim for dear life, you hadn´t yet fully grasped what was going on,.

Everyone else on the other hand had, phones recording your smudged, drenched face and hair, clothes clinging to every nook of your figure, working hard to drag you back down by the heavy weight.

Weakly you pull yourself out of the pool, the sound of laughter still humiliating you, along with Jackson proudly walking off inside the party again.

Probably searching for his next victim.

Absolutely petrified and fucking freezing, you run back to the kitchen were you had left your bag minutes ago. Ready to find Taehyung and get the hell out of this mess.

Minutes before you were thrown in a pool on your first and certainly last frat party, being caught on camera on top of everything.

While pushing through people, you do happen to spot Taehyung,

on the couch,

making out shirtless with a girl that, not surprisingly, Jackson had made out with tonight as well.

That must have been your very last straw, he had not even gone looking for you, not even thinking of why you might be gone.

The dam holding back tears of embarrassment and frustration breaking, evrey single tear you had in you beginning to flow down your face, merging with the chlorinated water that´s already coated along your entirety.

Grabbing your purse and running out, you call the only person you knew to call.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

"FUCK YOU GYUUUU IM WINNING" the XBox Controller tightly clutched in his hand, hunched forward to stare at the screen that lights up his dark bedroom, Jungkook's voice rings through his apartment.

Fifa is not for the weak if you play with Jungkook.

"JEON JUNGKOOK YOU FUCKER" Mingyu screams back, slamming the controller down on the teachers bed.

He lost again, 5th time in a row. There is truly nothing that Jungkook can´t do, it seems.

"Mad huh? Mad?" he laughs, punching into his best friends arm jokingly, a wide and proud smile provoking every one of Mingyu´s nerves at once.

The moment is caught off by his phone ringing, interrupting Mingyu in the middle of trying to deck Jungkook straight in the stomach.

He picks it up, reading your name on his bright screen.

Mingyu, as curious as he is, listens for any words he could make out, planing to use it for teasing Jungkook later on.

Only to be met with loud cries and hics,

"Jungkook please come get me, something horrible happend i wanna go home please pick me up, please come get me, ah fuck" you ramble through sobs, not being able to think straight.

Jungkook's eyes soften at the noise, his eyebrows meeting together as worry washes through his body.

He looks at mingyu who seems equally as worried.

"Hey hey hey, it's okay. Just send me your location, it's okay, i'll drive fast" while he says this, his body shoots up, tucking his phone between his shoulder and face to put on a jacket and gather his keys in the meantime.

Mingyu stands up with him, rushing to put on his own shoes and jacket.

"Thank you, thank you" you mumble again, trying to tap your phone through blurry vision, barely managing to hold it together any second more.

The sounds from the other end stop, his phone slipping back in his pocket.

"Fuck gyu i might end up in jail today if someone fucking touched her" he groans, jutting down the stairs with his best friend following.

"I'll bail you out. Want me to tag along? Might need some help" he asks, wondering what could have possibly made you this upset.

So does Jungkook, thinking of the worst possible situations, a pang of guilt running through him.

Should have come with her, he thinks.

Jungkook shakes his head, "No no, thank you tough. I don't want her to feel unsafe, she might not wanna see anyone right now" his thoughts continue running ballistic, from going to hold you and reassure you that it is okay, to strangling who ever made you sob, made you sound so scared.

Mingyu smiles, "Take good care of her. You care about her a lot, that's good" he pats his back, before making his way down to his own car while Jungkook unlocks his.

Sitting down and scrambling to turn the engine on, he drives as fast as he can through the thankfully empty streets, keeping an eye on your live location in anxiety that it would move.

When he finally spots you, crying messily, squatted down next to a random building, his car pulls over.

Having to fight back the urge to cradle you, wipe all your tears.

Sure, he had seen you upset before, seen you hurt after something and usually, he'd be annoyed,

Having to muster up some empathy.

Not this time, not when you were falling apart in the cold, in the middle of the road.

There was nothing put empathy in his system.

Jungkook runs out of the car, crouching down in front of you, his eyes scanning your figure.

He notices your entire body shaking, clothes clinging to you, soaking wet. Once his eyes move up your face, he sees your wet hair sticking to your face with eyeliner running down to your jaw.

Eyes red and lips trembling.

"Y/n what.. what happened" he reaches forward to set a hand on your arm, his thumb stroking your cold skin, hoping to provide any warmth.

Every thought of beating up the person who had brought you to this state leaving him,

All he cares about when seeing you so fragile is wanting to make you feel okay.

Your voice comes out broken, wiping your tears with unstable hands. Even in the dark of the night, you could make up the worried expression on his face.

You felt ashamed, embarrassed to have to call him, to make him see you like this.

The look on his face earsed every trace of feeling pathetic before his eyes,

Knowing you were safe now.

He had never felt so angry and devastated combined, desperately he wants to stop your tears. Longing for anything that would return you to your usual self.

"home please i, i will tell y-you later"

Jungkook nods, standing up as he signals you to stand up as well.

Holding on to the wall behind you, you get up, only to stumble forward. The cold on your wet skin is too much, the wind pushing you back to the ground,

contributing to your already triggered state of mind.

It is all too much.

His strong arms catch you from falling to the floor, wrapping around your own shivering ones.

"It's okay. Can i carry you inside? Don't want you to fall" his eyes scan for any reaction, any indication of you being even slightly uncomfortable.

But you trust Jungkook, you needed him right now.

So you nod, looking back at him with a noticeable look of appreciation.

Gently, one of his hands move to wrap around your shoulders as he crouches down slightly. His other arm wraps around your thighs, delicately swinging you in his arms bridal style.

The water is dripping on to his own clothes, but he doesn´t even feel it at all, he doesn´t notice how your tears trickle down to his shirt when you try to hold up your head.

How your hair was whipping against his chest with every step.

The way he touches you is sweet enough to erase the marks of disgust left on your skin by Jackson's filthy hands.

Slowly he walks to the car, ducking his head and back to open the back door without having to set you down.

The crying has stopped out of pure exhaustion, although the comforting smell of Jungkook's clothes did contribute a fair amount.

He has begun to feel like home.

His arms reach forward to lay you down in the backseats.

"Try to relax okay? Im gonna get us home fast, it's gonna be okay" he mumbles, stroking your arm reassuringly as he let's go of you.

You don't manage to react in any way, even if your heart had swelled up in your chest.

Jungkook jogs to the drivers seat, making his way inside the car again.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The whole ride was completely silent. Not even the usual humming habit of Jungkook sounding in the car.

With your back pressed on the seats in the back your eyes are pried open, red and burning from the make up and salt on your face. You´re thinking of blocking Taehyung and never wasting a word on him ever again.

Almost blaming yourself for giving in and coming to the party in the first place.

The car comes to a hold, the familiar street greeting you when you sit back up to look around.

Jungkooks eyes looking at you from the mirror, releasing a breath he had held for way too long.

Thanking himself internally for keeping your vow of not drinking.

He gets out, walking over to open your door and sticking a hand out to you.

You look up at him with the weakest smile he had ever seen, admiring you for even being able to muster up any smile at all.

grit your teeth sometimes and keep going, he had told you back in the hospital.

Your own hand clasping into his, heart skipping a beat as he pulls you up.

His hand never left your own until he had opened the door to his apartment.

He didn't need to ask this time, knowing you would take his hand.

It made him melt when you did.

"I'm gonna get you clothes okay? Sit down on the couch" the words ring in your ears wonderfully, feeling thankful for his help once again.

As he disappears into the guest bedroom, you run your hands down your face in disbelief.

Being thrown in a pool and called a bitch for rejecting guy was not your bucket list, ever.

Coming back with a hoodie and one of your sweatpants as well as socks, he sets them down next to you.

"Thank you kook" you mumble, looking to the floor in sheer embarrassment.

Jungkook had seen you in situations you didn't even know where possible.

"Don't worry. Im gonna get the hair dryer and make up wipes, just say something when you're done changing" his hands reach down to stroke your shoulders.

At this point you knew,

you knew that Jungkook had fully embraces you into his life.

The way his eyes look at you with no sign of the stern glare he still mingled with until now. The way his voice is rough but reassuring, the way his hands keep touching you in an effort to make up for the hurt on your face.

He locks himself in the bathroom, pulling out make up wipes from your cosmetic bag and gathering up the caple of the dryer while you sit on the couch, slowly changing your clothes into warm and dry ones.

Looking at himself in the mirror startled him.

Not even Jungkook could really recognize himself,

Sharp features of his reflection staring back at him with worry, asking himself if you felt okay on his couch right now.

"Done" you shout out, still choked up from the loud sobbing previously, throat itching slightly from the cold.

The door opens once again, walking to you before plugging in the dryer. He sits down, immediately looking at you.

"Here. Take your time okay?"

"Okay" your fingers reach to the wipes, erasing the traces of the ruined make up that you had put on beautifully hours prior.

A pathetic attempt to trust in people that had let you back down again,

Cruel world.

Turning own the dryer, you start combing through your hair softly, finally filling your freezing head with warmth.

Finally making your entire body as warm as the presence of Jungkook.

Silence returns to the room as the device turns off.

"Can i.. tell you about what happend?" wandering to gaze to his soften features, he nods, smiling briefly.

You take a deep breath before mustering up the courage to tell him about the party.

"Taehyung introduced me to this football player who tried to get me into drinking multiple times. He was shirtless and he was super provocative"

He continues listening as your voice becomes weaker.

"They decided to compete in drinking ten shots but Taehyung was already tipsy. And i- Fuck i told him not to. He didn't listen and at the like, 7th shot? He was gagging, stumbling to the bathroom"

You sigh, nervously recalling the events that felt so surreal now, your eyes finally moving to his. Catching him glint at you with nervousness himself.

"He fucking promised me not to leave me alone and- and and then he did and that asshole he-" by now tears are brimming back at your eyes, unable to let out the words in a straight line.

"He fucking touched me and when i told him to back off he called me a bitch and threw me into the pool. Everybody was laughing fuck, Jungkook people were recording it. It was so fucking- it was so"

You stop, aggressively wiping tears from your face, a scoff pained it's way to the surface,

"So humiliating. Even worse, Taehyung was making out with some chick when i managed to get out the pool" your voice is a bit more stable again, angry at the memory.

Resenment is a stronger emotion than sadness in this moment.

"Motherfucker. Both of them. Motherfuckers" Jungkooks eyes turned dark, glaring at the sound of what you went through.

You laugh a small laugh, "I know"

He inches closer to you,

"I'm gonna get them suspended. What was the friends name?" His expression is serious, determined of making them feel it.

You shake your head slowly,

"No don't- please don't go through all that effort okay? They won't make it long anyways"

He glares at you too now, before catching himself doing so, revoking it and replacing it with a neutral expression.

"Don't let them walk all over you. At least that football guy, im getting his scholarship revoked, what he did was assault. Please let me do this for you"

His voice is stern, he isn't asking.

And you knew he was right.

".. Jackson. Wang, i think"

He huffs, "He can kiss his degree goodbye. I'll find something to make em. Promise you. I might just strangle him myself if I'm being honest" he sighs, his hand rubbing his forehead in an effort to not snap and drive back to party.

A soft giggle can be heard inside the suffocating sphere of the living room.

He looks back up at you,

"What's so funny?" a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips,

You giggle again, focused on the way his lips look when trying to hold back a smile.

"You. Seeing you so worked up. I like it, makes me realize this friendship may not be that one sided after all"

He groans in response, leaning back against the couch and tilting his head to look back into your eyes,

"It took me carrying you to my car to make you understand that i care about you?"

Your heart jumping at the admission,

His eyes widen slightly as he hears himself admit to it, but he tries to conceal it.

Play it off like he isn´t surprised himself.

"Letting you live with me for damn near two weeks wasn't enough, huh?" His elbow digs into your side,

But you can't react, stuck on the fact that his teeth are lightly digging into the side of his lip, biting it softly.

Eyes wandering to his torso that is leaning back on his couch, his lap looking so inviting.

Only now noticing how close he is next to you.

It's his turn to chuckle now,

"Would pay to know what's in that pretty head of yours right now"

Another breath caught in your throat, eyes shooting back up to meet his,

They are ranking over you entirely,

Watching your every feature, studying you as if you were a piece of art in a gallery.

His flirty tone making it hard not to just risk it, crawl into his lap and tell him how you feel about his stupidly handsome face and his annoying way to care for you.

"Shut up, you're saying nonsense" your eyes roll to distract from the fact that you were caught red handed, shyly turning your face away from his form on the couch.

"Answer the question idiot. Did it seriously take this long for you to get it?" his voice is soft, sincerity laced beneath his words.

A long sigh makes it's way out of your mouth as you turn to take the same position that he's in, tilting your head to meet his eyes once more.

The moment is precious in a way, his face is so close you could count the moles on it, but just enough space not to loose any and all control.

"I'm not sure. I mean, i guess i knew you kinda cared, but, i think i mostly tried to gaslight myself into thinking you like me as a person and don't just see me as some sort of charity case" you laugh gently, keeping eye contact with him as you talk.

Although the words you're speaking are truthful, they aren't the full extent.

His heart clenches a bit when he thinks about it,

"Charity case? Fuck no, i mean" he pause, playing with his lip piercing,

"I guess it took me some time to get used to caring about someone else like this, living together and shit but i do like you. I find you annoying and obnoxious at times, and you still suck at photography, but i do like you, you're a good friend" his hand moves through his pretty, dark hair, trying his very best not to look down at your lips.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to hold back.

It was now, just now that he became aware too,

Aware that you weren't just a friend, roomate or a student to him,

That his feelings, his thoughts and urges weren't some sort of strange hormonal reaction.

Still, he hoped that saying it out loud would convince him that you are, indeed just a good friend.

He can´t help but notice how bothered he is by it.

You nod, almost disappointed at the way he ruined his lovely speech with three simple words.

a good friend.

"How nice of you.. thank you tho. No really, i, i appreciate you. You're.. a good friend too, Jungkook" you bite your lip softly, wishing for him to just move away or say something mean to lessen the tension.

He allows himself to look once,

Locking his eyes with your lips, noticing the small blush forming around your face.

It makes you look irresistible, naturally beautiful.

"You know I'm a liar, right? That i say a ton of things I don't actuallly mean?" his eyes are focused on your lips now, his voice almost breathless as he feels himself getting lost at the thought of you.

You scoff, chuckling softly right after,

"Absolutely, it's ridiculous, actually. But you know, i learned not to take every you say too seriously" your arm makes it's way to hit his chest playfully.

He laughs briefly, holding your wrist against his chest.

Eyes locked on your lips, just as he had feared they would.

You could practically feel your heart breaking out of your body,

Moving your palm to lay flat against his chest, you allow yourself to touch an inch of what you've been wanting to feel for so long.

"Well i just lied to you again. You're.. fuck. You're not just a friend"

The air in your lungs leaves you hanging completely, a breathless, thoughtless and emotion driven voice answering him

"I swear if you're playing with me right now I'm gonna-"

There was no time to finish your sentence,

In the blink of an eye, his hands are on your face, cupping it,

His soft, dreamy lips on your own.

There wasn't any time to process either as he pulls back briefly, just enough to whisper against your lips,

"You talk too much, and I'm not good with words"

As soon as the last letter leaves his lips, they are back on yours.

The way Jungkook kisses is as you had imagined, possessive and dominant, he needed to guide you.

Needed you to understand that he likes you,

Way more than just a friend.

Finally registering that he's actually kissing you, that this isn't one of your fanatsies, you kiss him back.

Your own lips moving softly against his, earning a small groan from him.

Melting into his kiss even further, the urge to hear his pretty sounds again overtaking you completely.

The strong hands that held your face in place move now, pulling you closer by your hips.

It makes you hum into the kiss,

Allowing him just enough space to lace his tongue in with yours,

Gently but firmly he keeps kissing you.

As infatuated with him as you are, you follow his every lead, moving in sync and savoring every single second.

Lips developing a mind of their own, Jungkook being the only thought.

By now, he is resting his large hands on your hips, shifting to pull you closer once again, sitting you on his lap,

One knee on either side of his hips, both your hands pressed firmly against his chest.

The way he pulled you to straddle him made you gasp lowly.

He smiles into the kiss, clearly affected by the way this conversation had gone,

By the way you react to his touches.

Naturally, your arms wrap around his neck, allowing your hips to rest on his, he hums in approval, gripping your hips and tightly and securing them in place for him.

Before you can wonder what all of this meant or where it was leading, he pulled back again, this time enough to get a full view of your flustered face.

At first, he doesn't say anything, making space for insecurity to creep up into your brain,

Apparently he can look into those too.

"To be clear. This means something to me. I'm not kissing you just because you looked fucking irresistible, but because i like you, i like you way more than I should. And if you don't, then you better tell me now"

Once again, his pretty face doesn't match his stern words, he's nervous.

You could tell by the way he licks his piercing, nibbling on the small metal ring.

If it was even more possible, your heart swelled with affection for him, desperate to tell him what you had felt for so long.

"I like you too. I like you way too much. Wasn't it obvious? I wanted this for so long"

Without wanting to waste any more time on things you could discuss later on, your head leans back down to kiss him.

He groans much softer this time, his hands ranking up to your sides, feeling them up slowly.

He needs to touch you, feel you, kiss you everywhere.

Just like he had imagined for long now, chopping it up to feeling touch starved.

But the words urge out of his mouth,

"I guess that means you're mine now" he mumbles against your lips in a sultry voice, the heat of the moment becoming far too much.

This wasn't just out of hormonal instincts, both of you could feel it.

A smile latches on to your lips, forcing you to stop kissing him for just a second

"Possessive, i see.. but i want to know much more about you first kook" your reply is sheepish, well aware that him calling you his was enough to turn your underwear see through.

He hums again, placing a hand on your cheek, stroking his thumb against it as his eyes move to your lips.

"I'll tell you everything you want later, let me keep kissing you first" his thumb drags down to your bottom lip, stroking it gently as his pretty brown eyes fixate back on your own ones, looking for resistance.

"Kiss me then" was all it took for him to close the gap once again.

Your arms unwrap around him, moving in anticipation when they reach the hem of his shirt.

You tug on it gently, asking for him to remove it.

He groans once more, "so eager" slips past his lips when he makes enough room to take the shirt off,

Revealing what must be the most beautifully, carefully carved person you have ever laid your eyes on.

His tattoos reach up to his shoulder, you've seen it before but it's even better when you get to touch them, carefully trace the lines with your finger tip.

His chest is firm, a broad set of shoulders that make his small and very well-defined abdomen look even more sinched.

The sight is truly breath taking, your hands caressing, touching everywhere they can.

He likes to think that it doesn't phase him, but the way his body shivers makes it undeniable.

"Done staring, doll?" he asks, the nickname sending a wave of pleasure straight through you as he tilts your face back up to look at his.

"Mhm.. you're just really hot" you can't help but giggle, finally being able to touch and kiss him, it makes you giddy.

Finally being able to utter out all your dirty thoughts, even if it embarrasses you.

He rolls his eyes, sneaking his hands teasingly under your hoodie, caressing the soft and bare skin of your stomach.

A low moan follows his movement, you attempt to kiss him but he smirkes, leaning his head back softly.

This time you whine, having already guessed that he's as much of a tease as he normally is too.

"You sound so desperate. Want me too take this off hm?"

You only muster up a small nod, in no time the hoodie is thrown somewhere, forgotten easily by the way his eyes sparkle when landing on your chest.

Roaming over your chest down to your hips, taking in every inch as his hands reach to grab them.

In one swift motion, you're tucked beneath him on the couch, his shirtless figure hovering over yours, veiny hands resting on your stomach, softly touching his way upwards.

"Just tell me to stop if you don't want anything" he's considered, gentle in the same way that he's demanding.

"Will do, but right now i really need you to continue"

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you again before moving to kiss down to your neck, softly burrying himself in it.

Hearing you moan and gasp was enough to make him lose his mind, make him want to give you absolutely everything you could ever ask for.

"Feels.. nice.." your hands play with his hair, holding the back of his head firmly against your neck.

He bites your neck in response, one of his hands moving to cup your chest in it, squeezing and groping firmly.

He keeps kissing, licking and gently sucking at your skin, trying to learn about every spot that made you moan a little louder.

Once he's satisfied with your neck, a short kiss is placed on your lips.

His head trails down to your chest, kissing from collarbone further south.

"You look even prettier than i imagined" he mutters against your skin, lips in the space between your breasts, kissing and sucking carefully.

"I-Imagined?" you manage to say between soft moans, to shy to let out what you really felt.

Your teeth biting down on your lip so hard it could have made an imprint.

He chuckles against your skin,

"Mhm.. many times doll, driving me insane with these pretty sounds, keep making noises" his voice is deep, underlined with desire.

"f-feels so good.." your whines filling is request instantly, feeling his lips wrapped around your breast as the other one is being gently cupped and squeezed, making you feel blissfully satisfied.

He switches sides after a couple more seconds, your eyes focused on his hand that looks so large compared to you.

However the sight of his bare and definitely well toned, broad back peeking out made you feral, needing to touch him too.

So you do, moving to wrap your arms under his, touching his back carefully as sinfully sweet noises come out of both your lips.

His lips move from your chest to your own, both of his hands groping your chest, moving and brushing over your spots carefully, hitting ever sensitivity.

He lets go of your chest just as he lets go of your lips, his hands making their way down to your waist, wrapping around and securing you in place.

Jungkook´s beautiful dark eyes can't seem to leave your body, licking his lips before planting gentle open mouth kisses down your stomach, nibbling at the skin every so slightly.

"Can i take this off?" his tattooed fingers playing with the hem of your pants, teasing and tugging beneath it with a sly smile on his face.

"Yes please" almost pathetically quiet you answer him, desperate for him to touch you, to make you see stars.

He nods, pulling down your pants to reveal white lacy panties beautifully placed over your core.

Jungkook doesn't like to waste time, so he moves his hands up and down your thighs while kissing your hip,

"So soft" purring against your skin, his lips move to kiss your thighs, hooking one arm gently under one leg, spreading them open. His kisses become more passionate which each one, kissing and nibbling the inside of your thighs,

Dangerously close to where you wanted him to be right now.

Your hand wraps around his soft curls once more, gently tugging, making him groan.

"Doing so well doll, i know you're desperate, so needy. Gonna give it to you yeah? Ask nicely" the way he sounds right now, raspy and gentle, the way he uses the nickname that rolls beautifully off of his tongue, it is enough to make you whimper.

Close to being speechless, you stammer out softly, needing him more than anything.

"Please kook.. touch me.. please eat me out, fuck this is so embarrassing" your hand untangles from his hair, both of them meeting to cover your face.

A small laugh can be heard before he moves his own hands up, prying yours from your face by your wrist.

He scans your face, your slightly parted lips inviting him to a kiss once more.

"Don't hide pretty, sound so good when you're this pathetic and desprate. Gonna give you just what you asked for"

He hooks his arm back under your thigh, the other one holding you by the knee. Letting his eyes wander down to your core for just a moment, he takes in the sight of your soaked underwear, basically transparent.

It made him twitch in his pants,

Knowing that he has just about the same effect on you as you do on him.

He presses a kiss your still covered clit, tongue poking out to lick over it, pressing the fabric to your skin.

It doesn't take long for him to move his tongue down to your entrance, licking slow stripes across and using the tip of his tongue to push the fabric into your slit a little bit.

It fills you with excitement and frustration,

"Please stop teasing me.. please" your whines are much louder now, annoyed that you're so close to finally feeling the relief you need.

Finally knowing how it feels to have him touch you.

He groans softly, quickly pulling the panties down to your ankles before latching on to suck on your clit.

The feeling is euphoric, nothing compares to seeing Jungkook's pretty face burried between your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit as his tongue gently darts across it.

He moves his tongue down, caressing your thighs with his hands, tasting every drop of arousal spilling out from you.

His body is filled with the need to feel your every reaction, touch where ever he can reach.

The tip of his tongue pushing into your hole ever so slightly, before moving to lick back up to your clit.

Ever since he started you haven't stopped moaning, softly rambling about how good he feels.

"Look so pretty.. fuck it feels so- so good.." your voice trails off into a whimper, the knot in your stomach tightening with each lick, his soft groans only intensifying the pleasure.

Helplessly your hips buck into his face,

he takes it gladly, humming in approval.

"You'll take a finger won't you doll?" he says as his pointer finger is already circling your entrance, ghosting over it.

As a response, your hips buck up again slightly, moving both hands to grab his shoulders, nodding furiously at his question.

"Words. Will you take it?´´ he repeats, his tongue returning back to licking your folds once he finished speaking.

"Yes, yes, yes will take it"

"Good, very good" he pushes his single digit in without any further warning, sinking in until his knuckle stops him, immediately pumping in an out.

"So fucking small doll, only my finger and you´re suffocating it, so greedy" the vibration of his low purring only supporting your approaching orgasm.

For a moment Jungkook allows himself to look at you, face fucked out completely, eyes weakly staring down at him,

Your mouth opened softly as gasps and whines leave your mouth.

It keeps him going to see you enjoy it, his finger speeding up as his licks become more firm.

The pleasure built up fast from that point, feeling like you would snap and come on his tongue and finger at any moment, clenching around it.

He moans softly on your skin when he feels it,

"Close? Are you gonna coat my finger with your cum pretty?"

"Jungkook- fuck yes, close. God, the way you talk is driving me insane" your legs pick up shaking again, fingers digging into his shoulders when your whole body shudders against him.

His voice, his hands, lips, face burried between your thighs, it all creats a beautiful picture, unforgettable.

"Come on doll, give it to me, let me taste it" his lips move to wrap around your clit,

Which is all that you needed to come undone under his touch, shaking and whimpering loudly.

He slowly retracts his mouth, stroking your thighs and gently moving his fingers to let you ride out the high, before removing it completely as you still pant from the pleasure.

Naked and slightly bruised chest moving heavily, clit swollen and throbbing.

He places a small kiss against your hip,

"Did so well, sounded so fucking pretty, taste so sweet"

You look at him wide eyed as he licks his finger clean, clearly enjoying every drop of your release he could get.

His hand reach down to your ankles, pulling your panties back up and kissing your newly covered clit one last time.

"Come here, calm down yeah? You on earth doll?" he chuckles in a cocky and low tone, pulling himself up next to you and placing a kiss on to your forehead.

The absolute aftershock and realization hitting you, immediately blushing the darkest shade of red and hiding against his chest.

"Oh.. my..god. what the fuck just.." mumbling against his chest he strokes your back and hair softly. A small effort to reassure you.

"No don't. Don't say it. I know what happened but.. i mean.. what.." you continue, not knowing how to act know, not knowing what to say.

Asking yourself if that meant you were his now, like he had said before.

"Well, you tell me. I said you're mine, you're the one wanting to know things" he puts one hand under your chin, lifting your face to his and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Although his eyes look neutral, his kiss is filled with care.

You smile against his lips,

"Fuck whatever i said, i can learn while being yours, if the offer still stands"

He scoffs, flicking your forehead once he pulls away from the kiss

"You're an idiot. Of course it does"

It was hard not to giggle when he's being so stupid after giving you the best orgasm of your life.

It's your turn to kiss him now, placing a small peck to his cheek and another one to his jaw.

His lips curve into a softy smile, "Come on, let's go to bed hm?"

Your head tilts at his suggestion, knowing full well that he's fully errect,

You can feel him pressed against you after all.

"But.. what about you?" he strokes your hair before holding your cheek in his palm, a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Don't worry, i don't really care for that right now, besides I don't want to tire out miss virgin Mary hm?" his hand moves down to your chin, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and remaining fingers.

Instead of reacting, your entire body freezes, looking at him with an expressionless face.

"What? Think i couldn't tell? Come on, you were a mess from kissing, so tight around only a single finger doll. Not that hard to miss" he chuckles, kissing your forehead another time, all the while you wish you could disintegrate into the ground.

Sure, it might have been easy to tell, but did have to keep teasing?

"Oh my god you're unbelievable. Do you.. uh, mind that i didn't say anything?"

His hand moves to grab your hoodie that was surprisingly not far gone, tapping your arms to signal you to lift them up,

"No, i don´t. I get it, i mean, I'm not that experienced either and at my age that is kind of embarrassing to admit as well" he speaks carefully while slipping the hoodie back over you, moving some strands of hair out of your face.

You nod, smiling at his delicate gesture.

"I see, you're sure that you're okay?"

He rolls his eyes,

"Yes, I'm sure. Come on, let's go to bed, I´m tired, i know you´re too" he shifts, picking up his tossed shirt and your pants only to throw them on the couch when he stands up.

You´re still sitting, eyes moving down to the very visible bulge in his pants, straining them in a sexy and arousing way.

He snorts, waving a hand in front of your face before he grabs yours, pulling you up and leading you to his bedroom.

"Kook?" you ask him, a million questions running through your mind at once.

Everything that happened after the intimacy is so normal, almost thoughtlessly routine.

His presence being so comforting and complete to you, you did not even need to ask why you should sleep next to him, or if it was okay to do so.

"Yes?" he answers, pulling the covers on his bed back and stepping closer to hold you by your waist and staring you down,

A look of admiration on his face, his eyes practically screaming the words I love you

"So.. we.. uhm.. this is official now?" was somehow the only condensed version of all the thoughts you could gather together.

He smiles, lifting you briefly to lay you on his bed, climbing in to lay beside you, his hand immediately finding your face again.

"What does it look like? How many times do you need me to confess? Damn, im starting to think doll, that this gets you off" he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his warm body.

Your feelings for him intensifying in that very second,

"No, but i do get off on that nickname. And the way you're so touchy. Kinda cute" you scrunch your nose up, putting your arms on his body as well.

"Shut up. Sleep well yeah?" he says, tucking your head under his to stop you from seeing the shyness spread across his cheeks, accompanied by the smile visible in his voice.

"Sleep well, kook. but.."

"Oh my god what is it?" he groans, squeezing your body to show off his annoyance.

You giggle softly,

"Thank you. For saving my ass today and uh.. for, you know" the last words leave your mouth in a stuttered manner, too shy to speak out what you are referring to.

He scoffs playfully, "21 and can't say the word orgasm. Whatever, get used to it doll, gonna take care of you from now on"

Knowing it didn't matter how annoyed he was, nothing could take away the fact that you're falling asleep in his arms this very second.

It made both of your hearts melt.

[cosmicjoke]

So I think I’m starting to see what it is about “Tale of the Body Thief” that puts some fans off.

The parallels being drawn between Lestat and this Raglan James guy are obvious, some might even say heavy-handed.  Earlier in the story, Lestat talks to David about basically being a wolf in sheep’s clothing, how his appearance is deceptive, how he isn’t the young man he appears to be, etc...  He does this to warn David off of thinking too highly of him, to remind David that he is, in fact, a monster.  And we see in Raglan’s first real meeting with Lestat that mirror image, of a monster concealed within a seemingly innocent, beautiful body.  And I get specifically what’s upsetting to people who are fans of Lestat’s portrayal through the first three books, particularly in “The Vampire Lestat” and “Queen of the Damned”, that being the implication that Lestat’s claims of emotion, that his claims of feeling, his claims of anguish at what he is, the guilt he feels over being a vampire, his moments of seeming goodness and kindness are a lie, both that he’s telling to himself and to the reader.  Lestat notes how good of an actor this Raglan James is, that he’s very convincingly affecting the demeanor of someone who is charming, and deeply empathetic and even kind, but who, in reality, is a horrible person who has no qualms whatsoever in hurting others.  Given some of the things I’ve seen Anne Rice herself say about Lestat being “evil” and knowing how to make people believe he isn’t, it seems to support what’s being put forth here in this book, that Lestat’s expressions of empathy and care and kindness in the previous books have all been some kind of falsehood.  And, yeah... I can see why that’s upsetting to a lot of fans, and why they write books 4-10 off.  Lestat is, after all, more like a lovable rogue in the first three books.  If you’re a fan of him in those books, suddenly being told that everything he portrayed himself to be there is a lie would be upsetting, even infuriating. 

Louis even claims here that Lestat’s never once cried in front of him, which Lestat calls him out on as a lie, considering he claimed Lestat to have cried in their made up encounter in New Orleans in the 70s.  But Louis says to Lestat that he was “born a monster”, that he was never human, even before becoming a vampire, a clear accusation of him always having been a bad person.

If this is the case, it robs Lestat of the very tragic struggle between his human nature and his vampiric nature, and takes away a great deal of his relatability and sympathy as a character.  It turns him into a liar through and through.

I really do wonder about this though, because it seems to completely undercut what Anne Rice herself accomplished in those first three books, which was such a poignant and moving exploration of the effects of trauma on a person, how it continues to impact them all throughout their lives, in both their behavior, and in their relationships, etc...

Basically, I have a really hard time believing Anne Rice really saw Lestat, her hero, as nothing but a two-faced liar who never felt any real guilt or remorse at all for the lives he’s taken, or that his struggle with his vampiric nature was all BS. 

I think, probably much more in line with Anne Rice’s obviously deep understanding of the human psyche, and human nature, that what’s really going on in this scene between Lestat and Raglan, is that Lestat is seeing a reflection of himself in this man.  A man who is never satisfied, a man who refuses to accept the rules, a man who refuses to accept defeat, and who goes out and takes what he wants, regardless of the consequences, and with apparently no sense of guilt or remorse for doing so.  And of course, not liking what he sees, and yet seeing himself in this person, Lestat is repulsed. 

But what’s important to understand also here is that this Raglan James is obviously a master manipulator, and both Louis and David warned Lestat that he obviously knew Lestat well, and that’s why he targeted him.  He saw in Lestat an easily manipulated mark, someone he could convince in any way he really wished.  There’s a scene early on in the book, when Lestat is talking to David, and he becomes distracted by a car out on the road, driving slowly through a blinding snow storm.  It seems pretty obvious to me that that must have been Raglan out there.  And it’s in Lestat’s conversation with David here that he warns him off of trusting him too much, that he isn’t as he appears.  And what we find out later is that Raglan is quite adept at hearing Lestat’s thoughts, even as Lestat isn’t able to hear his, so we can assume he’s aware of Lestat’s insistence that he’s this evil monster who can’t and shouldn’t be trusted.  And Raglan seems perfectly like the type of person to prey on just that sort of guilt-fueled insecurity in another person.

In their final exchange, Lestat asks Raglan what he wants to use his body for, and Raglan laughs and tells him that he wants it to take life, of course, that it’s the ultimate prize for a thief like him.  And then he tells Lestat that Lestat himself is the ultimate thief. 

Lestat is completely repelled by Raglan’s seeming lack of guilt or conscience regarding the act of murder.  He tells Raglan to get away from him, and Raglan laughs at him again.

I think that Reglan is purposefully fucking with Lestat, manipulating him by playing on his fear of his own monstrosity and guilt to get him to agree to switching bodies.  By drawing obvious parallels to the similarity between them, and revealing just enough of his own lack of conscience or remorse to plant this idea in Lestat’s head that his own feelings of guilt and remorse, his own moral difficulties with what he is, are false.  Lestat is appalled and, in the end, almost frightened of Reglan because he sees himself reflected in him, and seeing Reglan for the true monster he is, for the remorseless thief he is, he ends up believing the same of himself.

Reglan keeps driving home to Lestat that he’s a thief, and then laughing at him when Lestat denies it.  He says all the right things to him to entice him further into this notion that he wants to be human again, that he’ll get to experience all the things that being a vampire has taken from him, like food, and the sun, and sex.  Reglan is a liar, and he’s a manipulator, and he’s doing a hell of a good job manipulating Lestat here, at points almost entrancing him by knowing exactly the right thing to say and how to act, showing compassion for his plight.  He even says at one point that this thing he’s proposing in something only the two of them can do, just the two of them in all the world, playing on Lestat’s ardent desire to be able to matter in some way in the world, to give his life some sort of purpose. 

So my point is, I guess, that Lestat ends up believing what this guy is telling him.  He ends up seeing himself as he sees Reglan, a remorseless and unfeeling monster.  The thing is, the lie of that is revealed in Lestat feeling guilt at all.  Reglan at one point even mocks it, when Lestat asks him what’s to keep him from just indefinitely stealing his body, and he tells Lestat that he doesn’t want it forever, the same way Lestat doesn’t want it forever, if his expressions of his agonies and torment over being a vampire are at all true.  He’s planting doubt into Lestat’s head as to his own sincerity over his guilt, by again drawing obvious parallels between them and then exposing just enough of himself to make Lestat think they’re truly the same.  He even says at one point about Lestat’s story in “The Vampire Lestat” Or is the story a lie?  You’re real enough, that’s plain.  But I don’t know about all those things you wrote.”  He’s totally messing with Lestat’s trust in his own emotions.  But I don’t buy what Reglan is saying for a moment.  Lestat ISN’T the same as Raglan James.  Lestat’s feelings of guilt, the pain he feels at the mistakes he’s made, the struggle between his human nature and his vampiric nature is real. 

This really is a tragic thing we see unfolding, then, I think, because we’re watching Lestat being tricked out of believing in his own humanity. And that might account for him later becoming a more ruthless person.

Louis says to Lestat, before he meets with Reglan the next night “Something dreadful’s going to happen to you again.  You’’re going to see to it.  I know.”

Lestat talks about in this book how he seeks out others who will make him pay for all the bad things he’s done.  Louis and Claudia, Marius, David etc...  Louis says to Lestat “... you pick the voices that scold you.  You always have, in the same manner in which you pick those who will turn on you and stick the knife right into your heart.”

I’m more and more convinced that almost all of Lestat’s reckless and impulsive decisions are, in some way, an attempt to punish himself.  His guilt is so great, his sense of guilt, that he plows blindly forward with whatever choice will most make him pay for what he is and what he’s done, and he’s so consumed with this need for self-punishment, that he doesn’t think through the ways in which it will effect the people he loves.  He doesn’t think about how putting himself in danger can endanger others, he doesn’t think about how it will hurt Louis if he tries to kill himself, or if he tries to start a war with other vampires, or if he lets this Raglan James guy live, etc...  It isn’t that Lestat doesn’t care enough about others to care about what happens to them.  It’s that he hates himself so much that he can’t see past his desire to make himself suffer.  He’s been made to feel like a monster since he was a child, unwanted and unloved by his family, even his mother, to some extent.  He’s been made to feel like his very existence is a burden and a disgrace, by his father and brothers, by Nicki, by Armand, by Louis, by Claudia.  Louis admits after Lestat tells him he was cruel to tell him he was always a monster, that that was wrong of him to say.  The exact exchange is:

“And by the way, I wasn’t born a monster!  I was born a mortal child, the same as you!  Stronger than you!  More will to live than you!  That was cruel of you to say.”

“I know.  It was wrong.  Sometimes you frighten me so badly I hurl sticks and stones at you.  It’s foolish.  I’m glad to see you, though I dread admitting it...”

It’s obvious how afraid Lestat is, of this idea that he was always a monster, always a bad person.  He speaks about this very fear with Gabrielle, when he talks about wanting to leave his boyhood home and go to Paris, but how he thinks he can’t do so without being bad.  Lestat’s whole image of himself is wrapped up in this idea that to BE himself is to BE bad, and that negative self-image was born out of so many people in his life basically telling him as much.  Even Louis does it here, before walking it back and apologizing. 

And this is the mindset Lestat walks into his meeting with Raglan with.

But the truth is, if Lestat was truly this evil, remorseless monster that he fears and deep down believes himself to be, than he would never be burdened by any sense of guilt.  He wouldn’t seek out others to punish him for being who he is, he wouldn’t be having visions of Claudia, and thinking constantly of how he’s wronged her, of the pain she felt, he wouldn’t be so agonized over his lust for blood and desire to kill that he would try to kill himself to end his suffering, or just simply punish himself by exposing himself to the sun.  He would be like Raglan James.  Someone who feels nothing at all when he hurts others.

That isn’t Lestat.  Clearly.  And again, the tragedy here, I think, even as I’m only in the first part of the book, is that Lestat ends up believing it about himself anyway.

[gnomeyflamingo]

✮ Regaining Confidence ✮

And (finally) we return to the same room we left Atreo in, around 3 sim days ago...

Brielle: “Atreo? Sweetie?”

Atreo: *depressed silence*

Brielle: “I know you’re struggling sweetie but you can’t stay in your room forever… It’s Acco’s birthday party today, it would mean a lot to him if you could be there-”

Atreo: “Go away Mum. I can’t face the world without Asmara.”

Brielle: “But you haven’t broken up, or argued, or even talked since-”

Atreo: “I know what I did to her. I cheated on her even though I said I never would. I wasn’t strong enough-”

Brielle: *sighs* “Oh sweetie… Can you at least have a shower?”

Atreo: “No, it’s all too much.”

Alejandro: "Atreo's still not coming out of his room?"

Brielle: "No. By the Watcher, it can’t be a moodlet issue right? We don’t even grieve our departed loved ones this long. Could he be glitched?”

Alejandro: "Maybe? My turn to try I guess.”

Brielle: “Good luck honey."

Alejandro: *knocks* “Atreo, it’s me, Papi, I’m respecting your privacy by knocking, but I’m still coming in no matter what you say.”

Atreo: “Ugghhhh no just let me be.”

Alejandro: “Oof, it smells SO bad in here-”

Atreo: *sarcastically* “Thanks Alejandro.”

Alejandro: “Buddy, we’re all worried about you, please talk to me.”

Atreo: “Fine. I messed up and now my life’s ruined.”

Alejandro: “It can’t be as bad as all that…”

Atreo: “But it is! I cheated on Asmara with Derya and I then turned one of the Watcher’s friends into a dragon toy.”

Alejandro: “Uhm okay, is that teenage slang for something or-?”

Atreo: “No, I was rude to her in my dream and she turned into a dragon toy! And then the Watcher and their other friend cursed me.” *sobs*

Atreo: “Right… You’re definitely going through a lot-”

Atreo: “Yes! And nobody understands! I’m all alone, just screwing up everything!”

Alejandro: “You’re not alone. Your family’s here and we love you.”

Alejandro: “So the Watcher, what do they want from you exactly?”

Atreo: “For me to complete my aspiration!”

Alejandro: “And you don’t want to?”

Atreo: "I used to at but then Asmara became my gf and now... I don't know anymore."

Alejandro: “You need to trust yourself buddy. Fight your doubts. You’re a self assured romantic! Go out there and convince Asmara that you want to work on your relationship, or ask her to be just friends for now while you figure things out.”

Alejandro: “You’re still a teen. Being confused and finding yourself are all part of your life stage.”

Atreo: “That’s…Good advice actually. Thanks Papi.”

Alejandro: “Was that ironic or-”

Atreo: “No, I meant it.”

Alejandro: “I am the happiest sim in the world right now."

A little later downstairs…

Acco: “I don’t get why Atreo’s depressed? Did Asmara catch him cheating?”

Brielle: “Nope.”

Acco: “So…Uh why is he sad?”

Brielle: “Your Papi said he isn’t glitched and the Watcher cursed him, so I assume it’s all part of a story arch.”

Atreo: *sigh* “I’m here.”

Alejandro: “What a relief!”

Brielle: “Oh thank goodness. Remember to be nice to your brother Acco.”

Acco: “Don’t worry Mum, we bonded over collective trauma.”

Alejandro: “Did the shower and changing out of your 3-day old nightwear make you feel a bit better?”

Atreo: “I guess so… I’m still upset but you were right, I’m a self assured romantic. It’s time to act on my traits and moodlets. I also ran out of days I can be off school.”

Brielle: “I’m happy you’ve come downstairs sweetie, I was worried sick. Do you need anything? A moodlet solver? A happy potion? I have SO many reward points.”

Atreo: “No thanks Mum, I’ll be okay.”

Alejandro: “Happy birthday sunshine. You excited about your party at the Pier?”

Acco: “I am!”

Atreo: “Yeah happy birthday accomplished stink bottom. May your party suck less than mine.”

Acco: “Really? You’re starting with the name calling again? I thought we were good now!”

Atreo: “We are! I’m using it as an affectionate tease. Believe me, I no longer blame you for the problems in my life. It’s all the Watcher and their annoying friends' fault”

Acco: “Okay…”

Brielle: “Woah sweetie, dial back the Watcher blame please.”

Atreo: “I don’t care anymore. I’m following Papi’s advice and I’ve decided I’m now very confident.”

Alejandro: “Papi… Still music to my soul.”

Acco: “Can we go to my Pier party soon? I’m starving!”

Brielle: “Here take this gift from the magical pile first, I wonder what it’ll be this time.”

Acco: “Hope it’s not dog poo again, I won’t be particularly happy about it.”

Atreo: “Wh-What is that dragon toy doing here? I sold it, I know I did!”

*Dragon toy stares in silent, sinister judgement*

Brielle: “Huh? But that’s Spicy Dragon!”

Acco: “He’s losing it.”

Atreo: “Omw no! Papi, I told you about this, it’s one of the Watcher’s friends!”

Alejandro: “Don’t be silly buddy, you’ve had Spicy D since you were a baby!”

Atreo: *mutters in growing terror* “What kind of dark mind bending magic is this- AHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

*family hovers and T-poses*

Atreo: “AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Alejandro: “Buddy are you okay?!”

Brielle: “Sweetie can you tell us why you’re suddenly cowering in abject horror?”

Acco: “What’s happening? Did you get a fear of birthday décor or something?”

Atreo: “Oh no THIS is the curse isn’t it? How… Annoying!”

To be continued...

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❧ Back to the Legacy Archive

[anerol152]

Hello! This is anon #2, back with another essay, LOL. I figured I’d try to submit a post instead because tumblr asks have a character limit and it’s such a pain trying to avoid blowing up your notifications. xD

only got a few friends to talk about it that I won’t spoil or bore after half an hour and is nice to have a way to discuss it.

Same here! I don’t know anyone else who’s just as invested so I’ve been doing my best to pretend like I’m having a normal amount of thoughts about this which, HA. HAHAHA. I really wish there was a Discord server, but I get the feeling it’d just get lumped in with all the other RE things and my brain is just like NO, ETHAN AND ROSE. xD

Also you two are really good at making Rose’s childhood even more tragic and I both thank you for that and am in a ;_; mood of my own

Misery loves company. I need someone to suffer with me because I’ve just been completely plagued with thoughts of what kind of life Rose has had and how heartbroken Ethan would be to learn about it.

Though, if I have any gripe with SoR it’s that I wish they spent a little more time with ‘Michael’ and Rose before the big reveal. Just have some scenes where they’re just trading stories about who they are! Give Rose a chance to piece together who Michael really is and Ethan to learn who his daughter is now. (On the other hand, I do love how Rose has known Ethan for all of a few hours and she’s still ready to to completely put down a smackdown when something happens to him. Ethan being like that for Rose is a given, but it was amazing to see Rose turn around and do the same. She threw away a normal life to protect him and didn’t even regret it! MY HEART.)

[…] Which is why I’m afraid she kept her mindset of 'scientist first, mother/wife second’ after Rose was born. Plus the trauma. Even if she was stone cold cruel like some fans believe (think they might be mixing her up with Miranda tho -_-“) she would have had some trauma from it still.

Yeah, sadly, I’m feeling this as well. RE8 never made her seem like a bad parent, but they definitely planted the seed for being a secretive, distant one. Especially considering Mia is still keeping secrets and who knows if she ever told Ethan about her involvement with The Connection.

SoR just kept hitting me over the head with that too. It’s possible it’s just because SoR was about Ethan-Rose, but I kept noticing that Mia was completely absent from all of the memories he shows Rose. It makes me think that Ethan was the one usually the one doing the childcare and the memories were of Ethan maybe telling Mia about their day.

On top of that, the Mia mannequin was in an area where Eveline was preying on Rose’s fears so wtf happened to cause Rose to have anxiety about her mother catching her? W H A T.

Also Rose was… way too trusting of what 'K’ wanted her to do. Going about it in secret like that? Was just odd from the start.

Oh yeah, I think it was a combo of Miranda preying on Rose’s desperation and also using someone Rose would trust completely to lure her in. I also side eye Chris here because it wasn’t him either so jfc, everyone Rose was left with failed her.

Yes Ethan justice!

He really is just a guy. A random dude. A dad. But he is a good dad. Man him cradling baby Rose at the end of RE8 plus saving her in the DLC made me cry so much (first part more but man would it have been very emotionally effective if both came out at the same time)

Oh my fucking god, yes. I was exposed to things a bit backwards because I saw SoR before I watched the ending of RE8. Even knowing what would happen, it completely broke me. Ethan’s voice throughout the entire thing as he struggled to keep going just a little longer and the "Goodbye, Rosemary” just akgjhajf. ;__;

They did such a fantastic job with him - Ethan is my absolute favorite now Rose in second and it absolutely cracks me up that all it took to wreck everyone’s shit was one very upset father-daughter duo (and how it kept going even beyond the grave.) Miranda really messed with the wrong people. I seriously wish RE7 could have given him the same depth and didn’t just have him as a placeholder for the player.

Knowing what I know about his personality now, I can fill in the gaps on how he would have reacted to things like, idk, killing his wife repeatedly, but his character really could have used some love back then. :( I don’t think people would have thought he was boring if he had been given the same treatment.

But yeah, the DLC really does hit you in the feels with the what ifs of Ethan taking care of Rose. Saw a… comic? Animatic? Not sure which; of Ethan taking care of Rose through her life, being there for her. Man. Really gets you feeling ;_;

;_; It does. Both of them deserve to have a family with unconditional love and support. Though, I absolutely adore how self-confident Rose is by the end of the DLC knowing that her dad is proud of her no matter what.

There’s a little easter egg at the very end of RE8/SoR with Ethan’s character model and I’m really hoping it’s a hint he’ll be back (maybe as just a side character to cheer on his daughter or give her ammunition). Like, ffs, Capcom. They’ve both been through enough, let Ethan stay with his daughter! Though… if this happens, it will still make me sad knowing he missed 16 years of her life. You know that’s going to hurt for him.

[blessedarethebinarybreakers]

[Nsfw?] How the heck does one deal with intense shame and guilt w/r/t sexuality esp if you grew up lgbt in a hardcore repressive household. esp if you want to remain Christian. I'm deeply afraid of disappointing God and going to hell. Like it's such a deep and involuntary fear which produces so much anxiety within me.

Idk what to do and honestly it's killing me

cw: shame & guilt, fear of hell

Dear anon, I am so sorry that you are going through this pain. Your body and sexuality are gifts from the God who created us as embodied beings and called us good. I am so sorry human beings have taken those gifts and twisted them, made you feel shame and guilt around them. You are absolutely not alone in this struggle.

The fear of hell is also one that so many of us struggle with at some point in our lives. It makes my blood boil that so many Christians turn Jesus's Good News of liberation for all into bad news of torture and punishment for many. The way many churches teach Christianity, the only way they can keep people in the pews is to scare them into staying. But Jesus didn't fearmonger like that; he brought healing and hope and wholeness to those he ministered to.

__

Ultimately, my response to you is to encourage you to seek professionals who can support you far better than I can. If at all possible, I highly recommend finding a counselor or therapist who specializes in helping people with sexual trauma or who are recovering from anti-sex sentiments, anti-LGBT rhetoric, etc.

Make sure that anyone you decide to try out is in favor of undoing purity-culture-type shame and guilt around sexuality, rather than reinforcing it. If you need help finding someone who seems like a good fit for you, please feel free to private message me with your general location and I can try to search for you; or send me the websites of anyone you find and I can see if they're on the anti-shame side of things.

So yeah, I want that disclaimer out there that the best things for you are more long-term support than I can offer, as well as the simple passage of time. Still, I do have a few things that may help guide you as you go; I'll share them below.

__

I have a post here responding to someone else who struggles to let go of the fear that God will send them to hell for being gay & trans. They're Catholic, which may or may not be your own background, but even if the Catholic stuff doesn't fit your situation, most of the stuff in my reply can fit a more general Christian background.

One thing I emphasize in that post is that heaven is a gift given freely by the God who loves us. That means that even if it turned out that people like me who believe wholeheartedly that God affirms LGBTQA+ identities were wrong, God's response to our mistake would not be to fling us to hell — God would enfold us in Their love. As I write in that post,

Heaven isn’t a reward for getting the best grade on a theology test: heaven is a gift from God to us, pure and simple. That can be hard to digest, but it’s the core of Jesus’s message: we don’t earn salvation; it’s given freely and joyfully to us by the God who longs to be with us forever. There is nothing you can be or do to cancel out that gift.

I end that post with links to further discussions on hell, including the suggestion that hell may not be real at all — or if it is, it's not a place packed with souls being punished for all time. God's justice is not human justice; it's not punitive and vengeful like that.

I say all that while also emphasizing that I do firmly believe that God intends and affirms a diversity of sexuality, gender, and so on. God is not disappointed in you for being your beautiful self! Jesus came to liberate us to live fully into those unique selves.

My #affirmation tag is full of stuff on that topic;

and my #rebuttals tag responds to common arguments made against LGBTQA+ persons.

__

For more on sexuality:

This post responds to someone who grew up steeped in purity culture and felt "defiled" after having sex. I respond with assurance that human beings cannot be "damaged goods"; information about how sexuality is depicted in the Bible; and an example of a faithful sexual ethic that makes room for far more sex than just "between one cis man and one cis woman who are married."

Other resources that might help you as you work through your fears and shame:

I really love this "blessing for our bodies" by Nadia Bolz-Weber. .

For a longer work by the same author, check out Shameless: A Sexual Reformation. If you can't buy the book, it's available in many libraries; it's also available as an audiobook. If you're looking for a book-length exploration of how much of Christianity has used shame around sex to oppress and control various marginalized groups, and how God has a better way, this is my top recommendation. .

Bad Theology Kills by Kevin Garcia is another great book that unpacks the bad fruits of shame and good fruits of affirmation. .

Queer Theology puts out online resources on the topic of sex. Click here for their full webpage of resources.

Or click here for their article "What to Do with Shame, Sex, and Jesus." .

Finally, my FAQ has a section of links to posts about "guilt and fear around sex," including questions about pre-marital sex & masturbation.

__

Sending you love, anon. May the God who made you as you are and delights in you ease your fears and guide you towards the people and places that can help you find peace and joy. <3

If anyone else has resources or encouragement for anon, please share.

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 8 - 5+1 / 3+1

You're in my sickbay again...

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x GN!Reader

Fandom: Star Trek (I was writing it as AOS but pretty sure it works for TOS as well if that's your jam)

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Mentions of torture, mention of injuries

AN: Day 8 of @tropetember. Not a massively in depth fic, more like snapshots of situations that occur through the relationship.

3 times Dr McCoy didn't want to see you in his medbay and 1 time he did

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.3k

1

While you hadn’t been expecting to be beamed directly into the quarantine suite in the Medbay of the USS Enterprise, after three months working with Captain James T for Trouble Kirk, it wasn’t totally surprising either.

Kirk had been invited to a celebration feast in a system you were exploring, but had only been allowed to bring one guest. As Chief Security Officer or CSO, you had been volunteered for the position.

You had done everything you could to keep the Captain away from anything questionable. Sadly, conversations with him usually went something along the lines of:

“Jim, no”

“Jim, yes”.

It was something you regularly discussed in your sessions with the ship's newly appointed counsellor.

Since quarantine procedures were only instigated when the transporter detected an anomaly in the crew members being transported, and assuming it was due to Jim, you just sigh to yourself and shake your head.

“I told you to watch him closely!”

The southern drawl didn’t soften the accusation, even deadened as it was by the plexiglass divider that separated Quarantine from the rest of the medbay.

“I did! I don’t understa…”

You trail off as you have a sudden realisation and groan.

“I found him with his tongue down the Princess’s throat.”

Dr McCoy gives a long suffering sigh.

“I’ll have to run tests on both of you. The transporter team couldn’t definitively tell if you both have it.” He pauses and looks you up and down. “I expected better of you Lieutenant Commander”

“Yeah, cos you’re so much better at this than I am. It was Orion herpes last time, wasn’t it?”

The CMO just smirks and tells you to stop pointing fingers before sauntering off towards the storage cupboard. You respond by flipping him off. And you maybe watch his ass a little.

Turning to the Captain, who has been uncharacteristically silent until this point, you channel your inner McCoy.

“Goddamnit Jim!”

Jim decides that you and Bones are spending too much time together.

2

When Scotty had called to warn Dr McCoy of an incoming victim of an explosion in engineering, he had not expected it to be you.

“You’re in my sickbay again sweetheart.”

He uses a sing-song tone that he doesn’t employ with the rest of the crew. Nurse Chapel, who is at the other side of the bed, takes note to check in with the Captain as to the state of the betting pool. She believes she may have lost.

You nod in response to the doctor’s enquiry. You’re in far too much pain to think of anything more complex than that in response.

“What were you even doing in Engineering?” he grumbles to himself, moving around in the space to grab hypos, bandages, burn salve and a dermal regenerator. “You’re almost as bad as Jim and Spock.”

You try to focus on him but you’re struggling to stay conscious. It’s not aided by the painkillers he dumps into your system.

McCoy gently moves you to be laying on the bed. He’s concerned at the extent of the damage done and the nerve trauma to your arm. To ease your pain, he hits you with a sedative and you’re out like a light.

-------

You groan as you come back to consciousness, the light of the medbay hurting your eyes.

“Welcome back darlin’” you hear.

Smiling despite yourself, you squint in Leonard’s direction.

“I was helping with the repairs on the lower decks. I assumed it was safer than an away mission. Apparently I was wrong.”

Surprised laughter bubbles from the grumpy doctor as he agrees.

“Well, get yourself rested up. I’m serious this time. I don’t want to see you back in my medbay.”

“Sure” you agree, both of you knowing it won’t last for long. Occupational hazard. “Dinner and a movie on Saturday if the mean Doctor lets me go?”

3

It made a change for a mission to go wrong due to something Spock did but in a culture that valued feelings as much more important than logic, it was not that surprising.

Most of the crew had made a successful escape but yourself and Dr McCoy had been taken hostage during the initial skirmish. You’d been thrown in a cell together and that had been that.

Or at least, so you’d thought.

You’d been dragged from the cell, questioned and beaten in front of McCoy in an attempt to find out details of the Enterprise and it’s crew. You hadn’t broken, but by the time you’d been rescued, you definitely had at least a couple of broken ribs, a black eye and various assorted cuts and bruises.

Len was quiet as he helped to repair your injuries. Where you were black and blue, his torture had been psychological. He couldn’t get your screams out of your head.

Noticing his distracted state you grasps his jaw gently, disguising the wince it bring when it pulls a little, and raise his eyes to yours.

“This isn’t your fault.”

His eyes dart away but you stay firm.

“I am trained for this, Len. I’d do it again to protect you. But you’re going to need to let the guilt go.”

He sighs heavily.

“I’ll try.” He pauses to run the regen unit over your upper arm. “You’ll need to do me a favour though.”

“Anything.”

“Go on a date with me?”

Mr Spock had been on his way to apologise for the consequences of his actions but is distracted by the fact that he has won the betting pool. He better inform the Captain and come back later.

1

You’re still not sure how it happened. As CSO, your main responsibility was the Captain and when things went wrong, his safety was paramount. You couldn’t check on everyone else. You just had to trust that your team was doing their job.

You hadn’t even realised Len had been hit until you landed on the transporter pad.

There had been so much blood.

Now, you were pacing outside the OR. It had been hours since the beam out when finally M’Benga pops his head out.

“He’ll be ok. He won’t be working for a few weeks but he’ll be ok.”

Your knees give out from under you and you land heavily on the chair behind you. Tears of relief escape without your permission and you drop your head into your hands.

M’Benga gives your shoulder a squeeze, letting you know where Len is being moved to and giving you permission to stay with him, before heading off to finish cleaning himself up.

You take a deep breath and approach Len’s bed. His larger than life presence is softened in sleep and you can’t help but notice how fragile he looks.

Taking his hand, you place a kiss on his knuckles and then rest your head against the mattress. After nearly 36hrs awake, you’re out like a light

-----

You wake to the feeling of fingers running through your hair which you automatically nuzzle into. It’s nice. Comforting.

It takes longer than you’d ever admit to orient yourself, but when you do, you raise yourself and meet Len’s eyes. He has a soft smile on his face that you can’t help but mirror.

“Sorry for dropping in, I know you didn’t want to see me in your medbay.” It’s a cheeky comment but it widens his smile into a grin. You pat yourself on the back for lightening the atmosphere.

“I’ll let you off this time.” His voice is a bit scratchy from lack of use but it sounds like the finest music to your ears. How could you have been so close to never hearing it again? He continues, “care to join me for dinner? I’m afraid there’s only jello.”

You laugh at the silly grump of a man in the hospital bed. Your best friend. Your favourite person. The love of your life.

“I’d love to.”

[qslovebot]

Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

[aftgficrec]

Thanks for doing this kind of stuff! I was wondering if you guys had any fics that dealt with the aftermath of drake, either directly after the dinner incident or more of a recovery type of thing. In general I just really like reading about Andrew centric hurt/comfort or angst stuff so if you can’t find anything specifically regarding drake/the dinner I’d also be down anything in that ballpark. I don’t have a word limit or anything. Again! Thank you sooooooo much for this

Andrew’s abuse at the hands of Drake and others is at the heart of his struggles with mental health issues, and there is a lot of hurt/comfort written for him with varying degrees of angst, trauma, violence, and personal violation on the hurt side of the equation. We try to guide through this minefield with detailed trigger warnings, and we sometimes upgrade fic ratings if warranted. If you see something G or T rated, please be aware it may still carry heavy themes. - A

previous recs:

contains bulk of previous asks: Andrew bad day comforted by Neil/Foxes here

Thanksgiving pov Andrew or Kevin here

Andrew dealing with past sexual assault here

Andrew sees Cass post canon here

Neil kills Drake 1 here 2 here

Andrew + self harm here

Andrew’s childhood before Neil here

Neil helps Andrew overcome insecurity here

angst w/comfort Andreil/Nerik here

people being protective of Andrew here

Foxes react to Andrew’s past here

Andrew or Jean’s mental health here

Andrew + therapy here

Bee & Andrew’s relationship here

‘right side of rock bottom’ here

‘No Hope in Solitude’ here

‘Haunted’ here

‘Sometimes I’m (not) Alone’ here

‘until i see the light’ here

‘I'm No Good Tonight’ here

‘The Words that Cut’ here, now with fanart by @ajaxcos on twitter

‘Baby, Don't Tread’ and ‘Speaking In Silences’ here

‘tealights in the dark’ here

‘When love takes you home and says you belong here…’ here

‘Serendipity’ here

‘never fallen (from quite this high)’ here

‘on tenderness; a guide to taking better care of yourself’ here

‘copper sea turtles’ and ‘Andrew Needs a Break’ here

‘I Know You From A Nightmare’ and ‘The Marks We Make’ here

‘like someone you've chosen’ here

‘Something Better’ and ‘If you must’ here

‘it's all semantics, isn't it,’ ‘by my side when i fall asleep,’ and ‘on quietness and the refuge found within it’ here

‘Even the Darkest Night Will End and the Sun Will Rise’ here

‘Sleeping with ghosts’ here

‘monster (under my bed)’ here

‘If I Don't Keep Up My Light’ here

‘claw marks’ here

‘Neon Lights’ series here

‘Two Roads Diverged’ here

‘Not the Final Dance’ here

Hail Mary by JuiceGremlin [Rated M, 3493 Words, Complete, 2021]

Part 2 of Journey to Feeling (Andreil) series

They amble along the highway for what could be any amount of time. Neil reaches over to turn on the radio at some point, leaving it tuned in to Andrew’s usual station. He tries to focus on the faint beat of the music and not the way Neil is looking at him from the passenger seat, trying however successfully to read Andrew’s mind. These days, he might actually be good at it.

It’s an unsettling thought. It shouldn’t be. After all, isn’t that what Andrew has always wanted? To be known? Understood? Believed? Isn’t that why he spent countless parts of himself to belong to families that never really saw him?

Neil is here. Neil sees him.

So why does Andrew feel scraped raw?

tw: implied/referenced rape/non-con, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced self-harm, tw: nightmares, tw: ptsd

Fall Apart In My Arms by Fuzzzzzz [Rated M, 13130 words, Complete, 2021]

He thought about what he could do or say that would make things a little easier for Andrew to deal with, without Neil next to him. “Can we go sit out on the balcony?”

“We?” Andrew asked, confused.

“Yeah. You go sit in yours, I’ll go sit in mine." Neil took a small sip of his drink. "Tell me about the stars.”

*

Or, where Andrew has a nightmare and Neil flies down to surprise him. Featuring a blue hoodie, bubble baths, discussions about stars (and baking shows) and a pair of adorable cats. Oh, there's a sprinkling of Exy in there too!

tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: urge to self harm

do i hold the answers (should i find them in the silence?) by cake_lovin_ace [Rated T, 9458 words, incomplete, last updated Aug 2021]

Part 4 of light a spark and let it burn (keep the flame alive) (parts 1-3 recced here)

….a story about andrew's inner journey as he struggles to reconcile with his wounded inner child.

tw: ptsd, tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: vomit, tw: depression, tw: mental breakdown

no one wants to know whats in his head (it should be enough) by alwaysayes [Rated M, 1283 Words, Complete, 2017]

“I don’t want to be alone this time.” Andrew’s voice broke on the last two words as he fought back the tears that were threatening to spill. He bit his lip.

“Oh,” Neil said. Andrew nodded. Andrew’s shoulders were shaking with silent sobs because someone was actually staying with him for the first time in his life.

The Consequences of Falling by imagined_melody [Rated G, 1048 Words, Complete, AFTG Valentine’s Exchange 2017]

Andrew thinks about falling, and the things that keep his feet on the ground.

tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: depression

Silent Gestures by illusionistweiss [Rated G, 1605 Words, Complete, 2020]

Part 3 of the Recovery series; find Part 2 ‘A Firm Reminder’ here

In which Andrew has a rough night and Kevin and Neil let him know he's safe with them.

tw: ptsd

I wanna come home (to you) by aceofreaders (Kickasscookieeater) [Not Rated, 2116 Words, Complete, 2018, Locked]

Andrew Minyard used to live in California.

In South Carolina.

In Boston.

Always so lonely.

Andrew Minyard lives in Denver. In Colorado. And he does not live alone.

Just hold me by xSmallTownGirlx [Rated G, 2266 words, complete, 2018]

Neil had seen quite a few of Andrew's bad days over the years they spent together but there hasn't been one this bad in a long while. Andrew wouldn't move, he wouldn't speak. He'd just lay there in their bed, on his side and do nothing. He was wandering in his mind, lost in bad memories and hurtful pasts.

(Andrew has a very bad day and Neil just wants to help him. Hot Chocolate, Ice Cream, cuddles and talking about feeling involved.)

tw: depression

I learned from my pain by aceofreaders (Kickasscookieeater) [Not Rated, 3095 Words, Complete, 2019, Locked]

When love is bleeding, and love is pain, you learn not to bother with it at all. You learn to sacrifice instead. You learn to close your eyes and wait until it's over.

But then.

One day when you're all grown up, you start to relearn. And it's strange and new and you don't understand it.

But it's Valentine's Day and even though Andrew Minyard doesn't want to relearn love, it's happening anyway.

tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: alcohol, tw: referenced conversion camp

Hazes by orphan_account [Rated E, 5553 Words, Incomplete, Last Updated 2016]

Their entire relationship could be viewed through a series of hazes - ranging from the sweetest of affections, to the deadliest of diseases - that broke down their carefully constructed defense mechanisms. When Neil felt the need to run, Andrew always grounded him to a home. When Andrew felt the need to self-destruct, Neil always gave him a reason not to.

For that, Neil will take on their difficulties any day.

tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: nightmares

breathe by carminesunset [Rated G, 724 Words, Complete, 2018]

neil wakes up bc andrew is having a nightmare and whispering ‘please’ in his sleep

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: nightmares

Rain isn’t a friend by Rennie_5 [Rated T, 216 Words, Complete, 2020]

Andrew’s memories resurface in the middle of the night and Neil helps without knowing

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

The first Thanksgiving after the disaster that was Colombia by @i-want-delfeur [Tumblr, 2017]

OK so the first Thanksgiving after Colombia is utter chaos. The Foxes are all there, plus the freshmen. And come on, the thing with Drake was highly publicised, so the freshmen all know just how important / horrific Thanksgiving and the weeekend before it are for the Foxes. This is what happens…

Andrew and invasive interviews by @crows-and-crumbs [Tumblr, 2021]

Tw: Andrew’s Past and all that entails

So the Drake case was part of a media frenzy, even though they weren’t let into the court they must have known some of the details however vague

it’s currently time to make my comfort characters suffer along with me by @one-black-coffeee [Tumblr, 2021]

- Andrew locked that word away long ago. a hastily designed cage to muffle the resounding trauma. he tightened the bolts until all that was left was ringing silence

NB: Referenced in the post, we recced ‘Of Monsters and Pain’ here

[toosicktoocare]

ya’ll ever dissect a brief two-second clip in a trailer for a season of a show that hasn’t come out yet and concoct a small story around it that turns into an almost 2k-word fic at almost 2 am in the morning? no? just me? 

anyway, i’m obviously hung up on that brief clip in the 911 season 5 trailer where Eddie falls. Is he panicking? Maybe, and that’s definitely what I wrote about. though, halfway through writing, when I was just watching a gif set for the clip, i had a thought that maybe he was poisoned instead. but, well, I was in too deep by that point. 

Trigger Warning for Panic Attacks. 

There’s panic, Eddie thinks, when he’s on the job. Panic that strikes a chord against the adrenaline thumping in his blood. Panic that drives his muscles and activates the sheer need to act and save in his mind.

This, Eddie thinks, is not that type of panic.

This is the panic that pools at the bottom of his stomach, always there and always waiting to accumulate, to feed on his fears, to expand upward. This is the panic that slides past his rib cage in the background until it’s snaking around his lungs, constricting slowly until he suddenly can’t suck in a deep breath and thus panics harder.

This is the panic that chips away at his brain, replacing the known with the biting edge of the unknown. Burning away the calm and revealing the trauma that’s been tucked away. This panic nips at his heart and eats at his nerves until he succumbs to it, the icy trace of its presence bringing with it a cold sweat that slips down Eddie’s temples.

He tugs at his collar, his pulse pounding hard against his neck, but it’s not enough. His breath is trapped, unable to sneak past the panic molding over his lungs. His hand falls to his side limply, and for a moment, he stares at the ground, his vision swimming, the faint background sounds becoming lost to the roar of his heart.

He doesn’t realize he’s falling until his back hits the ground, the air trapped in his lungs pushing out with a low wheeze. The pain that erupts along his back is numbed under the weight of bottled memories, of the gun shot that ripped through his arm, of the blood painting his world in a thick, deep red that drowns him.  

“Eddie? I heard something fall.”

He’s no longer on the floor, instead lost in a hazy limbo, what he fears most unfolding before him. He’s gone, and Christopher is grieving. His son is shutting everyone out, his voice muted under the pain. The 118, once a solid foundation, cracks, and Buck? Buck screams his voice raw. Buck punches at a brick wall, over and over until his knuckles tear and bleed. He swings when Bobby tries to stop him, and then he crumbles.

“Edmundo!”

As quickly as it comes, it’s gone, and Eddie gasps, the single breath a mountain to climb over. He’s at Ana’s. It’s their date night, and she was finding a pair of earrings she received as a birthday gift a few years back. They were set to leave for their dinner reservation in just a few minutes.

His shirt is damp against his skin, and he trembles the entire way to his feet, each muscle wobblier than the last.

“Edmundo, what happened? Are you ill?”

Ana’s frantic at his side, and she palms at his forehead, the worry across her face evident even through his fuzzy vision. He shakes his head, and she pulls her hand away, lips pointed downward.

“You’re ice cold,” she worries, one hand sliding down his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head again, unable to speak around what little breaths he’s able to take in. He’s on autopilot when he’s helped over to Ana’s couch, and he fades in and out of the present, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he struggles to recapture his breathing. His hands are fists at his knees, and he hunches over, curling in on himself, shielding himself.

He stays this way until a hand tugs lightly at his wrist and a voice calls out his name gently. He’s slow to lift his gaze, but when he does, Buck crowds his vision, blue eyes impossibly worried before him.

“Buck?” He croaks out, and Buck nods sharply, his fingers pressing to the inside of Eddie’s wrist.

“It’s me,” Buck reassures calmly. “I’m going to check your pulse, okay? Keep your eyes on mine.”

Eddie can only nod, the lump in his throat keeping his words from him. He trains his gaze to Buck’s. He knows Buck is counting silently to himself, and yet, Buck’s gaze doesn’t waver; his concentration doesn’t fold in the slightest. His eyes are sharp, focused, and after sixty seconds, his face relaxes a fraction, and Eddie’s lungs deflate with a low sigh.

“You’re okay,” Buck whispers, leaning forward until his forehead knocks lightly against Eddie’s, warm compared to his Eddie’s clammy one. His hand finds the side of Eddie’s neck, cups it gently, and Eddie holds the position, pulling all his focus toward the weight of Buck’s hand, the heat spreading across his forehead and down to his cheeks, his neck, stopping at his heart.

“I’m okay,” he finally repeats, voice low, cracking slightly, and only then does Buck pull away, frowning.

“Ana called.” Buck keeps his voice quiet, just a breath above a whisper. “She said she found you on the floor.” He opens his mouth, prepared to press further, but Eddie shakes his head sharply.

“Not here. Where’s Chris?”

“Kitchen with Ana.” Buck rises to his feet and steps away from Eddie’s view. “Sorry, I didn’t want to leave him—”

“—It’s fine,” Eddie mutters, his ears perking up to hear Christopher and Ana talking nearby. Christopher giggles quietly, and the furrow of Eddie’s brow smooths over slightly. “I need to postpone our date,” he adds, more to himself, and Buck extends a steady hand to help him off the couch.

“I’ll get Chris settled back in the jeep. Will you be okay to drive your truck back, or should I arrange to get it for you later?”

“I can drive,” Eddie mumbles weakly, and then Buck crowds his vision again, worry painted down every inch of his face.

“Try that again. If I still don’t believe it, I’m taking your keys.”

Eddie sucks in a deep breath. His chest still hurts, the panic still a nagging sheet of ice burrowed deep in the base of his stomach, but he’s able to hold air in his lungs until he exhales slowly, the line of tension across his shoulders breaking.

“I can drive.” He repeats, stronger, and Buck nods, his own body relaxing.

“I’ll see you back at your house, then. Be careful.” Buck turns on his heel, a smile playing across his lips as he rounds into the kitchen with Eddie close behind him.

“Chris! Do you want to put the band-aid on your dad’s arm?” Buck turns to lean in close to Eddie, whispering, “I told him you fell and hurt your arm.”

Eddie mouths ‘thank you’ at the same time Christopher shouts, “Yeah!”

Eddie plants a smile across his lips, forced against the lingering, nagging edge of panic, and he rolls up a single jacket sleeve halfway up his arm. He crouches down, points to an unmarked spot on his arm, and Chris carefully, almost delicately, spreads a Superman band-aid across his arm.

“All better?” Chris asks, and Eddie nods as he gets to his feet. He ruffles Christopher’s hair, his own smile warming across his lips.

“All better,” he repeats. “Thanks, bud. You okay to go back to the house with Buck? I’ll meet you there?”

“Yep!”

Christopher offers multiple goodbyes before he and Buck slip out the door, leaving Eddie to work around just how exactly to explain to Ana that he’s not sure he can do this right now, that he’s succumbing to the issues he’s been too stubborn to recognize over the last couple of months. That he would be miserable company for he’s too wrapped up in a gut-wrenching fear that bears its fangs when he least expects it.

“It’s okay, Eddie.”

Her voice is impossibly soft beside him, soft but classically genuine, and he turns toward her, frowning.

“Ana, I’m so sorr—”

“—Don’t,” Ana interrupts, stepping toward him and brushing a feather-light kiss to his cheek. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Her breath is warm against his skin, her voice delicate, her words knowing where to step and where to tread gently. When she pulls away, Eddie almost feels guilty at the relief, at the weight that drops from his shoulders.

“Talk soon?” He asks, and she nods, a small smile tight at her lips.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” he tells her, and he means it. Every inch of him means it.

---

When Eddie pulls into his driveway, he turns off his truck, but he doesn’t rush to get out, instead sinking against the exhaustion that’s been creeping over him his entire drive home. He’s drained, emotionally and physically, and he tips his head back, his eyes fluttering shut. He doesn’t look when his car door opens at his side; he only sighs.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi.”

Buck’s being careful, Eddie thinks. He can tell by the way Buck’s tone almost tips up into a question, just not quite reaching that pitch. He’s leaving an opening for Eddie, and Eddie takes it. His eyes flutter open, and he rolls his head toward Buck.

“I’ve got some issues,” he says, and the laugh Buck lets out is nervous, worried.

“You don’t say.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” Eddie admits, twisting around until his legs are hanging out of the door. “Tonight was a lot.” He can see Buck taking in his words, dissecting them in a way he does best.

“You look exhausted. Do you want me to go—”

“—No!”

Buck’s jaw snaps shut at the force of Eddie’s single shout, and Eddie slides out of the car, slumping forward, his forehead dropping against Buck’s shoulder. “Sorry. No, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to be alone right now. My thoughts are—”

“—dark?” Buck finishes, his hand slipping to the small of Eddie’s back. “Not you,” he continues. “Scary?”

“All of the above,” Eddie mutters, and Buck’s hand presses against his back, pushing until Eddie’s flush against his chest. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s back, and Eddie returns the hug, melting against him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Buck whispers. “I’m going to be here, and I’m going to help you.”

Though Eddie knows Buck would quite literally bend over backwards for him, the ease of Buck’s tone, the determination laced within Buck’s words, cracks the icy panic that’s nestled in his stomach. It surprises Eddie still—just how much Buck is willing to be there for him no matter what.

“Thank you,” he mutters, and for the second time in a single night, every entire inch of his being means it.

[f0xwrite]

Snippet of upcoming work...

A small piece of something I've been working on for about a year now. Will likely convert it to past tense depending on how I feel. Rated T. Mentions of trauma and PTSD. I think we all could have used a moment more reminiscent of this in the movie--I feel like Jim would have struggled more with trying to become a normal, adjusted human again than trying to convince himself that he is still the Trollhunter without the amulet.

“No!” Walter is panting when he calls out and jumps to the edge of the bed, wings jutting out and nearly knocking over an unlit table lamp. Shaking his head, his clawed hands curl around his temples, trying to shake the strobe lights from his mind. There’s too much. A thousand atrocities from a thousand lifetimes—and now he’s projecting into the future. With a soft huff he leans against the mattress, ignoring its squeaks of protest (too much like the screams of the innocent) then slowly props himself up to a standing position. Yellow eyes flicker to the clock. It’s 8:30 at night, and Barbara is still at work.

Thank the stars. She has enough on her plate.

A small knock on the door catches his ears, and he starts.

The door creaks open a little. “Hey, you ok?” A boys soft voice floats through the slit.

Ah, right.

“Young Atlas,” he clears his throat, voice gruff with fatigue. “ I keep forgetting you are here. “

“Yeah?” The door opens further, and the hall light floods into the room, clashing with Walter’s own inner glow. “Well, It’s only been two days. I still can’t believe it myself. Getting used to being up during the daylight again is hard.”

The changeling offers a knowing nod, and straitens the ties of his loincloth.“I’ve been there. Give it a few weeks. You’ll adapt.”

A brief moment finds the two staring at each other through the warm but awkward silence. Jim’s studying him, he realizes. It’s the same look his mother gets when she’s trying to assess a wound.

“You had a flashback, didn’t you?” The boy cuts right to the point.

“Er-” Walter falters, pausing long enough to switch the lamplight on--more for the boy than for himself—before scratching at the side of his neck. “Yes Jim, but you needn’t worry.”

“I’m getting them, too.”

A cold pang runs through him at the words. “I see. How long have you experiencing this?”

“For a while, really. Pretty much ever since Drall tried to kill me, but it wasn’t all that bad, nothing I couldn’t bear until...until…”

“Until you were corrupted,” Walter finishes the sentence for him, heart wrenching when he looks to see that the boys eyes are watering, half-formed tears glistening in the ochre light of his eyes.

It’s then that the shrill cry of a baby touches his ears, and his horned head turns towards Jim’s old bedroom. “I’d better attend to that.”

“Oh, sure,” Jim coughs and rubs an eye against his sleeve. “We’ll talk some other time.”

“Hold on,” Walter’s deep voice booms just as Jim starts to turn around, stopping the boy in his tracks. “Why don’t you run downstairs and set the kettle going? I’ll be down in a few moments.”

“Yeah, cool, okay,” the Trollhunter scratches the back of his head, then points in the direction of the staircase. “I’ll do that. Need me to mix up some formula, too?”

“That would be excellent, Young Atlas, thank you.” The changeling says, smiling as the boy bounds down the staircase. Setting his pace towards the anxious crying, Walter pauses when his clawed hand wraps around the handle of Jim’s former bedroom. The line around his tusks shifts into a frown...

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

Okay so I saw the Emily episodes last night and now I’m just sitting here having a Sad over it. Like, I’d been previously aware that an Emily existed, but unaware as to how things actually went down, so more of a surprise than I’d expected.

I loved the fact that—we’ve seen Mulder be super protective over his sister, but this time we get to see that protectiveness being expanded to another little girl. He really cares about keeping kids safe, doesn’t he?

The part where he’s not sure what he believes anymore 😭 (can’t remember if that was from these episodes or not though)

A little surprised he wouldn’t give Scully a heads-up about what he was about to tell the judge regarding her infertility, seeing as she didn’t already know it. So glad she didn’t get really mad at him. He hasn’t told her a lot of things though, including about what he found in the office during this arc. What’s your thoughts about M trying to protect S by keeping things from her?

I loved that she called him in for backup. She’s facing little to no support on all fronts, and then one phone call brings him unquestioningly in.

But poor Scully, fighting a losing battle all the way down to the end—this whole storyline just radiates loss.

oh the Emily arc... all my feels. sorry for taking a few days to get to this, it's been a loooong weekend for me lol and I haven't gotten much sleep.

I didn't expect those episodes to hit me as hard or stick with me as much as they did, but here I am, trawling AO3 and Tumblr for every fic I can find lol...

dude yes that connection between Emily and Samantha... Mulder already projects onto children so often on cases, because of his own childhood trauma, and Emily is just this lost little girl who needs protected, who's a part of the conspiracy out of her or anyone else's control — and she's Scully's, too — and it's kinda like... of COURSE he was going to absolutely adore her. of COURSE he would bend heaven and earth for Scully's lost little girl. the part where he goes after that doctor and shoves him up against the bookshelf and yells and threatens him is just ahsjdjsksk he is SO protective 😭

(also the fact that textually, IN CANON, IN AS MANY WORDS, they outright stated what happened as medical rape... the one and only time Chris Carter was self-aware....)

ok so re: Mulder not telling Scully about her stolen ova — I think a lot of this comes down to him being Really Bad At Talking About Things (TM). he doesn't want to add that knowledge to everything she's already struggling with during the cancer arc, and, if I have it correct (pretty big "if" tbh), the Reduxes happen shortly prior to Thanksgiving — which means that at the point of the Emily episodes it hasn't been all that long, maybe a month and a half, since her cancer went into remission. so I just kinda feel like he never had an opportunity that felt like it would be the right time — knowing how awkward he can be, idk when/if he *would* have told her without the circumstances of CC/Emily tbh. they can talk about so much stuff all the time but when it comes to serious things, they both s t r u g g l e. and, like you said, in a way he was trying to protect her from more pain — especially since she was also fighting cancer.

and yeah!! she really can't think of anywhere else she wants to turn, anyone else she can depend on the way she can trust Mulder — and of course, he's there for her in heartbeat. no hesitation, they're there for each other no matter what, no questions asked. the way he supports her in these eps always gets to me, he's struggling so much both bc he hid the fact of her infertility from her and because he, as always, blames himself for everything that happens to her and by extension Emily, but he's there at her shoulder at the hospital and doing everything he possibly can for her and her little girl. it's heartbreaking honestly, especially when the doctor asks if they're the parents and they look at each other (and uh... please note that they Don't deny it....) and Mulder ducks his head like he thinks he's undeserving even of that assumption. but the fact of the matter is that he DOES often, as i saw a now-deactivated user point out once, take on quite a bit of the responsibility that a husband would for Scully — even so far as being the one to go with her mom to choose a hecking gravestone when they think she's dead, and being the one to call and tell her mom she has cancer. I know I joke a lot about Mulder being husband material, but... for real. and in the context of the Emily arc, that HURTS.

poor Scully indeed... she's constantly put through more trauma, more loss, more grief, and she carries it with so much grace most of the time, but she doesn't deserve any of it. neither does poor sweet Emily, for that matter... honestly the Scully girls all just deserve so much better (including Melissa... my beloved.... I miss her every day...).

[karliahs]

It’s been months since he was this close to anyone. It might have even been Jon the last time, too; helping him walk down in the tunnels. How did they get from there to here? How-

“Tim?” Jon asks softly, pulling back to look him in the face, and it’s the loss of that warmth and pressure that makes Tim realise he’s started breathing in great, shuddering gasps. He screws his eyes shut and Jon reverses their positions, pulling Tim into his chest with unpracticed but fervent hands. His T-shirt is soft against Tim’s face; he hadn’t thought Jon would own anything so soft.

Tim’s throat is burning, but as long as he keeps his eyes screwed shut then he isn’t crying. He isn’t crying on Jonathan Sims the night before they both-

“It’s alright, Tim,” Jon says, searching for words of comfort he only half believes himself. “It’s - whatever happens tomorrow, it can’t - we’re safe here.”

Tim laughs bitterly. “Nothing’s fucking safe.”

Jon seems unable to decide between rubbing soothingly at his back and just holding on as tight as he can. Tim shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be giving into this. But there's a reason he lost so much time when he should have been searching for the thing that killed his brother. The Institute was full of potential answers, but it was also full of bright, lovely distractions. He's buried in the arms of one of them.

Tim didn't used to think of that as weakness - but he didn't used to think there were worms that burrowed through your flesh, or creatures that took every true memory of your friend without you ever noticing, or monsters that played with skin, played with the fabric of who you were, because it was fun.

Tim doesn't know fucking anything, and maybe he never did, and now all that's left is to-

"What can I do, Tim?" Jon asks, and he sounds so honestly lost.

"Turn back time," Tim murmurs into his shirt. "Don't let go," he adds a moment later.

“I won’t, I won’t.” Jon clutches him impossibly closer. Tim’s world narrows down into warmth and pressure. “Tim, we don’t - we don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this.”

The gentle vibration of his words is almost enough to distract Tim from the words themselves. He turns his head so he can speak un-muffled, and immediately misses the comfort of being closed in. “I do, Jon. I can’t…” Tim fumbles for the right words, wondering faintly if this is how Jon feels all the time, struggling to give voice to the unspeakable. “The worst thing in all of this, the worst thing would be if they hurt someone again while I’m just standing there."

Still not crying, not as long as his eyes are tight shut. He feels Jon hesitate, then push forward anyway. "Even if...Tim, even if you had moved, what could you have done?"

Tim squeezes hard at Jon's side and isn't sure if he means it as a warning or a plea.

"I'd never have met you," Jon says, so soft Tim isn't sure if he was meant to hear it.

"Was just thinking before,” Tim replies, because he’s fucked up enough that he might as well keep going, “I wish I'd met you somewhere normal."

Jon’s hands still, and for a moment the rise and fall of his chest does too. It’s the closest thing to absolution Tim’s ever offered. He’s glad he can’t see Jon’s face, can’t see whatever shock or gratitude is playing out there. At some point, he made himself into someone who no one expects to be kind. He wonders, vaguely, whether it counts as forgiveness, to want someone to spend what might be their last night on earth forgiven.

from: enemy of my enemy, aka jon and tim sit in various rooms and talk: the fic

thank you for asking!!! here we go:

It’s been months since he was this close to anyone. It might have even been Jon the last time, too; helping him walk down in the tunnels. How did they get from there to here? How-

do you ever just think about how fast things went wrong for the s1 crew...they were friends just a few months ago!! a few weeks in between no current supernatural experiences -> trying to survive supernatural experiences together by physically holding each other up -> complete alienation. some experiences just defy comprehension, emotionally speaking, even when you can see every step that led from there to here

i also like to make myself sad by thinking about the practical day to day aspects of everyone in the archives being alienated from everyone else. like...when were either of them last touched (non-violently)

so much has changed but they've circled back around to each other

“Tim?” Jon asks softly, pulling back to look him in the face, and it’s the loss of that warmth and pressure that makes Tim realise he’s started breathing in great, shuddering gasps. He screws his eyes shut and Jon reverses their positions, pulling Tim into his chest with unpracticed but fervent hands. His T-shirt is soft against Tim’s face; he hadn’t thought Jon would own anything so soft.

'person starts crying without noticing until someone points it out' is a trope i generally try to stay away from partly because i just can't imagine that ever happening to me and therefore it doesn't ping my realism senses, but i get one (1) because it is undeniably juicy

this fic is very zeroed in on tim's perspective in terms of small sensory experiences, for a few reasons - drive home emotions, portray dissociation, and because i like writing about how it actually feels to be in a romantic gesture, to make it more real than just like...an image of people holding each other

small detail that jives with bigger points - jon's shirt unexpectedly soft, jon's surprising ability to still provide him with gentleness and comfort

i think jon here has no idea what to do but has been given permission to touch so is living his best tactile life with this inexpert hugging and is hoping that does something

Tim’s throat is burning, but as long as he keeps his eyes screwed shut then he isn’t crying. He isn’t crying on Jonathan Sims the night before they both-

“It’s alright, Tim,” Jon says, searching for words of comfort he only half believes himself. “It’s - whatever happens tomorrow, it can’t - we’re safe here.”

Tim laughs bitterly. “Nothing’s fucking safe.”

tim spends a lot of this fic having his inner-monologue cut off to try and show as well as tell that he's struggling to stay present

that 'both-' hurts me, honestly. hurts more than it actually being spelled out, i think. write to upset yourself, maybe you will upset others in the process

half is a word i absolutely overuse in writing but cannot stop. no one ever does something all the way, they are half- believing, wondering, worrying, etc.

i'm never 100% sure if i'm accurately capturing the way that jon speaks in canon but i did always like and want to emulate the fact that he speaks kind of hesitantly, trips over his own words, etc

Jon seems unable to decide between rubbing soothingly at his back and just holding on as tight as he can. Tim shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be giving into this. But there's a reason he lost so much time when he should have been searching for the thing that killed his brother. The Institute was full of potential answers, but it was also full of bright, lovely distractions. He's buried in the arms of one of them.

Tim didn't used to think of that as weakness - but he didn't used to think there were worms that burrowed through your flesh, or creatures that took every true memory of your friend without you ever noticing, or monsters that played with skin, played with the fabric of who you were, because it was fun.

again, jon does not know what to do so he is just trying. just trying to do any kind of soothing hand thing

i thought quite a lot about reconciling the seemingly happy-go-lucky tim that gets presented to us early on vs learning why he came to the institute in the first place. tim here is framing that as a failing because he's miserable and traumatised and guilt-ridden, but i think at least part of it was actual healing. he was taking time and enjoying the people around him and trying to make the best of things, until it all went wrong

related, the self-recrimination of tim hating himself for not having seen any of this coming, even though they were not predictable events...very human nature after you have been through something terrible. how dare i have not anticipated every trouble that ever befell me

'played with skin, played with the fabric of who you were' - a lot of this story was me just enjoying the themes of stranger-horror. i love the terror of knowing there are creatures who can change aspects of you that should be unchangeable, physically in skin and otherwise in terms of identity and memory. love applying that to jon and tim, who have been fundamentally changed against their will by trauma and their roles in a story neither of them wanted. skin as metaphor for identity, and learning that people can take away your skin is then utterly terrifying to someone who already feels like his identity is being forcibly eroded. and then that shared terror brings them back together, just a little

Tim doesn't know fucking anything, and maybe he never did, and now all that's left is to-

"What can I do, Tim?" Jon asks, and he sounds so honestly lost.

"Turn back time," Tim murmurs into his shirt. "Don't let go," he adds a moment later.

this fic...is so sad. why did i write this. why am i being attacked by my past self and their awful words on this day

explicit admission that tim wants/needs jon here...even a chapter ago he was like yeah i'm going to america with jon bc i am regrettably relying on him as my reality-anchor, nothing emotional here

“I won’t, I won’t.” Jon clutches him impossibly closer. Tim’s world narrows down into warmth and pressure. “Tim, we don’t - we don’t have to do this. You don’t have to do this.”

The gentle vibration of his words is almost enough to distract Tim from the words themselves. He turns his head so he can speak un-muffled, and immediately misses the comfort of being closed in. “I do, Jon. I can’t…” Tim fumbles for the right words, wondering faintly if this is how Jon feels all the time, struggling to give voice to the unspeakable. “The worst thing in all of this, the worst thing would be if they hurt someone again while I’m just standing there."  

Still not crying, not as long as his eyes are tight shut. He feels Jon hesitate, then push forward anyway. "Even if...Tim, even if you had moved, what could you have done?"

Tim squeezes hard at Jon's side and isn't sure if he means it as a warning or a plea.

warmth, pressure, vibration...continuing to be fascinated by the little tactile details of what it feels like to be close to someone

emotional logic is so powerful. tim moving most likely would have either made no difference to the outcome or worsened it (because both him and danny would have died) but of course for tim standing still while someone he loves was destroyed counts for everything about who he is. sometimes blame feels better than helplessness, which mirrors what happens with his friendship with jon - is it scarier if they are all helpless, or if this one guy is The Enemy

‘give voice to the unspeakable’ sometimes i like poetic descriptions of jon’s role as archivist

"I'd never have met you," Jon says, so soft Tim isn't sure if he was meant to hear it.

"Was just thinking before,” Tim replies, because he’s fucked up enough that he might as well keep going, “I wish I'd met you somewhere normal."

Jon’s hands still, and for a moment the rise and fall of his chest does too. It’s the closest thing to absolution Tim’s ever offered. He’s glad he can’t see Jon’s face, can’t see whatever shock or gratitude is playing out there. At some point, he made himself into someone who no one expects to be kind. He wonders, vaguely, whether it counts as forgiveness, to want someone to spend what might be their last night on earth forgiven.

:(

tim views talking with and connecting to people as fucking up. how much of that is even slightly shrouded in logic and how much is just - tim is depressed and deep in self-loathing, somewhere still at the core of him tim loves people and making connections, so of course doing the thing he wants to do is wrong

‘At some point, he made himself into someone who no one expects to be kind.’ tim has this thought once and then worries at it like a sore tooth because his default state is hopeless fury with himself, with everyone. i also think this demonstrates how new information/realisations often can’t help you out of a bad mental state on its own, because it’s all too easy to slot it into your existing thought patterns. pushing everyone away was making tim worse - he starts to feel like that was a mistake, but it just becomes more self-recrimination

forgiveness is one of those words that seems to encompass so many different concepts that i find it hard to know exactly what it’s meant by saying you forgive someone. specifying what’s meant by this little shard of maybe-forgiveness makes it mean more, at least to me

may i reiterate: :(

[jaeminzie]

worth it | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender nuetral!reader

synopsis: having a turtoring session with fratboy!hyuck that you were bribed into turned into a cuddle session, but he definitely didn’t mind at all

genre: fluffff

word count: 2,123

you rubbed your head in frustration as the memory kept replaying in your head, making you regret your past decision. earlier in the day, lee donghyuck was practically begging you to tutor him for his upcoming exam. you were so set on saying ‘no’ because you very much disliked the guy but he began to wave fifty dollars in your face. and you, a broke college student, completely forgot about all the unfavorable feelings towards the boy and gave in.

but as hours passed by, you began to reconsider if spending time with donghyuck was worth fifty dollars. maybe if it were doubled then you wouldn’t be second-guessing your past decision. you looked at your phone to check the time, just to see if it was too late to back out now. and unfortunately for you, it was.

you let out a loud groan in the middle of the student café lounge area that you and your best friend, renjun, were relaxing in. “nice to see you doing well, y/n.” renjun took a pause from drawing on his sketchbook and looked up smiling mockingly at you to which you didn’t respond to in any way shape or form. the smile dropped and a wave of annoyance took over his facial expressions. “okay, what is it. are you hungry? you should’ve just aske-”

“i’m not always hungry.” you rolled your eyes at him and lowered yourself in your seat. “it’s donghyuck-”

“oh god. then whatever it is, that obnoxiously loud groan was valid.” he groaned with you. renjun never had a good impression on donghyuck because he didn’t brake his car for renjun when he was trying to walk across the pedestrian crosswalk, and donghyuck never said sorry nor look apologetic. instead, he just gave renjun trauma. he’s the reason why renjun always wait ten seconds minimum before crossing the street. although it gets annoying, his lost face before crossing reminds you of a cute kitten which makes up for the long wait. “what did he do this time?”

“he’s paying me to tutor him at his frat.” his face was evident in disgust and empathy. “i’m regretting saying yes because i’m too exhausted to deal with him.” you whined and put your face in your hands, rubbing it harshly in an attempt to wake yourself up.

“y/n, you are so strong.” he grabbed your hand away from your face and rubbed your hand awkwardly as he looked at you with apologetic eyes. “no but seriously, text me when he starts acting up. i’ll have jaemin with me for backup because i mean.” he lifted up his arms and tried to flex his arm muscles. key word: tried. “you know.”

you let out a chuckle, closed your eyes, and let your head fall back. “i’ll definitely be live texting you whenever he says and does something stupid.”

“so basically, what you’re saying is that you’ll be texting me every second. might as well have me on facetime.” 

you looked back at your best friend who was showing a toothy grin. “basically.” you checked your phone again and saw that if you didn’t leave now then you’d be late to the session. “fuck, i gotta get going. please wish me luck.” you lazily got up, got your bag and stood still in front of renjun with a face that was screaming ‘help me.’

“c’mon at least you’re getting paid, right?”

“you’re right, i need to stop being such a child.” you sighed and tried to erase every negative thought and feeling inside of you.

“kick his ass if he acts up though.” he raised an eyebrow at you.

you scoffed, “of course of course.” you sighed once again and pet renjun’s hair as you walked emotionless out of the student café and made your way to the bus stop.

donghyuck’s fraternity was only a couple blocks away and it honestly wouldn’t take long to walk there but you were too tired to even try.

the commute was quick but you wish it wasn’t. there you were, standing outside the door of regret. the outside was fairly clean but you knew that the inside would be a completely different story. you knocked a few times on the white door before a smiling donghyuck greeted you. “oh wow, you actually came.”

you fought back the urge to roll your eyes. “you’re welcome.” you both stood there awkwardly while he stared you down and you tried avoiding eye contact.

“oh sorry, come in.” he turned his body to make way for yours to enter his place. “i made sure we’re alone because it’s usually loud when the others are here. they’ll be back in a couple hours, though.” he scratched his neck and yawned while you examined the place. you were right, the inside was messy but to your surprise, it wasn’t too bad.

“yeah sounds good. it shouldn’t take too long” you turned to face him and gawked at his appearance. okay there’s no denying donghyuck is pretty decent looking, but he looks extra good today. he stood there awkwardly with his hands rested in the pockets of his oversized black jacket. his hair was slightly ruffled up, you can tell he just woke up from a nap. “you really thought i’d flake on you?” you raised an eyebrow.

his eyes wondered your facial features and marks. “i mean, you kinda hate me so.”

“i don’t hate you.” you corrected him. you may have a strong disfavor of him but you don’t hate him.

he smirked, his body seemed to relax a lot more. “then, let’s get started.” he walked past me and lead the way up the spiral staircase and into his room, which was surprisingly clean and well decorated with a tidy computer gaming set at the corner.

you set your bag right by the bed which you sat on. “so specifically, what are you struggling on?” you asked him looking at his figure that was leaned against his dresser a couple feet across from you.

“uh everything?” he let out a shy laugh and crossed his arms in front of him.

you decided not to scold him for always partying because truth is, you don’t know anything that’s going on in his life so you swallowed the upcoming insults that were climbing up your throat. “oh, well, we should get started asap then so we don’t finish too late.” you cleared your throat.

his eyes widened in surprise like he was expecting your usual witty remarks that he secretly loved, but you weren’t aware of his fondness for your attitude. “yeah for sure, let me get my stuff.” he hurriedly gathered his materials and set them on the bed next to me since he didn’t have a desk in his room. well, he did have his computer desk but there was definitely no room for books there.

he climbed on the bed and rested on his stomach and flipped the pages of the textbook, trying to find the first section he needed assistance on.

you kicked off your shoes and laid down next to him, but keeping your distance from him. he smirked slightly while still keeping his focus on the page. “you can scoot closer so you can see the book clearer.” he looked at you with innocent eyes.

in instinct, you rolled your eyes and scooted a bit closer to him. close enough to smell his cologne and close enough to see his moles randomly placed on his face and neck clearly. you took your attention away from his face when he suddenly made eye contact with you, catching you off-guard. 

his warm, soft bedsheets did no help in keeping you awake. you tried to focus on the words he was spitting out but every word entered one ear and went out the other as your eyelids began to feel heavier, and your vision slowly began to black out.

—

“dude what the fuck happened?” an unfamiliar whisper woke you up from your sleep but you ignored it, just trying to go back to your dreamland.

until you felt something absurd, someone’s warm embrace wrapped around you, your head was now resting on a pillow and an arm, and your cheek was rubbing against a wet patch of what you assumed was your drool on a white t-shirt fabric. “bro shut the fuck up, you’re gonna wake y/n up.” now, that was a familiar whisper to you. your heartbeat raced faster and faster as you made the conclusion that you were cuddling with the lee donghyuck. you internally groaned knowing that renjun will never shut up about this once you tell him. this will be his winning comeback for your future arguments. i mean, you could not tell him but what kind of best friend would you be if you didn’t inform him of the time you magically started cuddling with a man you disliked—but still enjoyed it.

“you better tell me everything later.” the whisper was a lot harsher than the first one, then silence followed after the unknown boy closed the door. you assumed he was gone but you waited to lift your head up to make it not obvious that you were awake to listen to their conversation.

“i know you’re awake.” donghyuck laughed above you, his chest rumbled against your cheek. “you stopped snoring a while ago.”

you groaned in annoyance and also in embarrassment. you slowly lifted your head up to look up at him and you were not ready to see the sight of him looking down at you with a soft smile and even messier hair, causing your heart to skip a beat. both your arms were still wrapped around each other, leaving no space between you both. “what the fuck.” you blurted out, not knowing what else to say.

donghyuck’s tired smile widened. “i should be the one asking you that. sweetheart, you’re the one who cuddled up to me first.” he enjoyed watching your face flush red in embarrassment, anger, and also by the way he looked at you so attentively. “you know, its quite rude.” he tightened his grip around you. “i’m supposed to be paying for a tutoring lesson.” he pursed his lips and furrowed his eyebrows, not breaking eye contact with you.

you remained looking at him with shaky eyes, not believing the situation you were in. your mouth opened, then it closed, then it opened to say something but donghyuck cut you off. “but this is so much better, my money well spent.” he sighed contently and closed his eyes, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

you could’ve protested or done anything to get out of his grip but your body stayed the way it is. “i didn’t even get to teach you one lesson, i’m sorry.” you were sincere with your apology, you wasted his time and now he’s probably gonna fail his exam if you two keep cuddling.

“i don’t care about that. i prefer this much more.” his eyes were still closed. you continued to admire his face and tried to memorize every single detail and placement of each mark. “hmmm, why don’t you take a picture?” he hummed, still keeping his eyes closed.

your hands made their way up his ear and pinched it. he let out a whine and finally opened his eyes which immediately landed directly on yours. “quit it.” you warned him.

“as you wish, darling.” his voice became lower and it almost sounded like a whisper. a soft smirk appeared on his face and his eyes were sparkling under the moonlight that shined through his window. “i love talking to you but i think i finally found something i love even more—sleeping with you.”

you opened your mouth to say something but his finger pressed against your lips to keep you quiet. he shushes you softly while he shuffled slightly to find a comfortable position, still keeping his embrace secure around you and his eyelids began to slowly drop. you admired his face once more before closing your eyes as well.

the question you asked yourself earlier today lingered in your mind before drifting off to your sleep again. is spending time with donghyuck worth fifty dollars? considering how warm he felt against you, and how you loved to hear his breathing and soft snores above you, and how perfect your body naturally molded into his embrace. you could finally answer the question confidently, yes.

[starlessskies94]

Consequence (Joel Miller x OC)

Summary: What if Joel survived his injuries from the Abby and Fireflies attack but ends up with really bad amnesia. He can’t remember his wife, Ellie, or the Outbreak; only before. How will his family bring back the man they once knew?Pairing: Joel Miller x OC                                                                                      Note: An update? Could It be? After all this time?...Yes. It is I! I come with a thousand apologies for taking so long to update. I didn't plan for it be so long but with Covid and going back to work during Covid and family stuff, I just haven't had the time but I'm back my lovelies and I really hope this chapter doesn't disappoint :)

Chapter Seven 

Tommy woke up late for the first time in weeks; he didn’t often sleep in but given his late night chasing lost cattle through the town after they’d somehow managed to escape the paddocks; he figured he more than deserved it. Maria had woken him when she made to leave and insisted he stay put while she made a start on the morning checks. She kissed him goodbye and they promised to meet later for lunch together.

The morning air was crisp and fresh as he stepped down onto the path, his jacket zipped tight to fight off the dwindling cold. The snow had long since melted and there were clear telltale signs of Spring fast approaching in Jackson.

And while the cold wasn’t as biting as it had been, there was still the odd chill that needed to be shielded from with a layer or two.

It wouldn’t be long before they were preparing for a new harvest to grow throughout the year. The sacks of seeds and planting equipment appearing all over town as families began to prep the soil and start their planting as the wildflowers poked their heads through the ground to bask in the warming sunlight.

Tommy made his way through the streets heading straight for his brother’s house. It was still hard to believe that it had been a whole two months since Joel’s attack.

Two whole months since his sister in law had lost her husband; his niece, her father. And unfortunately for all of them; it didn’t seem like Joel was making any progress to getting his memories back. He tried to help of course but his brother, being the stubborn grump that he was, had only pushed his younger brother away, insisting he was capable of handling the trauma alone.

He hated seeing his brother struggling, especially when it seemed that some details were coming through. It was little things but it was better than nothing. The only problem was, it was things Joel seemed to dismiss without a second thought.

Tommy honestly believed if Joel focused on them, they’d help process bigger things. Though it certainly hadn’t helped matters that the older Miller had stopped going to his weekly check ups to help his mind improve. The head of the infirmary had voiced her concerns to Tommy a few days earlier. His constant dismissal and disregard for their importance to his slow recovery; not just frustrating the Doctor but also Tommy himself.

He just hoped he could talk some sense into his big brother.

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

He knocked but no answer greeted him as he stepped inside the house. It was quiet but clean. Each room meticulously organised and tidied to within an itch of its life. He figured this was what Joel must have been filling his days with over the past few weeks. The sound of muffled hammering caught his attention, leading him up the stairs to Joel’s workshop room. The door slightly ajar. Tommy had barely entered the room before Joel acknowledged him.  

“What do you want, Tommy?” Joel grunted without even bothering to turn around. Tommy just shrugged silently, his hands awkwardly stuffing into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Well good morning to you too, just stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

“As good as I can be I guess.” He muttered as he continued to work, never taking his eyes off the wood in his hands. It felt nice seeing his brother once again taking an interest in an old hobby that he had enjoyed before his injury. It felt like maybe they were finally heading in the right direction. But Tommy had to hold off, he didn’t want to push anymore than was necessary. He knew Joel well enough to know that if you pushed too far; Joel would only push back twice as hard. “Right, sorry... whatcha making?”   Joel hobbled back a little from the table, giving Tommy a better view of the work in question. The long neck and the four legs beginning to take shape made his heart skip. The older man had always had a talent; that was for certain. The horses he made were always magnificent. The wolves and the deer along with any other animal the people of Jackson had asked for; were always made with utmost care. And it seemed this work of art was no different.

“I think I meant for it to be a giraffe before... everything. Figured I might as well finish it. Hell if I know who it was supposed to be for.”

“Ellie.” Tommy whispered.  

“What?”

Tommy took a second for his brain to catch up with his words as he quickly cleared his throat and tried not to fidget too much. “It’s just...uh.. that it’s her birthday in a couple of months and she always liked giraffes, maybe it was meant for her?” He offered nervously. Joel just hummed casually. With a quick dismissive shake of his head and a sigh; he moved the half carved giraffe onto a nearby shelf along with his other unfinished projects. Turning to face his brother, his arm reaching out to grab his cane to steady his balance.

“Yeah, maybe...maybe Ada asked me to make it for her to give to Ellie as a gift.” He wondered out loud, stopping Tommy in his tracks.

“You talked to her?” He asked almost a little too quickly. Causing Joel to frown slightly in response at his brother’s unexplained eagerness.  

“Who Ada? Briefly, why? Am I supposed to know her or something?”

“You guys were...friends I guess…” Tommy replied weakly. He knew he had to be cautious here, baby steps. They were moving into uncharted territory when it came to Ada and Ellie. Joel had only just started to accept the life they had lived in Boston as smugglers and that was before he had even had the courage to bring up the Fireflies. He needed to steer clear of things deeper than that for now  and ease into the conversation he wanted to have. But his patience was starting to run thin. “Look, the reason I came by is because I was talking to Elizabeth and she said you’ve stopped going to your check ups.”  

“Oh not this again Tommy!” Joel snapped, his brother rolling his eyes in frustration as Joel hobbled away from his work space and further towards the door. But Tommy was quick to stop him, stepping in the threshold and blocking Joel’s exit.

“Look I know I don’t understand what you’re going through but-”

“You’re damn right you don’t!” He yelled. "You have no idea what it’s like Tommy; to lose years of your life in an instant. Forget everything you’ve done and the people you used to care about. I don’t see how bitching about how shitty this is to the damn Doctor is going to help!”

“But you’re starting to remember things Joel! That’s a big fucking deal!”

“How?! All I’m remembering is crap no one cares about! How are horse’s names gonna help me? Or how I take my coffee in the morning? I couldn’t even remember holding my little girl in my arms after she was shot! Oh but thank the lord I could remember what colour shirt I was wearing when it happened!!”

With every word Joel got closer, his nostrils flaring in anger as blood continued to boil. But Tommy never backed down, squaring up to his big brother wasn’t unusual and certainly wasn’t the first time they’d been at odds on how to handle something. Joel’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched.

“It’s been two months Tommy...two months of this and it ain’t getting better any time soon. This ain’t your problem so just back off!” He hissed between gritted teeth.

“You can’t just push me away Joel, I want to help. I’m trying but you’re just being so damn stubborn.”

“Then leave, I didn’t ask you to babysit me. And I sure as hell don’t need you sticking around outta guilt.” The words stopped Tommy dead.

“What?”

“I might not remember what happened but I know enough from what you told me about Boston...You survived because of me. All those years I took care of us. Just like when we were kids. So what? You feel like you owe me? You gotta take your turn to take care of me now? You can keep it baby brother because I don’t want it. And I didn’t ask for it.” The words spit venom with every ounce of bitterness Joel had in him. And Tommy felt his lip snarl in response. The ungrateful bastard; he thought coldly, after everything he’d done to keep his brother alive on the way back to Jackson after the Fireflies had almost beaten him to death and this was what he had to say in response.

“How do I know the people who did this weren’t after you. I mean they did a pretty good number on you too right? Big brother to the rescue to save your sorry ass; yet again! You think I want to live like this?! Huh?! Trapped in a life of a man I don’t even know. A house full of memories I can’t even goddamn remember!”

That was it, Tommy was done. Joel was frustrated and angry, he knew that. He understood that. Of course he did. But to blame him for this?! How the hell was that fair? His hands shook in pure anger, chest heaving as he held back his punches as much as he could. He stumbled away from the door. His trembling hand reaching up and running through his beard in a poor attempt to calm himself.  

“You know what screw you! Screw you Joel! You wanna give up, you wanna feel sorry for yourself? Fine! I’m done. You give up on your family-”

“Family?! What damn family? There’s no one left Tommy! Sarah is gone!”

“She ain’t the only one you got!” Tommy cut off without thinking. Joel’s face dropping at his brother's outburst. The younger man’s eyes widened in shock as he realised what he’d said. But it was too late to take it back now. And Tommy knew that. They both did. Perhaps now was the time to tell the truth.

“You want to know who your family is Joel? Take a look in your damn attic.”

Tommy uttered the words into the thick silence left between the two men. Before turning on his heel to leave, never giving Joel a chance to answer. Leaving the man to stew in his confession. He just hoped that somehow...Ada could forgive him for this.  

[onecanonlife]

(for the ask meme) i love this bit from chip at the bricks. "are you just now figuring that out?" is such a mood

ohhh chip at the bricks my beloved it’s been so long okay okay so (warnings for mention of things that the fic deals with, like panic attacks and trauma)

this whole exchange is so very important to me, because it’s essentially about them meeting on the same level, whether c!tommy wants to or not, and it just. it just shows how much tommy cares even though he doesn’t currently want to, even though he wants to convince himself that he doesn’t, it’s just

“Are we real?”

He swallows. “We’re real.”

“This is real?”

“This is real.”

“I’m alive?” But before Tommy can answer that one, he takes a deep breath. “Right, I—I’m alive. I’m alive.”

“Yeah,” he agrees simply.

wilbur seeking grounding and tommy giving it because there’s no world in which tommy doesn’t, no world in which tommy sees wilbur suffering like that, suffering from something that he has also experienced a version of, no less, and doesn’t try to help him. even if he hated wilbur, he wouldn’t let that happen. and he doesn’t hate wilbur, no matter how much he tries to claim he does throughout this fic

“Oh,” Wilbur says. “Well, fuck me, then. That was fucking awful.”

Wilbur’s voice is doing a strange thing, like he’s trying too hard to sound normal, and Tommy wishes, wishes he didn’t recognize the same thing in himself. He tries to pull his hands away, but Wilbur catches them by the wrists, and his grip is far too firm for someone who wasn’t aware of his surroundings only a minute ago.

wilbur, immediately after having a panic attack: time to downplay <3

and then of course we’ve got

“You’re kind of fucked up,” he says instead, and Wilbur snorts.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you just now figuring that out?” he says, and finally releases him. He immediately tucks his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been fucked up since forever, that’s not news.”

i don’t know if i’d write current revivebur saying that, but i still feel like it works for the revivebur so soon off his resurrection, still trying to find his footing, still with that mindset of ‘me and tommy were bad for the server’ and all of that. and also, there’s the dueling desires of ‘i want to be close to tommy i do not want to be alone i want to keep him with me’ and ‘tommy knows what i am and i know what i am so i’ve got to emphasize how fucked up i am so he’ll leave and rip that bandage off already’. you know, just self-loathing things <3

again i don’t know that i’d write it quite like that for revivebur as he currently stands but. i still really do like that exchange

He hates this. He hates all of this, so much. He wants to go back to an hour ago, when he felt so secure in regarding Wilbur as something inhuman, nothing but a dangerous threat, not a person with feelings of his own. Now everything feels all complicated, and there’s not anyone there to help him work through it.

Because there’s supposed to be a line. A line between the good Wilbur, and the bad Wilbur, and he hates him because he crossed that line, became bad when he was supposed to be so very good. But what is he supposed to do if it turns out that line never really existed in the first place?

and then there’s this, which is probably one of my favorite parts of the whole fic, because tommy is really struggling with this. because spoiler alert: he’s never actually seen wilbur as, say, inhuman, but it was so much easier to at least let himself believe that he did. black and white thinking is a common problem on the server, and tommy is no exception to that (though, not to the same degree as, say, c!wilbur himself), especially because he never really got the chance to properly mourn wilbur and work through his feelings toward him

so, easier to believe that he believes that wilbur was good, and then he was bad, and he’s still bad now. less hurt that way, maybe. except, deep down, he’s always known that’s not true, and now he’s being forced to confront that

wilbur is a complicated person, and tommy’s feelings toward him are complicated, and that’s okay. and maybe that can be a basis for them to repair their relationship