#consider this a long-winded passionate ramble

[awordsmith]

if we had known 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you and Spencer are best friends, and have never crossed that line because you're in love with him and he's in love with JJ–or so you think.

katcember

who? spencer reid x bau!reader when? s7 category: angst content warnings: proofed! right person wrong time(?), unrequited love, false depiction of therapy (really just the quickness and no evaluation), past to present, depression, broken to mending friendship, jealousy, envy, Spencer's addiction, lots of crying (prepare yourself), personal growth, reid with care word count: 9.4k a/n: it made me cry. a lot. enjoy!

Wind had been blowing through your hair, you had worn a long-sleeve and yet it was still cold–it was December, the constant downpour should've made you think twice before you'd left, but it hadn't, and you were freezing. Maybe you should have brought a jacket, that would have been ideal, but you were running late, and you were never late, so you had been rushing.

You remembered the clouds darkening that night, you weren't afraid of the dark, apparently, as Spencer had mentioned, but of the things that could be lurking. Hotch was staying late, per usual, and the others had already gone home for the night, so Spencer had offered to walk you to your car.

He was nice like that, which is why you'd considered him your best friend. You hadn't had many outside of the BAU, some acquaintances at best–and though you had been incredibly close to the other members on your team, Spencer was different. You had always supposed it was due to the fact that you were the closest in age.

He had been 26 at the time, and you were just a year younger. That was the year you had joined the team, at the ripe age of 25, whereas he had been with the team for 4 years prior to you. He was the youngest known member to join the Bureau, and working with him, you were able to see why.

He was incredible in almost everything he did, you loved listening to him rant, it was mesmerizing the way someone could be so passionate about so many different and unrelated things, the way he knew so much about nothing and everything. You'd known it was mainly his eidetic memory, but it had still been fascinating. You couldn't help the way you'd analyze the way he spoke nor could you fail to notice the other team members energy toward his rambling. It annoyed you a little, but you had been new and hadn't wanted to say anything.

In your own way though, you'd been able to show him you cared, "go on," you'd murmur in a low voice, a small smile grazing your lips. He used to look at you contemplative. The first time you'd said it, you'd almost wished you could take it right back. The others had looked at you like you might have been mad, and maybe at some point you were; if it were maddening to want to listen to someone speak, then you would've concluded that, yes, you were indeed mad.

"Thank you," you'd said as you got to your car, spinning on your heels, smiling up at him.

"Any time," he had chirped, hands in his pockets, "hey, there's this showing, it's in Italian and there are no subtitles, but I can whisper you the translations, if you...wanted to go..." he'd scratched the back of his head, it was the first time he'd invited you out. It wasn't a date, you'd known this because you'd heard him ask the others about it before, most of the time he was shut down and you'd had to cover your snickers because as sad as it was, it had also always been somewhat funny, their responses and expressions–and the way Spencer never look disappointed, but rather confused and sometimes even expectant.

"I'd love to-o-o," you'd shivered, grabbing your arm and rubbing it up and down.

"Oh, are you cold?" He'd frowned, concerned. He'd pulled his satchel off and had sat it atop your car's trunk. He'd shrugged of his sweater, it was his favorite at the time, the brown, plaid one. He'd worn it more than he spoke, which was saying something, you remembered smiling at the thought as he'd handed it over to you.

You were stunned, you had never dated anyone before, so this treatment hadn't been normal for you. Though with Spencer, things always seemed to be everything but ordinary.

He had grabbed your bag as you'd slipped into his sweater, dainty as it had been, it did the job. It smelled like him, like too-sweet coffee and paper, or maybe that was old books, it could've been both, he never was seen without one or the other.

"Thank you," you'd smiled up at him, taking your bag back, watching as he'd pulled his satchel back over his shoulder. The wind picked up again, but his sweater kept you warm, "again."

He'd nodded, "as I said, any time, it looks better on you anyway," you'd returned his nod, suppressing the grin that would have no doubt escaped you if didn't know Spencer was Spencer, if you were strangers, perhaps.

"So, the movie, where do you want to meet?"

He'd grabbed the strap of his satchel, eyebrows raised in slight disbelief, "you–want to go? Really?"

"Yep," you'd nodded, eyes lighting up, "I have a personal translator, not many people can say that. I'm special," you'd said dramatically, but pride had slipped through, and you were sure he'd noticed it, even if he'd omitted to say anything.

He'd snorted, "I don't come free."

That was the moment you'd known, that no matter how hard you'd try detaching your heart, losing him would hurt–it'd hurt in ways you'd kept yourself from imagining. Coming to this conclusion, making up your mind hadn't been all that hard, it was simple–really; you would just never lose him.

That same year, Spencer had been kidnapped by an unsub, who'd later be identified as Tobias Hankel. Words couldn't express how angry you were at JJ. You'd lashed out when you'd found out he was missing, Morgan had to hold you back from, from that point you had lost all control of your emotions and it was the first time you hadn't been scared to lose your job. You had been terrified of what he was going through, you hadn't even a clue as to where he was or if he was still alive. But he has to be, you remembered thinking.

It had almost drove you to complete depression, thoughts of uncovering his body in the most gruesome way, thoughts of him being a body and not Spencer, the genius who could ramble on and on about almost anything, who'd given you his sweater when you were cold, who'd whispered translations into your ear–it was unthinkable, and to this day it still brought you to tears when you thought about it.

When the live videos of him began popping up on the screens in the living room, Hotch had ordered you to stay in another room.

He'd noticed the way you'd began to look at Reid, how you watched him speak and encourage him to do it more often around you. He'd never say it out loud because he knew you and Spencer were both adults and would never cross that boundary, but he just couldn't bring himself to let you see Spencer like that. Gideon seemed to agree.

You'd been angry at him, of course–you were angry at the world. It's how he'd feel if something like that ever happened to Haley or Jack, he hadn't blamed you, but he had still needed you to be at your best, and you had already been deteriorating with the knowledge of Spencer's kidnapping, seeing those videos–him in that state–it would have ultimately broke you, and you were so young; he hadn't known then, if he could have pulled you back from that.

Finding Spencer alive was the only thing that saved you from a catastrophic end. You would have brought down the door with you bare hands had it not been for Hotch kicking it down for you. When you found he wasn't there, you'd run out, passed the other's shouting, "they have to be on foot, they can't be far."

Gun out, you were the first to approach, some part of your mind had taken over and you'd realized doing this by yourself wasn't rational nor professional, even if it was Spencer. He had been right there, so close, and yet so far. "I'm moving in," you'd told Gideon and Hotch, when they'd finally caught up.

No one said anything as you'd moved forward, guns trained on whatever might have been in front of you. It'd been dark, you'd had your flashlight above your gun when a shot rang through, you'd screamed and had ran towards it. The rest of the team followed close behind. Spencer had been leaning over Tobias, mumbling to him.

Hotch had stepped in front of you to help Spencer get to his feet as you'd stopped to watch, unable to physically move forward. Tears sprang in your eyes as the team began asking if he was alright. When Hotch had confirmed this, he'd glanced at you and frowned, turning back to Spencer for a brief moment to pat him on the back before walking away. Spencer had turned to you–or at least you thought he had. JJ had moved forward to your side hesitantly, but Spencer instantly captured her in a hug.

Your heart dropped and you felt some type of way, though you hadn't wanted to admit it to yourself at the time, there'd been a strong distaste for JJ in that moment, strong and yet it hadn't just been anger, it had been envy. You'd known it was envy because jealousy stemmed from something you had, and you did not have Spencer the way JJ did.

"I am so sorry," she'd said, and guilt had ran up your spine. How could you have felt such a terrible way toward her when she'd probably been punishing and blaming herself for everything he'd been going through? The worst part however, was that though you may have been closer to Spencer than anyone else on the team, he'd always have that bond with JJ; she'd known him first–and that was something you couldn't compete with.

When they'd pulled away, he'd glanced at Gideon and smiled painfully, but then his eyes had turned on you, and a nervousness that hadn't been there before spread across you like fire in a forest.

"Hey," he'd mumbled.

"Shut up," you'd wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest. He had smelled horrible, alcohol and another scent you wouldn't recognize until later.

He'd chuckled and you had heard the aching in it as he'd wrapped an arm around you, the other had gone to your hair, smoothing it downward, "I didn't say anything."

"What did I say," you'd pulled away, eyes red and rimmed, tear streaks smudged slightly on his dirty shirt.

He'd gave you one of those impeccable smiles, the ones he'd come to find could always get him out of trouble with you, you hated it, but despite yourself it still worked. He'd lifted his head then, to someone behind you, it was Morgan, his own eyes looking just as haunted.

Morgan had followed Gideon toward the cars after a shared silence. You'd helped Spencer limp back to the car, "you can put your full weight on me, I can handle it," you'd said, huffing.

He'd snorted and winced right after, "I know, you can handle anything." You'd smiled to yourself, then had frowned when Spencer stopped moving suddenly. You'd slid your eyes across his face, afraid he'd had some internal wound, one he couldn't mentally feel, but then his eyes–serious and captivating–stopped your wondering, and his voice had trembled when he'd whispered, "thank you."

Your throat had went dry and the rawness that'd laced your tone said everything and nothing at all, "any time."

He'd gotten addicted, anyone with half a brain could've seen it. You'd wanted to mention it, you'd wanted to bring it up, you just hadn't known how. Everyone on the team had seemed to want to ignore it, or, like you they'd had no idea how to bring it up without triggering him.

But you would. Your movie nights had ceased, after he'd been released from the hospital, you'd wanted him to take it easy, you'd never once thought that would've been the result. What the hell had happened? What had you not seen? What in this tragic world had he'd been going through on those live videos?

You had kept biting your tongue, but eventually, it had got to a point where you just couldn't stand to see him like that nor could you stand to sit idly by like the others and pretend like nothing was wrong.

Unannounced, you'd shown up at his place, should you have been there? You didn't think to care, a knock, then two. As you'd gone in for the third, audible rustling had come from the other side of the door. You had frozen, hands glued to your side like a cheerleader at default. His face when he'd opened the door looked horrible, he'd probably been just been asleep, it was a Sunday after all, a once in a lifetime Sunday where you hadn't been called in, a miracle, really; were it not for that Sunday, you just might have chickened out.

"Hey," you'd smiled, rubbing your hand over your arm nervously. "How–are you feeling?"

You hadn't bee able to see half of his body as he'd been leaning halfway out the door. You'd been to his apartment a few times prior, sometimes to pick him up, sometimes you'd binge movies and shows, but you'd never stayed the night. With how close you were, you were both careful not to cross that boundary–well, it had mostly been you.

You not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you not wanting to accidentally give yourself away by mumbling something in your sleep; you not wanting him to notice it in your eyes on an evening when you were half awake–and he would have, you had absolutely no doubt that he would have.

"I'm okay," his voice was thick, it had been 1 in the afternoon and you hadn't been one to judge, especially when it came to him, especially when you'd considered what he had survived–but it had still clung to you like a shadow, a dark, looming shadow. "What are you doing here?"

Your friend–your best friend–had been in trouble, he hadn't even looked like your friend anymore, he'd been a shell of himself, and if you had been anything, you'd been determined. You'd frowned and pushed your way into his house, "you've been distant," you'd moved your eyes around the space, nose crinkling at the odor, his apartment had been trashed. Cups of noodles had been on every surface, some even on the floor between his couch and coffee table. Blankets scattered the floor and you could remember seeing clothing on the floor in the hall that led all the way to his room. Your chest had squeezed in pain for him.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to," he'd motioned around and had cleared his throat.

"Oh, Spencer," your eyes had softened as he'd shut the door behind him, "I don't know what you've been going through, but I know it's been hard on you."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he'd audibly gulped and had cast his eyes to the floor, having the decency to look a little ashamed.

"Spencer," you'd walked toward him, voice startlingly clear. His eyes had glanced up for a second, then quickly back to the floor. "Spencer," you'd said again, pulling on his wrists, "why haven't you come to me? I know you're hurting, please let me help you."

"Why?" His tone had been clear indifference, his eyes narrowed slightly and when he'd looked at you his face was distrusting.

That was the first time you'd felt a physical crack in your heart. You had never–never–seen him this way, in all the months you'd grown to know him, to appreciate and respect him, never once had he looked at you that way.

"Because you're my friend," you'd pleaded, tears welling up in your eyes.

He'd snatched his arms from you and had turned around with swiftness he'd only ever used in the field, "I think it's time you go."

"Spencer?" You'd called, your voice quiet.

He said nothing as he'd stepped out of your way and had reopened his door, waiting patiently for your exit.

You'd done so, but not without a plan forming in your head. The next day, Monday, you had woken up extra early, gotten ready, and had headed for Spencer's. You hadn't let a single word of his deter you from banging on his door until he'd answered–pushing away the guilt of waking up his neighbors–that day you'd forced him to give you a copy of his house keys.

The day after that, you'd gotten up early again, and using the copy of his house key, had silently slipped into his apartment and hauled him out of bed. You'd took his groaning and shouting and every insult he'd thrown your way under his breath, he didn't mean it, you knew, so you'd always thrown them away as soon as they'd leave his mouth–but sometimes, they'd find you at night when you were in bed and you'd cry yourself to sleep, then you'd get up and go through it all over again for his sake, all for him–but maybe...maybe just a little bit had been selfishly for you.

Hating yourself for knowing that had it been anyone else, you probably would have given up that first day, but it hadn't been anyone else, and you hadn't given up on him. Even if you'd known he was in love with JJ at the time, you wouldn't have done anything differently, because you didn't want to lose him–you couldn't; you had promised yourself.

The following weekend, you'd asked Gideon to let you stay home from the case you and the team had been working on, alluding to the fact it had something to do with Spencer, which thankfully got to him.

While Spencer was away with the team–you'd hoped they would watch out for him, you had to have faith that they had cared enough to do at least that much–you cleaned his apartment. You'd bought materials specifically to tackle the mold threatening to grow. You'd searched up–a lot of what you now knew on how to clean an apartment that had been dormant for a couple months–on the computer in the nearby library. Leave it to Spencer to always make you feel young.

You'd begun with the things you could pick up, separating dirty laundry from garbage via trash bags. The space had garnered a foul smell which you'd noted that first Sunday you'd popped up out of nowhere, but it had eluded your mind when Spencer had asked you why. You'd thought on that moment multiple times, why? Why? You'd sometimes felt like screaming when you were alone, how could he have asked such a stupid question? Of all the things that must have been floating through his thick skull he'd settled on "why"–you'd taken a breath, calming yourself. He couldn't help it, he hadn't expected anyone to care so he acted as if no one did. You hadn't meant to profile him at the time, it had just happened, and if you'd been honest, you hadn't felt sorry. It had been one of your biggest motivators–to show him that someone did in fact care.

Eventually, he'd begun to expect you each morning, and maybe it was a little selfish on his part–maybe–but he'd begun to lean on you, turn to you...a lot more than he should have. At first he'd rationalized it, you'd been persistent, who was he to stop you?

Within a month he'd begun seeing a therapist, he hadn't wanted to take time off of work and admit himself into a facility, doing that had–and still–scared him more than his addiction, it would have meant admitting he was unstable, unable, and that just–well it hadn't been an option.

He'd gotten his life somewhat on track again, thanks to you, it had all been you. He had treated you horribly and you had still cared, had still helped him–admitting himself into an institution not only scared him because of his past, but because the thought of not being able to see you at work everyday, and outside of work whenever he'd wanted was too much to bear, he knew he would have possibly gone mad–and he hadn't wanted to think about what that had meant.

You'd never seen a drunk Spencer before then, the air was chilly, and you'd just left the bar, thanking God Hotch hadn't been there, or he no doubt would have ripped into you for allowing Spencer to drink as much as he did.

Before then, the only thing you'd thought he drank more than he could handle was coffee. Morgan had taken Penelope home–you'd gotten used to their relationship as fast as Spencer read novels. Rossi and Emily had stayed home as well, reasons: unknown.

JJ hadn't been able to make it, she'd gone on a date with Will, she'd grown on you after Spencer had gotten better, but you'd still had a bone to pick with her and the rest of the team for allowing Spencer's addiction to get a bad as he did.

You'd kept your opinions and feelings to yourself because Spencer never brought it up, but there'd been times–you'd recall them sometimes right before you'd close your eyes at night–times where he'd asked for help in complete roundabout ways. But he'd said them in a room full of profilers, so there was no way he'd said them on accident or without meaning.

"Woa–ho," you'd laughed, grabbing onto his arm to keep him upright. "I am never letting you drink that much again."

"Wha–what?" He'd whined, "why? What did I do?"

You'd heaved a heavy sigh, but had laughed when he'd stopped, turned to you with squinted eyes, and poked your forehead.

Turning back away, he'd found you were on a bridge that overlooked a shallow river, the lampposts that had glowed that night lit up the dark, working together with the stars to allow you to see.

You'd followed him to the hangar and watched as he'd leaned over the railing, his elbows had b raced against the cold metal. You'd leaned your back on the railing beside him, head tilted upward toward the stars as his tilted down toward the water. "I think I love her," he'd whispered, but when you'd caught it–and you had caught it, your heart sank.

"...love her?"

"Yeah," he'd paused, "JJ."

JJ.

Crack went your heart. You'd blinked away tears and gulped. How were you suppose to respond? How would a normal friend respond? What would Penelope or Dereck say? Hell, even Hotch would've been a better person for him to say this to–but he hadn't known that.

You'd swallowed your pain, "oh..."

"I don't know what to do," he'd continued, "she's my best friend..." and she has a husband, and she has a kid on the way, and I thought I was your best friend and I love you... Thoughts ran through your head at godspeed, but you'd stayed silent because you were sure–no, more than sure, you knew for absolute certainty your voice would have given you away within seconds. Spencer had been drunk, but you hadn't been thinking about him, no it was you. If you'd heard your own voice, even for just a second, you would have lost it.

A break down had not been on your list of things to do that night, but there you were, balling your eyes out like a lovesick teenager the instant you'd stepped into you apartment. You hadn't been able to stop it, it wouldn't have been healthy, anyway, and if you had kept it inside, you would have chanced being profiled by the best, and it wouldn't have been hard to connect the dots.

You'd been pretty sure Spencer had not remembered a single thing from the moment you had left the bar. He'd called you the morning after with a massive hangover and as much as you had wanted to avoid him, he'd been your best friend and it wouldn't have been fair to him, especially if he'd had no idea what you were feeling–and how could he?

You'd hid it so well you hadn't even been able to believe it yourself. How to move on, how to get ride of these thoughts that had seemed to plague you every night? You buried it the only way you could; you wrote it out in a journal, everything, every last bit, it had been easier than saying it out loud to a therapist and even yourself.

Every time you'd felt the sudden urge to cry, every time you saw his gaze linger on her or they spoke alone, it hurt you, it hurt you a lot more than you'd ever thought it could.

It'd been a year, a year of suppressed feelings, of envy, of keeping quiet just so you could hold onto what you have left of him because if there was even a small chance JJ had given him any thought–yes she was married, yes, she had a child, and yes they were coworkers–you were pretty sure Spencer would take it.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Spencer plopped down on the chair beside yours. You were using it to hold documents as you'd been cleaning out your desk, but you'd stopped using for some time now, and you'd meant to take it back to the meeting room you'd stole it from when–briefly–you recalled that night Spencer had gotten a little too drunk.

You slammed the notebook shut way too fast to go unnoticed by him and as you lifted your head to meet his, his eyes snagged on the small brown, leather-bound book. "Nothing, why–what's going on?"

His eyes narrowed bit and when he lifted them back up to meet yours, you stilled. "Nothing..." he dragged out, "just wanted to see if you were busy tonight."

"Nope, completely free," you chirped.

He pressed his lips together, careful to keep his eyes on you. If he didn't, you would've profiled the notebook piqued his curiosity, and if he was going to snoop, he could't give you any reason to hide it.

Now, Spencer never would have done it if it hadn't been you. You had your secrets, sure, but he had talked to you about his mother, he had introduced you to his mother. You hadn't been around when the team first met her, and Spencer had desperately wanted you to, had wanted her to know you.

He'd taken you after he'd gotten clean, and you had been perfect just as you always were. You'd told him about your family too, where you'd grown up, what it was like for you in school, in university, you had practically shared life stories, so the fact that you were keeping something from him–it just–it didn't sit right.

It would keep him up at night and he knew it and–yes, it was an invasion of privacy and it was your right and yet he could not find it in himself to–for a lack of better words...care.

It was nearing his birthday, you hadn't mentioned it yet, but he knew you were planning something, perhaps that was what you'd been writing about, and if it was, well, then there was no harm no foul. You'd be pissed, of course, but you'd forgive him...eventually. You always did when he prodded at you, he'd use the smile you never seemed be able to say no to.

That smile, you were sure God had crafted it just for you because every time you saw it you just melted. Your knees would go weak or you'd get butterflies in your stomach, somersaults, or you'd just feel sick–you didn't know which was worse.

Some days your body would be affected physically and there would be no other explanation except the way you were feeling that day. Except the way you'd cry into your pillows, whenever the pain was too much, you found yourself ignoring the wold around you.

It was growing–had been for a while–you were planning to cancel on Spencer, which wouldn't be out of the norm for you these days, which was most likely one of the reasons he'd invited you out today, because you'd cancelled on your movie night last Saturday and the Tuesday before that, you'd cancelled your babysitting at Hotch's with him.

He was probably worried something had happened to you and you knew it was't fair, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care. His birthday was coming up and you wanted to do something for him, something special, you both loved October, you more than him because it was his birth month as well as spooky season, but as the days passed, you couldn't stand to see his face without feeling your heart ache.

You tried reading, throwing yourself into work, anything and everything to get your mind off of him, but nothing stuck. You were being consumed by your thoughts, your unrequited love, you needed a rush, maybe then you'd be able to close your eyes and breath without smelling his cologne and seeing his stupid, pouting smile.

October 12th, Spencer's birthday, he was turning 30 this year, and you still hadn't wrapped your head around what to do. You'd walked into the office, Penelope running past you, calling for you to follow. You weren't normally late, but the past year of suppression had taken its toll on you; you didn't think you'd ever been in a worser state than you were in now.

You listened over the case, but you weren't really listening, you were debating whether or not to tell Hotch, when someone latched their arms onto your shoulders and shook you.

You glanced around the circular table, meeting each pair of eyes with more shame than the last, "I'm sorry," you said, rubbing your eyes.

Hotch stared at you for a moment, silently analyzing your appearance, Spencer opened his mouth to speak, perhaps on your behalf, you couldn't really tell, but Hotch beat him to it when he stood abruptly and said, "follow me, the rest of you continue." You ignored Spencer's concern as you followed your boss to a private space.

Your eyes locked on something behind him as you waited for him to speak, and when he did, you weren't surprised at what he had to say, "what's going on with you?"

Six years, six years you had been with the Bureau, six years you had worked with Hotch and Spencer and Morgan and JJ and Garcia. Six years and for a brief, but sure moment, you'd thought about asking for a transfer.

"Don't do that," Hotch pulled your attention to his face, "don't ignore me."

Your frown deepened, "I'm not–

"First stage, denial," he tilted his head down when you averted your eyes so as to keep the contact, "but you're not in denial, nor are you angry, I've seen you write in that book of yours for half a year, but it's not enough anymore, you must've just hit stage four–"

"I thought we didn't profile each other," he'd hit a nerve and you both knew it.

He sighed, and murmured your name, it wasn't until you found his eyes again that he asked, "who are you mourning?"

You seized up, tightening your face. It was overwhelming and scary just how accurate Hotch was. A moment passed between you two, Hotch's brows furrowed in confusion and you–body, mind, face, and soul–frozen in terror.

The sound of the door opening knocked you both out of your trance. It was Spencer, Hotch caught the twitch your left eye gave when you perceived who the intruder was. Recognition lit up his face, but then he was just as confused again. You and Spencer seemed to be as you always had been–no, something must have changed, for you at least. Spencer seemed oblivious, or he had been for the better part of whatever you'd been going through.

He was now between a rock and a very hard place, what could he honestly do? This had nothing to do with him–but he had failed a team member once, and now that same team member seemed to be at the pinnacle of the distress of another one. What was he to do? What was the best course of action? He had no information, well, he knew you were in love with Spencer, that wasn't much of a deduction, the whole team practically knew–all but Spencer of course. If it was rejection–no that just didn't fit with Spencer's upbeat attitude, whatever had happened clearly wasn't recent.

"Hotch," Spencer spoke, pulling his attention away from his thoughts if only for a moment, "do you mind if we..."

Oh. The team lead thought, perhaps Spencer had found out already? Then he had everything under control? So, should he leave it alone? Ignore it? That seemed to be what he did best, he grimaced at the guilty thought and glanced at you, now just a bit relaxed. "Sure, but be quick."

He stopped himself from saying more and took up refuge in the room with the rest, pretending like he didn't notice their questioning eyes. This time, of all times, the best thing he could truly do for his team members–was absolutely nothing.

Spencer stood silently, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared at you with unrelenting eyes. He was analyzing you just as Hotch had been, but with better, knowing eyes.

He did–in fact–sneak a peak at your journal, more so toward your latest entry. It shocked him–to his core, it shocked him. He had to put it down when he'd read the first paragraph. Being able to read 20,000 words per minute, he'd thought he'd be done within seconds, he'd thought he would have been able to read the entire thing, actually, before you got back from the restroom.

It had been the first time in a long time he'd been wrong about something, wrong about himself.

He'd read it over again after a few second of sitting in your chair, too stunned to come up with coherent thoughts. He'd thought he surely must have read it wrong, he must've been tired, he couldn't have read what he'd thought he'd read.

But sure enough, the words were still there, emboldened and burning in his head. He'd flipped back to the first entry, you'd been documenting for a few months now and it physically pained him to read it. How could he have not known? How could he have been so incredibly blind? How could he call himself a genius and not have profiled that his best friend was in love with him? That she was hurting from it, because–all because–

"You know then," her voice tugged at something in him. His face contorted into pain-stricken grief. You contained a small urge to laugh, it would have been dry anyway, and you were tired, but you shoved it down, away.

"Yeah," his voice was raw, like he'd been crying and maybe he had, maybe some part of him felt sorry for you so he had cried. Pity, it disgusted you, it made you disgusted at yourself.

You nodded, your lips forming a thin line, "I'm sorry," you got out before you shut you eyes on instinct to keep the tears from spilling out. You turned around to hide hide yourself, he already knew, you had to keep some emblem of your dignity.

You began walking away when you recalled, for some reason, his birthday, and you turned back around, walking back up to him with tears streaking down your face. Tears in his own eyes threatened to break loose at any moment. You truly were sorry that you had put him though all of this, but that's not why he was crying.

He was angry at himself and hurt for you. He didn't know how he could have been so incredibly stupid. That's all he could think of, all his mind–his heart–would let him think clearly; how stupid he was.

He watched as you stepped forward, as sad and detached as you seemed, your walk was graceful, as if you were a ghost floating down the hall. He tensed slightly, as you brought your hands forward, he'd take it, he deserved to be slapped after all–hell, he would probably slap himself later on when he was alone because of how unintelligent, how thickheaded, and witless he'd been.

He didn't even close his eyes, he was ready for it, but you didn't slap him. You pulled his face down and pushed yours forward. You kissed the side of his cheek and whispered, "happy birthday, Spencer."

Shock wrapped itself around his brain, he felt like a robot as you pulled away and turned. Pieces fell as you walked away because shattered was your heart.

He should have followed you, he should have, he knew he should have, but he had been scared. He still was, and the more time went on–the longer he stopped seeing you–that fear grew. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what was terrifying him, but he had a few guesses.

He didn't want to lose your friendship: he'd been so close to you for so long, he turned to you for everything and he'd expected you to do the same. There were moments, he'd knew there were, when he'd catch himself analyzing he curve of your figure when you'd fallen asleep on his ouch or yours. His eyes would sometimes trace the lines that made up your face, the dip at the top of your lips, the way they'd press together when you were contemplative or worried. He didn't want to lose those moments, moments that he really shouldn't have had, moments that he considered his and his alone.

He'd never been in this situation before and if he wasn't careful, he'd mess it up: Spencer'd had crushes before, he'd even had a girlfriend once, briefly, but compared to you? They had been fun, exciting even, you–you were dangerous. When those girls had entered his life, he knew they'd eventually leave and he didn't mind that. That's why he'd kept all those moments to himself, why he never told Morgan or Penelope or even Emily. The things he'd done just so he could keep you, of course he knew it wasn't rational. You'd eventually find a boyfriend and settle down and maybe that boyfriend would someday become a husband. He had always ignored the bile that built up whenever he thought about it, about losing you–because he wouldn't be giving you away, how could he if you were never his to begin with?

A week turned into a month and before he knew it, December was here, it had surprised him so much so, he thought surely a car must have hit him when he hadn't been looking.

The team noticed it, the deterioration. It was visible in both his physique and his mind. He couldn't focus on any of the cases they'd been given. It started off small, with his mind wandering, but as time went on, it became less and less easy to focus him again.

Hotch had emailed you professionally, explaining how you could take as much time as you'd needed and when you were ready to come back, the team would be waiting. Then he'd texted you unprofessionally and told you if there was anything you needed, he was one text or one phone call away.

You'd spent the past few weeks going to therapy. As soon as you'd left the office, you'd sat in your car for a while, contemplative. You'd started driving and your subconscious brought you to a personal health center. You had forced yourself out of the car and through the front doors, tears fell down as you entered. There were a few people in the waiting room, not including the receptionist.

"I–was wondering," you half said and half sniffled, "if you had any walk-ins."

They had one, but you'd have to wait for about an hour, and you did. You spoke to a woman, thankfully, it was easier for you to let out all your faults, all the times you'd cried, all the times you had felt you were a horrible human being, all because of one person, but then again this obsession wasn't at all on Spencer.

And it wasn't all on you either, your therapist, whom you called your saving grace from time to time, explained that because you had built up all of your emotions, and there had been a number of them, you kind of just broke. Which was on parr with the way you'd been feeling.

She'd asked to see the notebook you kept, but you had left the thing in the drawer of your office, you'd cursed yourself. You had no idea how much Spencer had read, but he must have read it because there was no other way he'd known exactly how you were feeling, and if there was any chance he'd go back to read any more–that was if he hadn't read the entire thing already–well, you'd wanted to prevent that.

"What are you feeling?" The therapist had asked, "would you rather write it down?" She'd slid over her notepad and pen.

You'd taken it willingly and had stared at the blank space for a moment, and then–all at once–conversations and small gestures and intimate moments flooded your system, it had been 9 in the morning, and the curtains had been closed and the regular light turned off; a lamp and candle directly across form each other had been the only things to keep the room from complete darkness.

The words left your mind faster than you could write, but you did and when you filled a page, you'd flipped it over, no longer crying, but focussed, and when you were done, you'd taken a breath. You had ignored the uncomfortable feeling of the therapist analyzing you, it was her job as it was yours, yet you'd still felt yourself shift under her gaze.

"Can I see?" She'd asked and you'd handed over the paper and pen, though hesitantly.

And it took her breath away, just as you had known it would, as it had no doubt took Spencer's.

It was almost a year's worth of grieving, and yet you had not idea what you were even thinking about. How could you mourn something that wasn't dead? It's not dead because it was never alive. You'd thought.

Unrequited love. One of the most painful types of love, yet when it came to Spencer–there was something more. You'd told her, "it's not just that," she'd nodded, encouraging you to continue and her patient eyes reached something in your heart, and just barely, you felt it mend.

You saw her the next day with an appointment, and they you a few days later, you saw her again. You grew accustomed to seeing her twice a week, and you'd even grown acquainted with some of the staff, the receptionist especially. They had multiple therapists who specialized in different areas, yours, thankfully, focussed on personal growth.

The weather transformed before you eyes and before you knew it, it was the first of December. You'd stepped out of your house and took in the fresh air, it was one of the firsts in a long time that you had felt truly okay, that you didn't feel like the world would come crashing down around you, and better, that you didn't wish for it to happen anymore.

You'd texted Hotch two days ago, you hadn't known if he was on a case or not, but it had been Saturday and your hope peaked through. Throughout the rest of October and all of November, the team had messaged you multiple times, checking in to see if you were okay. You didn't have the energy to respond at the time, but a few weeks after seeing your therapist, you'd texted each and every one of them, save for one geeky genius.

You had notably not received any messages from Spencer, and it used to send a dull ache through you, but now it only made you swallow. You missed him, missed his company, but not seeing him was a step forward, your therapist had said you needed time and space away from him particularly, and you knew she was right. Your subconscious had been telling you the same thing for weeks before Spencer read your journal.

Thankfully, Hotch wasn't on a case, and he did pick up, when you'd told him to come over, he knew something was up, for better or worse, he didn't know, but you were speaking again, and to him no less. You'd asked if he could bring Jack, you had a lot of apologizing to do to the little guy for cancelling on him.

Hotch had alluded in messages that Jack asked about you whenever a babysitter that wasn't you came over, though he never outright wrote that the kid missed you because he'd known it wasn't fair to you. You were thankful, but you still felt guilty.

That day, you'd turned on The Magic School Bus for Jack and kept a careful eye on him while you and Hotch sat at your kitchen stools and spoke quietly in the background. "How is he?" You'd asked, trying to start the conversation light.

"He's fine," Hotch had replied, "...he misses you." He didn't say 'you and Spencer', which told you he knew.

How? It was Hotch, of course he knew.

"How are you?"

You'd turned your head back to him, a small, but sad smile falling over your face. "Better."

He'd nodded, tight-lipped, "good."

"I want to come back to work," he'd let out a breath and were it not for his eyes, you would have never known he'd felt relieved.

His mouth quirked upward slightly, and a crooked grin–a rare sight from Aaron Hotchner, indeed–filled the no longer anxious silence.

Your first day back at work, a Monday, December 3rd. It was tense at first, and you thought you might tuck tail and run when you saw Spencer, but you didn't, if anything you felt lighter. Maybe now, you could mend your friendship, that's what your therapist had said was the best course of action if you wanted to still be friends with him, though you didn't have much of a choice, you worked with the man.

You didn't avoid him, and the team at first, wondered what you had spent the last few weeks doing. Hotch had returned to your house Sunday to give you an eval, and you had passed with average colors, but he had cleared you. That was all that mattered.

Spencer didn't know what to make of your abrupt return, he hadn't been expecting it and for some reason he felt Hotch was punishing him...slightly. He thought you'd go back to avoiding him, but you didn't. You didn't seek him out like you used to, but you no longer evaded his questions or averted your eyes when he spoke to you.

He felt the wight in his chest lessen, and as time went on you were slowly falling back into your normal routine, but you still loved him, despite yourself, and he still loved JJ, and you came to accept that. If this was as close as you could be to him, you were okay.

And who knows? Maybe as time went by, you'd be able to move on. Your heart warmed and gently, you felt it mend again. Quietly, but efficiently, your heart was righting itself.

A week went by, and then two. You were talking with Hotch in his office about what Jack wanted for Christmas, and he was asking if you'd wanted to take Jack to see Santa with him. The others had already agreed to go, Spencer included, it was quite obvious the kid looked up to him; it still sent a flutter through your body, beginning at your toes, till it hit you head and you felt dazed. Spencer would be an amazing father, whoever he married–and he would...marry one day, you were sure of that–would be the luckiest person on earth–and his kids, well, they'd be blessed by angels.

"Oh shit," you stopped, frowning at the looming darkness that greeted you at the exit of the Bureau.

A snort came from behind you, "yeah, I thought you'd say that." Spencer sighed, halting beside you. You tilted your head upward, your small smile adjacent to his. "I guess some things never change."

You huffed a laugh, smacking him in the chest, "whatever, come on my knight and shining armor."

Hotch watched from his office window as Spencer followed you out to the carpark, like he had all those years ago, and briefly, he wondered if Spencer was going to tell you now. He clicked his tongue, remembering the not so pleasant discussion he and the team had with him concerning you after your return.

They had more or so laid into him, Hotch, though, kept his comments to himself, knowing he didn't have the power to control the actions of others, but maybe, just maybe, fate did. He didn't believe in ghosts, but Rossi talked about them sometimes, and even he had to admit, the setting before him was a little too coincidental.

You waddled to your car like a penguin, making Spencer laugh, you loved his laugh, you always would. "So," he stopped at your car, leaning against it with those doe eyes–a gift to him and perhaps a curse to you.

"So?" You raised a brow, unlocking your car and shrugging your bag into the driver seat.

"There's this showing..." he cleared his throat, "it's uhm," he chuckled nervously, feeling his palms sweat, somehow the universe had known. It must have, he was a logical person, a scientific one, and being one he knew scientists had not yet debunked the theory of fate, normal people called them "happy coincidences" and/or "happy accidents". They were two different words, but both phrases held the same meaning.

"What language is it this time?" You sighed, but you were teasing.

"It–uh, it's in Italian," he cleared his throat and your heart boomed.

"Oh," you nodded, "sure I'd love to go."

He would have said 'really?', but it was you, and you had been so agreeable these past weeks, He was hopeful, but nervous because what if you did say no? What if he said the wrong thing without knowing it and you left again? He couldn't' loose you, not this time.

It was now or never and he knew it, the entire team had coerced him to a dinner where they half ate and half lectured him the entirety they were there.

"It's so obvious," Emily had sighed.

"Look pretty boy, I'm not one to butt into other people's business, but seriously..." Morgan had shaken his head.

And where Morgan stopped, Rossi had picked up, "did you lose your brain over night?" He'd poked Spencer's head, muttering something in Italian, but Spencer knew Italian, and he had to agree, yes, he was ignorant.

JJ, Spencer sighed when he thought about what JJ had said, "If you love her, Spence," she'd also reached out to grab his hand, holding it down on the table, "then she deserves to know."

"She's my best friend," he had squeaked out.

"Oh, sweetie," Penelope had watched him with sad eyes and a sad smile to match, "we know."

"Spencer?" You raised a brow, an awkward smile perfecting the confused expression you wore.

"Sorry," he muttered, "just..."

"Yeah...what-t?" You shivered and began rubbing your arm to warm yourself up.

"Your cold?" He couldn't believe it, but unlike that time years ago, he wasn't waring a sweater. In fact, he wondered if you still had that one. It was his favorite at the time, but when you'd tried giving it back, he'd insisted you keep it.

At the time he'd excused it as being a germaphobe, but now, he thought it might've been something more. When his eyes shifted to yours, your heart–you could swear it stopped beating. His eyes had softened and he was looking at you with something you couldn't coherently explain.

"When did you know you loved me?"

You took a step back, the question hitting you like the cold wind slapping across your face. "I–"

"I think for me, it was after I got better, after you helped me get clean. Well, at least that's when I started taking into account my off behavior." He rambled a little.

"What?" Your breath hitched, how could he spring this on you so suddenly? How–how–"what?"

He paused, eyes finding yours again, disbelief and maybe anger? He expected as much, he was telling you this after all you'd been going through, but the thing he couldn't understand was why. Why did you think there was no possibility that he could like you back? Why–if you had loved him for so long–did it just–a year ago–start breaking your heart?

He called your name and took a step forward, "what gave you the impression, that I didn't love you back?" If he had know–only if he had known you'd been going through this, that he'd been breaking your heart–that you loved him...

You turned away, tears–God you were so tired of crying. "You said–that night you were blackout drunk on the bridge, that you loved her." You took a shuttering breath, twisting your body to look at him again–knowing this was more than likely going to ruin your friendship for good. "You called her your best. Friend. Spencer...and I," you motioned toward yourself, "I knew I would never compare and I had kept my feelings hidden for so long that I didn't even know what I was feeling–"

"Whoa, what?" He held up a hand, "what–what are you talking about?" His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, recalling a memory, he had alway thought he'd been dreaming whenever it came to them.

Over the weeks after, it had come back to him in sections, as he'd pieced together the parts one by one, he had come to the conclusion that he must have dreamt it up because–because JJ wasn't there that night. She had some plans with Will, or something, he couldn't really remember.

It had to be a dream, because he couldn't have confessed his love for you to JJ–she wasn't at the bar that night–but if what you were saying was true–no it didn't–it didn't–and then it smacked him in the face.

"I–" he closed his eyes, laughing almost hysterically, "I was talking about you." His voice cracked and he shook his head, running his hands over his face. He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it.

"What–" you sniffled, "what are you talking about?"

He caught his breath, tears falling down his cheek as his face crumbled and he wiped them away, loathing himself more than he ever had before, "I thought–" his breathing was heavy now and you could hear the straining–the thickness strangled together as he forced it out, "I thought you were JJ."

Step, you took a step, and then another until you stood in front of your best friend. The sound echoed across the dark, silent lot, though the wind was picking up again. The cheek you'd slapped burned red, Spencer looked like an owl–a deer caught in headlights, if you will–face turned to the side, mouth agape, eyes wide with shock.

Slowly, he let his head drift back toward you, you were already waiting for his eyes to find yours. You wanted to hit him some more, to take your pent up frustration out on him, but you only had energy for a single slap tonight. A slap, and a kiss.

You pulled him down by his collar, your eyes closing upon impact. He tasted of coffee and smelled like olde books and leather, like you knew he always did. If only you had known, but you couldn't change the past, you could only move forward.

"So, where do you wanna meet?" You asked him when you pulled away. He blinked, and you smirked, eyes narrowing slightly, "for the showing."

His eyes lit up and he pulled you closer, wrapping his long arms around your torso, breathing you in like you just might disappear before his eyes if he didn't.

You giggled as his breath tickled your skin, tears long forgotten, and your heart full as it once had been.

a/n: if you're a writer, don't proof read your angst fics

[shewolfofvilnius]

Jordana Mercar ("Rook") x Bellara Romance Headcanons and Notes

Rook has feelings for Bellara almost immediately, but between the whole 'end of the world' thing, the crisis with Bellara's brother Cyrian, and the fact that Rook is technically Bellara's boss, she's hesitant.

Rook also assumes that Bellara doesn't reciprocate at first, either because she's just not interested - or because Rook is a human from Tevinter, a group not always exactly known as a friend to elves.

It takes Bellara a little longer to start to develop feelings for Rook, but when she does, it's sincere. Bellara however assumes that Rook just likes her as a good friend who likes spending time with her and who delights in pointing out Bel's positive qualities.

Neve, who practically considers Bellara a sister and Rook her best friend, is the first of the squad to clue in to the growing attraction between the pair, and tries desperately to encourage both. She and Lucanis lie to Rook slightly at first to see where Jordana's head is regarding romance (They'd actually hit it off almost immediately but kept it secret for a time) - while the serials she brings Bellara are increasingly romantic in nature, and frequently center on things like warrior princesses and heroic lady knights - and even a scandalous story about a Tevinter soldier who fell in love with a Dalish keeper. All of these serials feature happy endings, even the couple Neve had to have re-written herself. (Remember too: The scene directly preceding the romance softlock directly involves Neve, and is referenced in the softlock scene.)

Taash and Harding both figure it out soon thereafter as well, Taash picking up on the massive hormone and pheromone changes in both Rook and Bel and other markers, and Harding bc she knows Rook the longest/best even if Rook's closer to Neve (and Varric told her most of his secrets, one of which was Rook's 'tells'). They get involved in trying to set Rook and Bellara up too, and wind up hitting it off themselves (the opposite of the other two)

SIDEBAR: Neve and Taash talking about Rook and Bellara is how they get into the convo about Taash and gender stuff that Rook interrupts.

They both realize they're genuinely in love at the same moment. Rook is trying to comfort Bellara, who is horrified both that she might have to kill Cyrian - and that she might fall victim to the same manipulation he did. Bellara is snapped out of it by laughter when Rook notes the strict 'no turning evil' policy, and playfully teases her. It occurs to Bellara that Rook might just love her, for herself. Might just care about her just as much as Cyrian - but in a different way. She notices that there's something else in the look Rook gives her.

Seeing Bellara brokenhearted and down on herself hurts Rook in a way that she had never anticipated. Bel was amazing, how could she not see that? And yeah, Cyrian appeared to be heading down a dark road, but that was a choice. And dammit, Bellara's friends weren't going to let her go down that road.

Rook thought for a moment. She loved seeing Bellara's eyes light up when she was 'rambling' about whatever she was passionately invested in that moment. Loved seeing the joy in her spirit at a new discovery. The surprise adventurous spirit, that each new ruin to explore was a new challenge, and that there was ALWAYS a new way to approach an old problem.

It already would have been anyway because of Solas' betrayal plus Harding presumably dying (plus learning the truth of Varric's death plus "a few weeks blurring into 45 minutes") but to say the day Elgar'nan kidnapped Bellara was the worst of her life is an understatement.

That said, it was also the day/weeks that Rook, that Jordana, resolved herself. If she got Bellara back, Maker willing if she got Bellara back (however weird it is to pray to the Maker now), she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Bellara. Be it a day, a century, exploring ruins, you name it.

She promises as long as there is breath in her lungs and the beat of her heart, she is going to kill Elgar'nan for this - and any remaining willingness to reason with Solas went out the window after learning weeks had passed. Weeks with Bel in Elgar'nan's clutches. Having become her worst fear, having become to Elgar'nan far worse than even what Cyrian was to Anaris.

Rook notices the extensive degree to which Bellara is blighted, and is already making plans for them both to join the Grey Wardens. She'll do anything to keep Bellara alive, and to be with her for as long as Bel will have her. Davrin, Antoine, and Evka are already onboard, and Rook herself had ordered the Ostagar Joining Chalice and "as much stuff as you can carry" hauled out as they fled Weisshaupt.

Both Rook and Bellara know that their time together may be limited to a matter of hours. Bellara assumes that Rook wouldn't even so much as look at her blighted like this, but is joyful to receive such a warm hug (and had noticed earlier the care at which Rook had cradled her after recovering Bel from Elgar'nan).

Here, when Bellara sees Rook drinking in every single moment that she's alive and with Bel, she pushes back that Elgar'nan and the Blight still sing to her, loosens his control that much more.

That first night back at the Lighthouse is majestic. Never in her existence has Bellara felt more truly cared for. They didn't even 'do anything'; Rook was still nursing broken ribs and a hurt shoulder, and Bellara emotionally wasn't ready. But the kiss. She'll never, ever forget the kiss. Will never forget the warmth and tenderness of laying by her love's side.

She made SO much progress writing her serial the next day.

The music room had never let anyone other than Jordana and Emmrich into it - the latter because he had been her music teacher at the piano. On the day after, Bellara was shocked when it's doors opened for the first time for her.

Three weeks later is the first. Only one detail from that night - "Some things are better left to the imagination" - makes it into Bellara's serials: Rook is ticklish just above the small of her back.

Although Bellara has noticeable blight scars, and Rook and Bellara keep in touch with the Grey Wardens, Bellara's blighting seems to have disappeared save only for the scarring. Bellara's worry that Rook won't love her changed appearance were quelled the same night they kissed for the very first time - Rook loves Bellara. Bellara loves Rook No matter what. Even when they're withered and grey and laughing at each other watching the sun set. Or dying together in a trapped ruin. Or with the Wardens if it comes to that.

Bellara means it truly when she calls Rook her eternal waking dream. In a billion years, she never could have fathomed meeting someone who would cherish her - even for the things others considered faults - so utterly and truly. Rook is both her anchor and yet also a mythic dream figure. Surely someone so kind and loving can't be real. But she is.

Jordana wonders if she was ever truly alive before meeting Bellara. She settles on "not really".

Bellara meets Rook's father six weeks after Elgar'nan is destroyed, and right as the new Magisterium is debating who will be named the new Imperator (commander of the military). Legatus Mercar is one of the lead candidates.

Bel and Rook's mutual insecurities kick in when the Legatus' opponent tries to use Jordana and Bellara's relationship against the Elder Mercar - with the aid of Jordana's mother and the Legatus' now soon-to-be-ex-wife.

Bellara understands where Rook 'gets it from' ("I AM adopted, Bellara, I told you this." / "I know. He's still your dad, though.") when the Legatus sings the praises of his daughter, the "Slayer of Lusacan", and the love of his daughter’s life on the floor of the Magisterium. And suggests that if Minrathous can't handle being saved by a soporati woman and her elf girlfriend that just perhaps the city should be left to burn.

Charon Mercar (Rook's father) is named Imperator, but is stunned to learn that Rook plans to join the largely-Dalish Veil Jumpers as a senior advisor. Between her experience killing Elgar'nan, setting up Ghilan'nain's death, and tricking Fen'Harel, Rook has very specific experience - and both Rook and Bel just want to go off and explore ruins and artefacts together.

Rook admits privately that "Tevinter helped destroy so much of who the elves were AFTER the Evanuris were locked away. Maybe it's time some of us help them see what can be recovered - and what's worth recovering."

Bellara and Rook get married in a slightly modified Dalish ceremony one year to the day after that first kiss in the Lighthouse. Although Sylaise is no longer asked to watch over their aravels and the other Evanuris are dropped, the main beats of the ceremony remain the same.

Although Bel is no longer formally member of a clan, Rook has to go through the ritual of 'proving herself' to the Veil Jumpers instead, with Irelin (Bellara's ex) being the final arbiter. ("No, the slaying of the Ancient Gods does not count, Rook. We know Bellara's heart, now you must show us yours.")

On the first three attempts, Rook is rejected. She found an improbably lost relic by herself and got it operational, she delivered several baby halla, and - after learning from the Inquisitor that Templar magic could sometimes heal tears in the Veil, offered to have an entire squadron of Imperial Templars mend some of the Veil's damage in Arlathan created by Tevinter so many years ago.

When that didn't work ("no one here wants to see a hundred tevinter templars in full armour in Arlathan Forest, rook"), Jordana changed tactics as she noted Bellara's now visible tears at Irelin's continued refusals. Rook had had enough, catching the entire camp off-guard. "Irelin, let's be clear about this. If Bellara tells me to jump into a volcano, I will. If she tells me to leave, I'll be out the door. Until that day, she is the woman I love, and her word is law. I've done all I can to respect all your traditions AND to try to help, but Irelin, I killed Elgar'nan when he tried to hurt Bellara. You're making her cry right now, what do you think is headed your way if you keep up with this petty crap?" Irelin withdrew her objection.

Bellara later tells Rook that her standing up to Irelin so forcefully definitely, definitely resulted in a "Powerful - but this time not even remotely contained - tingle."

[azaracyy]

to the next stage of our adventure! digimon survive week 2024 day 7: post-game / future personal thoughts under the cut - less about the artwork and more about shuuji and lopmon themselves. a long rambling containing major spoilers and heavy topics. will cause whiplash. proceed with caution.

other than the fact this may be boring and long-winded, cw and tw: there will be mentions of self-harm and suicide. if these topics make you uncomfortable, please step back. if you're sure, then alright. i'm aware this is a weird place to ramble about shuuji and lopmon considering the notorious highlight of their story would match the themes of day 5 (villains) and day 6 (dark & loss) better. unfortunately (ironically?) i never planned to feature them for those days, so... pretty sure i'm not the only one feeling this, but when i discovered that a good part of the fandom seems to loathe shuuji with utmost passion, even after they claimed to have completed the game, i was confused. the way his death happened and (understanding) the cause made me uncomfortable for a while, but never drove me to the point of hate... once i recovered from the initial shock, what i felt towards him was more pity, then respect (on truthful route). i feel shuuji should have been one of the most appreciated characters in survive. yet it was the opposite that happened. (between you and me though, knowing there was this discourse with the fact digimon survive is a visual novel, i'm not that surprised it turned out this way...) from my point of view, lopmon evolving into wendimon then killing shuuji symbolizes suicide, the act of taking one's own life. it was the climax of shuuji's mental breakdown, leading him to basically self-destruct, causing damage to everyone around him and ultimately himself. lopmon evolved, just like he hoped. but failed to do it like other kemonogami partners (maintaining control of themselves and fending off enemies). the next and final outcome was death, through his own partner actually eating him alive too. it reminds me how when someone thought they have prepared well for something important yet it failed spectacularly, the devastation and frustration would eat them in the same way from inside. and they probably would for one second think, "i'm better off dead". the more i pondered about it, the more it hit home, so of course, the last thing i could do is hate him, when his struggles sound similar to my own - having to rely on consistent achievements to prove your value, to feel you are worth living and not a waste of resources. the part where shuuji went all abusive on lopmon felt like the equivalent of pushing yourself to the extreme to reach your goal, to the point of neglecting your own needs. it's like a student so absorbed in their study, sacrificing food and sleep, until their body eventually snaps and shuts down for good (...this in fact happened to one of the students at my previous workplace. she was in her last year of high school. life was just about to truly start for her when her classmate informed us of her sudden death). even in truthful route where shuuji and lopmon survive that point, things aren't immediately nice and easy for him. you can see that he still has self-doubts, and what i think is impostor's syndrome. he could be making a great contribution to the team and still put himself down for having done "nothing". i have found it interesting that artists and writers tend to be especially fond of shuuji. so perhaps it's not just the matter of one's upbringing - whether you were raised in a harsh, competitive environment and/or with family with (unreasonably) high standards so you can relate more easily to him - but also whether one can see just what every struggle shuuji and lopmon went through symbolizes shuuji's mental state. out of all survive characters, i think shuuji and lopmon pulled off this thing called "surviving" the hardest, no joke. which is why i almost always gravitate to drawing them happy because that's what they deserve :') after all this, what i also would like to say is, it's okay if a character makes you uncomfortable. it's okay if you hate a character. but never, ever bring down the character to people who like them or even consider them their favorite or comfort character. if you must, do it in your own space and only with like-minded people.

[coochellati]

Hi! How is it going, I hope you are doing well ❤️This is not a deep question but what kind of drink/s do you think Bruno would most enjoy and ones he would avoid (alcoholic or not)? He looks like someone that would enjoy limoncello a lot for example but I can't see him being a beer guy.

Hi!!! Good to hear from you!! Thank you for checking in; all things considered, I’m doing well right now!

Ooh, this is a fun question… Funnily enough, I’ve given quite a bit of thought to this in the past. Buckle up, because I’ve got a bunch of beverage headcanons for you!

Without further ado, here’s my take… (under the break)

I imagine Bruno isn’t a huge drinker when it comes to alcohol. (As you said, he’s definitely not a beer guy.) Most of the time, he prefers to keep a sharp, clear mind, ready for whatever may come his way. That said, it doesn’t stop him from appreciating a good glass of wine. Wine is such a key part of Italian culture that it’s hard to picture Bruno not enjoying it. (In fact, I headcanon that Bruno is actually pretty passionate about the subject of wine—we’ll get to that in a bit.) He drinks it for the taste rather than the effect it gives.

(Figure 1: Bruno having wine.)

Because he doesn’t usually like being inebriated, he limits himself to small amounts—typically just a glass with a meal. On days off, however, he may enjoy a bit more wine than he usually does. Even though Bruno enjoys red wine, I feel like he leans more toward white wine, with a special fondness for sparkling varieties. He’s not a huge fan of a ton of fizz, though, so he goes for older sparkling wines where the bubbles have softened a bit.

I like to think Bruno has a good understanding of wine, largely thanks to Polpo’s influence. Whether he wanted to or not, Bruno surely picked up knowledge from Polpo, who, being the foodie he is, likely gave plenty of unsolicited lectures about wine. Bruno absorbed more than enough to discuss things like aging processes or which years produced the best vintages.

I also imagine Bruno’s interest in wine began because of Polpo’s constant ramblings. It’s not that Bruno had negative feelings toward wine before meeting him; he probably just didn’t think much of it, especially as a twelve-year-old. I can picture Polpo launching into a long-winded explanation about wine or food before delivering some important assignment with Bruno thinking, “If it were really important, you wouldn’t spend this much time talking about wine.”

But that forced exposure grew into genuine interest, and now Bruno has become passionate about it. Picture him excitedly sharing wine facts with a partner or someone he cares about, then catching himself mid-sentence and apologizing for rambling. (He’ll think back to his conversations with Polpo and wonder if he’s overstepping his boundaries.) But, of course, his partner reassures him that it’s okay. I like to think Bruno tends to ramble about things he’s passionate about since he didn’t have much chance to express his interests growing up. So, when he gets the chance, he dives in a bit too deep, almost by accident.

He probably has a decent collection of wines with a few rare or expensive bottles. However, Bruno isn’t the type to splurge, so most of the high-end bottles were likely gifts. He saves them for special occasions.

Now that you bring it up, I can also see Bruno being a limoncello drinker. I’ve never had it before, but it looks pretty good. Based on its description, I too think Bruno would like it.

As for coffee, I imagine Bruno enjoys espresso—or “caffé,” as Italians call it. It’s not an everyday thing, but when he does indulge, it’s usually a plain shot of espresso. (Occasionally, he treats himself to a caffé latte or cappuccino.) He avoids drinking too much, as he doesn’t like the jittery feeling caffeine can bring. If he’s close with someone, he’d probably prefer sipping from their coffee rather than ordering his own.

Bruno doesn’t strike me as someone who’d enjoy soda (or pop, depending on where you’re from). As mentioned, he’s not fond of fizzy drinks, and soda is not only fizzy but also loaded with calories, which wouldn’t appeal to him.

When asking @cornerfortherats this question to see her take on this ask, she wrote that she could also see him enjoying “Iced tea and those sugar-free mix drinks. (Think like kool-aid. Particularly the blue raspberry one.) In my mind, he buys the really weird flavored ones to try for fun because they’re relatively cheap and on occasion his reaction is just this:”

(I really like this headcanon too.)

Of course, Bruno drinks plain water too. He knows how important it is to stay hydrated and tries to keep up with it. But, with how busy he is, it’s not unusual for him to forget sometimes.

Thank you for the ask! This question was super fun to answer! <3

[blonde-love]

Rings with a promise sealed with wine…

Summary: An old friend of Larissa's visits her office, reminiscing about an old promise that unfolds in a night of love, passion, and wine.

Warnings: Smut, cunnilingus, I don’t know(?)

Parts of the story:

Rings with a promise sealed with wine… [1].

Rings with a promise sealed with wine… [2]. Soon.

Rings with a promise sealed with wine… [Extra]. Soon.

Author's Note: Hello, I'm sorry if this writing is a disaster, actually English is not my first language and this is my first fanfic, but I hope I have done a decent work… any constructive criticism is really appreciated! There is also an extra part of this that I don't know if you want to read...

The academy had changed since the last time you had visited it, although it still maintained most of its essence, there were small modifications here and there, which made sense considering the many years that had passed since then. You had evolved, so it was logical that the place would too, especially under Larissa's command now.

You sighed remembering her, wondering how she would have become too, thinking that surely she would still be that beautiful and intriguing lady with light hair and blue eyes as when she was young all those years ago...

You were a few years younger than Larissa, but you had met her at one of her speeches at the academy. She was always as upright and neat a student as she could be, so she quickly caught your eye when you saw her, just perfect. You chatted a bit when it was over, she presumably proud of her work, saying that you could do the same if you tried hard enough, so you really pushed yourself to make it through a few years later even though she wasn't around to see it…

You stood in front of the door that had her name engraved on it, looking doubtful as you raised your fist to knock, biting your bottom lip uncertainly. You finally filled yourself with so much courage as you could before knocking on the door a few times, overly nervous as a couple of seconds passed in silence that felt like eternal centuries until a voice was finally heard inside.

“Come in”. A beautiful voice called out, so you followed the lead, walking into Larissa's office, looking at her, she sitting at her desk.

You let out a longing breath when you finally looked at her; her hair tied beautifully, an almost whitish blonde, while her blue eyes moved reading the text on the paper in her hands, wearing a beautiful elegant dress...

“Good evening... To what do I owe your pleasant visit?”. She asked as she finally put the document in her hands to the side to look at you, realizing that you weren't one of her students, snapping you out of your trance, jumping slightly in place and finally closing the door behind you.

“Good evening, Ri-… Lari-… Principal Weems”. You said, regretting using that nickname or her name, too scared of how things would evolve between you after so many years.

Larissa's eyes narrowed as she heard you hesitate, being too familiar to her, not knowing exactly where she'd seen you from before. Nearly three decades was too long to remember properly.

“I... I come to visit, I don't know if you would like to see me... I...”. You started to ramble, until she interrupted you.

“I know you?”. She asked almost like a sigh that the wind would have carried away if you hadn't been so nervously attentive to her.

“Y-Yeah... I mean… yes... you might not recognize me now”. You muttered foolishly, shyly approaching her desk, swallowing hard and removing a ring from your thumb, placing it on Larissa's desk.

The older one looked at it skeptically for a few seconds, not understanding why you would leave it there until she realized that in fact the original owner of the object was her.

“[Y/n]”. She called your name under her breath, knowing who you were then, since the ring had been given to you so many years ago as the seal of a promise that both would fulfill your goals no matter what obstacles stood in the way when you consoled her to try to push aside her negative feelings about she comparing herself to Morticia.

“Yes…”.

“You… you don’t…”. She looked at you without finding the right words, getting up from her seat to approach you, placing that ring back on her index finger.

When she was close to you, you took a step back due to her imposing figure. You remembered her being tall, but not that tall, especially with the heels she normally didn't wear when she used her school uniform so long ago.

“What are you doing here?”. She finally asked, looking at you with those blue eyes that you had fallen in love with when you were in high school.

It took you a moment to answer, because you simply couldn't, with the sight of that ethereal woman in front of you, who had become the most beautiful person in the world over the years if she wasn’t before.

“[Y/n]”. She called, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently and bringing you back to the ground.

“Ah… yes… That…”. You stuttered for a moment, before taking a deep breath, looking up at her burning fireplace. “The promise... remember?”.

“The promise…”. Larissa repeated almost mechanically, looking at the ring before returning her gaze to you once more…

“I came to return it… you said that was the deal when we exchanged them… that we would return them once we both met our goals…”. You remembered, looking at the hands of the taller woman.

“Oh… I-I… had forgotten…”. She confessed, and that's when you realized that she wasn't wearing any ring besides the one you just gave her, proof of her words, evidence that she hadn't considered you as you did for her during all those years.

“I…”. The words caught in your throat, feeling partially disappointed by that, taking another step back. “Yeah... sorry, that must have been a young joke...”. You shrugged, trying to downplay the importance it clearly held to you, the woman clenching her jaw as she realized you really did take it seriously.

“[Y/n], listen…”. She tried to say, but you shook your head.

“No, I understand. Still, I couldn't stay with that, it's too expensive… Anyway, I'm glad that apparently things turned out well for you, becoming the director of Nevermore is impressive”. You assured, a smile on your lips, tightening your grip on your bag.

Silence reigned in the room, discomfort running through your body, looking down at the floor after a few seconds.

“That was all... At the entrance they told me that you were a little busy, maybe I shouldn't interrupt you anymore”. You said, with the best smile you could get in that situation. “It was good to see you again, Weems”. You turned, walking in the direction of the exit before she stopped you, placing a hand on your wrist and pulling you back.

“Wait a second…”. She asked, acting on instinct more than logic, getting you to turn once more to look at her. “You… grew up…”. She muttered seeing your appearance.

That would be a logical statement, almost bordering on the absurd, but not for her at that moment, since upon seeing you more closely she realized that you had indeed changed and, just like her, you had become a woman, so beautiful in her eyes, going against the image she had of you, because when she thought of you, usually had in mind the face of a young adolescent, a little clumsy and distracted, not an attractive woman.

A small laugh escaped your lips at her, smiling genuinely at her this time. “You too”.

“Sorry... Would you like to stay and chat a bit and have some wine, perhaps?”. She proposed, tempted to touch your face for a moment before dropping her hand without even getting close enough to you.

“It would be a pleasure... if you're not too busy, of course”. You muttered, to which she smiled softly.

“I'm not”. That was a lie she hoped you wouldn't find out. “Come on, sit down”. She requested, pointing to a seat near her fireplace, walking to a cabinet until she pulled out a bottle and a couple of glasses, placing them on the table in front of the sofas.

You sat down, analyzing her movements as she served you; her hips as she walked to reach the bottle, her hands as she performed each of her actions... You ended up looking away in embarrassment. You weren't a teenager to go on with that.

“Here you have”. She said, handing you the glass of liquor, erasing her insecurities about her invitation by looking at you once more like an adult, sitting next to you before taking a small sip from her own glass.

“Thank you…”. You said shyly, your lips moving closer to the glass and drinking too.

Larissa stared at your mouth perhaps more than necessary, noticing that you were wearing some lipstick and realizing that she had never seen you use it before, when you were young you always clinging to the idea that you didn't need it.

“Mmm… the wine you drink is quite good…”. You said, savoring the taste, she blinking a few times in bewilderment, blushing as she realized she'd been staring longer than she should have.

“I have good taste. I guess you became a doctor considering the return from a few minutes ago”. She communicated, referring to the ring you had given her, to which you nodded.

“Yeah, actually for a couple of months, but it took me a while to find you… that was until I talked to Morticia. I ran into her by chance... well... not so much... her daughter broke into my work area last year's vacation to try to remove some pieces that we had preserved in formaldehyde, but those are minor details”. I narrated while remembering the incident, drinking a little more.

“Oh… Wednesday Addams…”. She muttered, placing her fingers on the bridge of her nose with a frustrated expression.

“She entered this year to study here, right?”.

“Unfortunately... It's been a disaster... Morticia must have been simply incapable of raising a decent daughter...”. She commented with annoyance, taking a longer sip of wine before pouring more for both of them.

“It's just an Addams, I guess”. You said, remembering so many things about her parents in their student days. “Maybe she inherited some of Morticia's... particular charm...”.

“I still don't understand what you saw of her when we were young”. She announced out of nowhere, quite confusing you.

“To Morticia?”. You asked in confusion, tilting your head to one side for a moment.

“Yes, you were crazy about her in high school as I remember”. That confused you even more.

“She's always had her thing, but I didn't like Morticia. When I was younger I was more into blonde girls, you know”. You commented without thinking, deeply embarrassed as you realized your own words.

“Blondes?”. She asked, to which you nodded sheepishly. Larissa had always thought you had a crush on Morticia with all your frequent visits to their bedroom, but the black-haired girl wasn't the real reason you went to the Ophelia Hall.

“Something like that... well... actually my experience with people was almost null since I was in love with the same person for many years”. You commented, laughing a little at yourself, now you being the one who poured some liquor to both of you, nervously drinking from your glass.

“Oh my… I didn't know you had a date in high school”. Larissa said impressed, moving closer to you with interest on the subject.

“I didn't, I never really told her”. You shrugged, downplaying the matter. “She was a couple of years older than me, and she probably never would have seen me as more than her... admirer to put it in a way”.

“Aw dear... What year was she in? Did I know her?”. She asked, both taking another drink, to which you nodded your head.

“She was from your generation actually… and I'm sure you knew her pretty well”. You muttered, giving a couple of faint hints, to which Larissa thought, trying to remember as many blonde girls that were her age as she could.

“Rose?” She asked and you denied, drinking some more. “Miranda?”. She suggested again, shaking your head once more and sipping your drink, following this pattern a few more times, Larissa pouring you some more liquor as she realized you'd finished it.

“I was more into… tall girls…”. You murmured softly, a soft blush on your cheeks from how little resistance you had to the alcohol and the nervous sips you were taking faster and faster.

“Tall girls…”. Larissa repeated, her mind wandering away from the answer, though somewhat closer than before.

“Yes… tall… blondes… blue-eyed… elegant…”. You said, drinking unaware of the fog that was beginning to build in your mind, placing a hand on the sofa as you leaned into her unaware. “Shapeshifter who gave speeches about the importance of introducing our society with normies”.

And that was when the realization hit Larissa like a bucket of cold water. “You…”.

“But she never realized...”. You repeated, about to take another drink when Larissa placed a hand on your wrist, drawing your attention to which you turned to her, noting the deep blush on her cheeks that reached her ears.

Of course it made sense when she thought about it, that girl's silly blushes when you were younger, how you refused to change with her at little sleepovers, how much you offered to help her no matter what she needed… the flattery, the discreet gifts…

“Oh look…”. You murmured noticing the reddish tinge on her ears, gently touching the skin with your fingers as you set the glass down on the table and approached without thinking. “They are red…”. You said innocently too close to her ear, your hot breath hitting her skin, causing a shiver to run through the older one, who placed one of her hands on your arm to stop you.

“Yeah…”. She admitted sheepishly, turning to look at you only to realize that you were both so close to each other, your ragged breaths mingling with each other.

“You smell like wine…”. You commented vaguely, to which she chuckled softly.

“You more than me, that is a fact…”. She said, realizing that your eyes rested on her lips for a moment, your hand coming down from her ear to rest against her cheek.

Larissa's heart began to beat faster, looking at your eyes as if they were the most expensive jewels in the world and then at your lips as if they were some more of that delicious drink you had been consuming during the night.

“Was it me you liked?”. She asked in the middle of the silence, to which you nodded gently.

“So much... You were so attractive, brilliant, perfect in every possible way of the word...”. You said softly, your voice somewhat hoarse. Larissa swallowed at the sound of you, that tone of voice making her feel things she never thought she would feel for you in her life.

“Do you still think so?”. She asked, almost in a low whisper, but you didn't answer, instead just sighing softly, smiling for brief moments before closing your eyes and leaning in, both lips brushing against each other in a kiss.

The older one moaned softly at the feel of your lips pressing against hers, closing her eyes and leaning in, reciprocating the show of affection, enjoying the taste of her favorite drink in your mouth, not thinking twice about receiving you when you straddled her, sitting on her thighs while she placed her hands on your waist, gently pressing you against her, she licking your lower lip, to which you opened your mouth gently, allowing her entry to savor you even more, letting out a lecherous moan as well.

After a few seconds, you both finally pulled away, gasping for air after the kiss, breathing heavily, both noticing the lipstick smudges on your lips, two different colors blending better in some places than others.

“Larissa...”. You called softly, your lips sliding down her neck like a light ghost, too intoxicated not only with the wine but with her, with her figure, her smell... her taste...

“Mmm… darling, I don't think I should have served you that last drink…”. She commented, clutching at your head and letting out an unholy moan as she felt your tongue snake around her neck.

“Perhaps, although I am glad to receive that extra courage…”. You murmured, licking her neck once more, she moaning softly, feeling your lips suck on her skin before she pulled your hair back.

“No visible hickeys, dear”. She announced, although it was already too late, since her skin now had a mark that she would have to cover later.

“Oops...”. You said with fake regret, your fingers slipping down the front of her dress, beginning to unbutton her clothing. “Perhaps I should find a more suitable place…”. Your pupils were dilated, staring longingly at Larissa's exposed breast, her red lace bra peeking out after letting go of a few buttons, your tongue beginning to lick the newly uncovered skin, leaving a hickey on one of her breasts now.

“Mmm... my dear, you are playing with fire right now, if you continue you must bear the consequences”. She warned, pressing harder into your hips.

“I'm curious to find out those consequences...”. You murmured, sucking once more on a second mark before soothing the skin with your tongue, gasping for air in a strangled moan as Larissa pressed down on you, her thigh between your legs. “Ah...!”.

You looked into Larissa's eyes, realizing that she was just as affected by the whole situation as you were, her eyes full of desire, leaning over your neck to begin to leave open-mouthed kisses on your skin.

“Do you really want that, naughty girl?”. She asked in your ear, watching you sway your hips against her thigh, nodding a couple of times at her question. “You really are quite a case…”.

“Rissa... please...”. There was that pretty nickname, coming out of your lips in a desperate way, too eager to feel it and to alleviate that pain that had been building between your legs for a while. The blonde hummed content to hear you, her hand sliding to the back of your dress to unzip it, letting it fall over your waist, exposing your black bra, she smiling to see you exposed like that, caressing your chest.

“Come, help me with this…”. She requested, to which you stood up for a moment to let your dress fall all the way around your feet, also exposing the matching panties, Larissa biting her lower lip at the sight of you.

Just as pretty as you were, Larissa taking no more time to grab your thighs and pull you up, her carrying you easily enough, devouring your lips once more with hunger, her tongue dipping in as if it had been done thousands of times before, your two bodies fitting in perfectly as she led you to her bedroom.

She released her lips only when she dropped you onto the bed, pulling away to lock the door before turning back to you, slipping out of her dress and heels.

You took a quick note from her room, obviously as elegant as her, but you had better business that mattered more to you right now, spreading your legs in a silent invitation to the woman who looked at you before stepping between them, her lips on yours for a few more seconds before caressing your thighs, pulling you apart with a moan when her fingers got too close to your center.

“[Y/n]”. She called to you softly, caressing the same place as before, causing another chill. “Do you really want this?”. She asked, though neither of you was exactly in the best state of lucidity, but she wanted confirmation of your consent anyway. She would never do anything you didn't want.

“Yes Rissa... do you want it?”. You asked, she kissing you softly on the lips before answering.

“Of course…”. She murmured, sliding her hand up your chest, you sitting up for a moment to undo your bra, letting your breasts fall for her to look at, Larissa letting out a breath as she looked at your nipples. They were hard, desperate for attention as much as the rest of your body, so it didn't take long for her to connect her mouth over one of them, licking the bud before sucking, leaving you with a pleasurable sensation and a moan, your hands on her back unclasping her bra too, she pulling away for a moment to take it off and toss it to any side of the room, letting your curious fingers touch her too, moaning when you pinched one of her nipples just the way you liked it.

But you both really needed more than that, so Larissa lowered her hand slowly over your body, running her fingers over your nipple, stroking gently before moving down your stomach, sucking gently on your neck, while letting your hands one on her head and another on her white sheets, she finally brushing her fingers over your clothed pussy.

“Look how wet it is here dear…”. She murmured running her fingers once more, drawing a pleasurable moan from you as she pressed more firmly on the bulge of your clit.

“Larissa… please…”. You begged softly, lifting your hips for more friction. You really needed her, more of her, all of her, but the woman placed her hand on your hip, anchoring you to the bed.

“Please what, dear?”. She asked, pretending she doesn’t knew what you wanted.

“Please Rissa… fuck me…”. You stretch your legs closer to her, pushing aside your panties to give her a glimpse of your bare pussy, completely wet from her. “Don't make me wait any longer after all these years… please…”. You begged again, a tender smile on the woman's lips as she leaned into you.

“Sure dear, I'm sorry”. She murmured against your ear, playing for a moment with the elastic of the only clothes you were wearing. “Would you let me take this off?”. She asked, to which you nodded almost desperately, the woman laughing softly as she removed your panties... “Impatient, aren't we?”.

A shiver ran through your body when the cold air from her room came into contact with the humidity of your pussy, that part contracting, Larissa licking her lips when she saw that.

“Just look at this, how precious…”. She said as if she were looking at the best piece of art in any most famous museum you could think of, running her fingers over the liquid to collect a bit, looking at her wet finger and licking it as she looked into your eyes, drawing you a moan of anticipation as you watched her take it clean out of her mouth.

“Rissa oh my god...”. You said, closing your eyes when she again slid her finger over that sensitive part of your anatomy, rising above you to admire your entire body in full nakedness.

“You have really become a divine woman my love… my good girl…”. That, that was the fucking nickname that she had used with you all through high school and that had made you feel so many things with your raging hormones.

“Rissa...”. You stifled a moan and arched as she began to insert one of her fingers into you. You had noticed that they were long, quite graceful and beautiful, their perfect touch on you, though they certainly felt even better on the inside.

“Tell me [Y/n] Who does this good girl belong to, hmm? Who has she stood for these years to get her pussy full?”. She asked, finally reaching to the knuckle, gently pulling her finger in and out to gently dilate you, the bottom of her palm crashing against your clit each time, resulting in a shiver from you with moans each time.

“To you Larissa... ah... for you... everything for you...”. You moaned, clinging to her shoulders as you trembled under her touch, being so wet it didn't take much to slip a second finger inside.

“That's right, precious… good girl…”. She fawned as she began to curl her fingers inside you, bumping into a spongy area inside you that made you arch, her other hand placing her thumb on your clit to trace circles over the swollen bud, a bit of her ego seeping in as she traced her name with her finger on your bud, smiling as your pussy finally contracted for her.

“Ah… ah… Rissa… that feels good…”. You moaned, your legs shaking sweetly for her, arching at the pleasurable sensations.

“Your pretty pussy is happy to have my fingers in it…”. She said, dropping to her knees on the ground. “I bet it will feel even better with my tongue too…”.

“Wha-? Oh my-!”. You moaned in an exceedingly indecent way as the texture of her tongue flattened against your clit, her fingers continuing inside you, your legs instinctively closing around her head, but she placed one of her hands on one of your thighs to prevent that.

“Nothing like that my dear, I don't want to have to honor the firm principal they say I am by having to punish you... so spread your legs for me...”. She ask before plunging back into your pussy, you helping her grip with one hand on your thigh to pull the leg she wasn't holding against your own chest, just as she requested, opening you wider for her.

Deeper moans began to come out as Larissa's attentions increased, the inside beginning to clench in certain patterns more quickly, your free hand on Larissa's head…

“Rissa…! Oh god… I'm going to…”. You were breathing more and more heavily, requiring all your effort to formulate a fairly congruent sentence.

“You're close, aren't you? Come on darling, drop it for me”. She said, requiring a few more thrusts with her fingers and tongue before you collapsed, bucking and moaning her name aloud as your orgasm crashed into you, Larissa carefully pulling her fingers out.

“Fuck…”. You moaned at the sense of loss, shaken and gasping from your climax, watching the woman lick her fingers just like she had at the start.

“Very well done my dear...”. She murmured, getting up from the ground, to which you sat up, intertwining your fingers with hers.

“It's your turn…”. You looked at that woman's soaked panties. “Lie down on the bed…”. You asked softly and the woman nodded, following your instructions. Your breath caught in your throat as you saw her, her bare breasts resting on top of her, her panties drenched only for you and her head rested on the pillow, her hair a mess, golden curls falling carelessly over her shoulders. “God… you are simply more beautiful than when we studied here…”. You breathed, spreading kisses down her bare chest.

“Is that so?”. She asked incredulously. “I'm…grateful to hear it darling, but I'm afraid time hasn't been kind to me”. She muttered, to which you chuckled softly.

“Oh dear, I assure you that it is so... you are like one of those wines that you like so much...”. You murmured, lowering yourself between her legs. “Simply more delicious with the passing of the years…”. You whispered against her pussy, your tongue tasting the smear of liquid on her red underwear, eliciting a strangled moan from the woman.

“Ngh… then you should drink me, dear…”. She said suggestively, so you took the liberty of sliding her panties down her legs, leaving little kisses on her thighs.

“Can I bite here?”. You asked, planting a kiss on one of her thighs not quite sure if her skirts or dresses would fully cover it.

“O-Of course…”. She gasped when she felt your teeth against her porcelain skin, letting her head fall back against the pillows, her pussy twitching happily before your eyes, a sign that she'd liked it.

“If you knew the times I had wet dreams about you in high school…”. Your tongue getting closer to where she needed you.

“Wet dreams?”. She asked breathlessly, your tongue sliding around her entrance, parting her lips with your fingers to expose her even more, her clit twitching as if greeting you impatiently.

“Yeah… or the sinful thoughts in your school speeches… how much I thought about fucking you in front of everyone and then berated myself for having such thoughts about you…”. You said, hot breath hitting her wetness.

“That- Ah!”. A moan escaped her lips as you thrust your tongue inside, your nose pressing against her nerve cluster on purpose, watching her close her eyes and lean back against the pillows once more.

Sure enough, you drank her like a fine wine, savoring her delicious flavor on your taste buds with each lick you took, occasionally interspersing your fingers when you decided you wanted to leave more hickeys down her thighs so she could see them when she took that perfect director facade off after a tiring day at work, and hopefully you too would be there to see them and maybe do more.

Larissa's moans were simply music to your ears, a lusty harmony that filled the room as did the wet sounds of your mouth, her leg hooking over your shoulder to press you closer to her core.

“Ah… [Y/n]”. And when you looked up, oh my god that damn view.

You were between her legs slurping her tastefully with her thighs decorated with your passion marks, but that wasn't all, as the woman placed her hands on her own chest, kneading and pinching her nipples while her mouth was open, panting and moaning meaninglessly, her cheeks flushed, her eyes more black than blue at that point, her hair already completely out of place falling freely, the eldest trying not to miss the sight of you devouring her, getting her eyes to roll back with pleasure from time to time.

“I'm going to cum… ah… darling…!”. She warned, to which you smiled softly, slamming three of your fingers in to rub her sweet spot as you sucked on her clit, watching her arch fully, moaning gutturally as her head sank back into the pillows.

The principal ended up panting, just like you a few moments before, so you lay down next to her with the same exhaustion as her, trying to compose yourself, seeing her turn on her back to look for something in her dresser next to her, thinking it was your signal to go.

You were about to sit on the edge of the bed when you felt her hand catch your wrist.

“Mmm… Stay… if you don't have something to do…”. She asked sweetly, so you smiled, laying back down, this time her pulling you to her chest she caressing your back gently, her hand clenched into a fist with something inside.

“Larissa?”.

“Um... I really hope there isn't someone else waiting for you at home if you know what I mean...”. She said hopefully, realizing that she hadn't asked about it before doing it with you.

“Of course not... and I hope it's the same for Larissa Weems...”. You whispered, planting a kiss on her cheek, hearing her laugh softly.

“No… although I would like there to be… a woman a couple of years younger than me… doctor… with your eye and hair color… by name [Y/n] I don't know if you find a suitable candidate…”. Now it was you who laughed.

“I think I know someone very interested in the proposal…”. You murmured, both leaning in for a kiss, this time without raw and pure lust, but something more chaste, with the same immense love and appreciation that you had for each other after so long.

“Here…”. She whispered, opening her palm and showing the two rings you had exchanged, hers that you gave her when you arrived and yours that she had put on her dresser some time ago.

The difference between the two was clear, a gold one with expensive jewels and a cheaper one but quite beautiful. You thought she would hand you the second of those, being the one that originally belonged to you, but instead she placed on your thumb her ring, placing a kiss on the object on your finger afterwards.

“A new promise, which I swear to always keep in mind…”. Explained. “Staying together, so that we both get to know each other again, to have more nights like these and days that we can enjoy”.

“Mmm... seems like a good promise to me”. You whispered, placing your ring on her little finger as you both intertwined your fingers gently.

A pair of beautiful rings that sealed a promise in a night of love, passion and wine...

“Would you like to go to Jerico for a coffee tomorrow?”. She asked softly, her voice sleepy as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“A date?” You questioned and she agreed. “I'd love to…”. You said, being equally tempted for Morpheus to take you to the world of dreams.

“Good night, my good girl”.

“Good night Rissa...”.

[gemchomper2]

★ rambles of harvey's theme: grapefruit sky

as a preface, this isn't coming from someone that has any genuine, formal education within the arts; especially concerning music theory. moreso, this is about my personal analysis, and further headcanons, that spring from concernedape's theme for the lovable local town doctor: "grapefruit sky".

to start this off, what do i believe is so interesting about this piece?

undeniably, both the words "grapefruit" and "sky" made me want to overanalyze this, to begin with. i may not be able to talk a ton about the instrumentation, but those two aforementioned keywords alone help build harvey's character so artistically.

to begin with the naming choice of the music, i do have some theories in mind:

even though grapefruits are not even present within stardew valley, they are referenced as the title of harvey's theme. that being said, there's no mention of him (to my recollection) that states he has any sort of connection to them (although characters may talk about in-accessible items, such as haley's peppermint coffee, harvey appears to not have any dialogue revolving that fruit). is there a possible reason?

there have been tons of symbolic talk about grapefruit; either it be the forbidden fruit spoke of in the biblical garden of eden, or simply just love. however, the depiction of seeing the citrus as a means of conveying duality interest me the most.

to apply this to something that is a quality of harvey's, let's take a look at his official description:

grapefruits are often described for being bittersweet. harvey's eight-heart event has him discuss how, due to his fear of heights + his horrible eyesight, he wasn't able to accomplish his initial dreams of being a pilot. he is often quoted with saying that he finds his work as "rewarding" as a doctor, though, you could obviously tell that the tangy feeling of those aspirations he saw fade may still affect him.

there can also be another point of duality: that being, he has a "kind heart" and has a "respected position" within the community, but as you grow closer with the man, he confides—finally expressing his inner loneliness he feels. this can also go another way, for he holds such a position as a well-trained practitioner, yet suffers from a very obviously-coded anxiety. these contrasts can further be accented, due to the fact harvey is a doctor, encouraging others to promote healthy habits, yet his microwave is being described as "well-used".

with that, the term grapefruit can be described as a particular colour; specifically the flesh of the citrus. here are some images that i have sourced below:

#1 creds / #2 creds / #3 creds

there are many shades of "grapefruit", however, i simply found it to be more reliable to take actual images of them to observe. in my opinion, they appear very vermillion to me. due to it being close to a red, people may call it a very passionate hue—maybe in reference to how harvey is so passionate about his aviation fixation? how he is so passionate about bettering the lives of others? how he is so passionate, in secret, about yearning, and longing for the things that could make him feel complete, such as partnership, or another case of fulfillment?

however, i like to believe that the colour is in reference to harvey's skies.

i'm taking the word "sky" to be the literal meaning of it. considering harvey's interest in airplanes, and other aeronautical fields, it would make sense to reference the very thing that such vessels were made for: soaring the winds. though, with the "grapefruit" in front of it, i took it as more of an adjective—describing the colours of the horizon. to me, it seemed to be a sunset.

sunsets are towards the end of the day; the time to where you could pack up your things, rest your head, and finally get settled down after the morning and noon hours. i believe, in term's of harvey's disposition, this can be taken in a way to where harvey may be seen as "settled" already. given him being canonically one of the older bachelors of the game, a person may expect him to have everything figured out already—to not be so lost and anxious about the world around him, and to not feel those nervous spouts of his, when he is a professional within medicine. i like to also believe he has insecurities, regarding his age and bachelor status, and alongside with the tangy goodness of a grapefruit, the sunset represents both sides of the same coin of the man.

with the skies bleeding into reds and oranges, and eventually reaching a pitch black, this could also be a reference to how he believes that he should simply accept his crushed dreams, for not everything in the world may work out for him. i believe that he might have been the one to talk himself into not being able to become a pilot. that he should already land the plane, for he shouldn't have gone off the runway this late already.

to add any finishing notes, i will attempt to discuss the actual music portion of harvey's theme. i'm moreso speaking from the heart here, in comparison to actually understanding the different chord structures and keys that may allude to something greater than i could explain.

for the first ten seconds, it starts as a solo. after that, it branches to some accompaniment; before switching from that aforementioned solo and to the accompaniment again throughout the rest of its runtime. there's a reverb/echo that i hear from the leading woodwind(?) sound, with how it holds it would such yearning tenuto notes, before hitting a climax of some sorts at around the ~0:43 mark? it sounds more lively, before returning to the solo, ending it off in a more wistful note. like, adding an afterthought to your day; the piece representing a quiet morning, an eventful afternoon, and yet another quiet time to enjoy the sunset.

i believe that this may try to represent his loneliness, or just simply a musical glimpse into harvey's life, in essence? or, his feelings. how he feels isolated, and alone in a crowd in a sense—being well-respected, yet never exactly building strong relationships in-game within the valley—even during the peak of the accompaniment. the echo/reverb that i hear could be like how his life could be seen as being inside of a hollow tunnel, though there may be a light at the end of it—given by the outro?

i am most likely spitting complete gobbledygook, but that's what i infer from it, personally.

[valkieds]

Long AU ramblings....

Thinking about this little nagiiba au I have that I tried to write out a while back....

Essentially, it's a non-idol au where Nagisa and Ibara both attend the same private high school, but Ibara's a new transfer student and generally keeps to himself. But they connect through music, Nagisa who is classically trained in the violin and Ibara who picked up the guitar because one of the few nice older kids at the orphanage would play it for him from time to time. Even if Ibara has already garnered a bit of a negative reputation for having an improper upbringing and generally being rude, Nagisa enjoys the time they spend together and ignores any advising to avoid Ibara.

Over the course of the school year, they have fun, hanging out like regular teenagers do (arcade "dates," going to festivals together, unintentional sleepovers while the parental figures are away), trying to avoid the impending doom of college exams and the like... Because of the time he spent playing music with Ibara, Nagisa's gained a reignited passion for music and seeks to go to music school. Meanwhile, Ibara is being railroaded into business school.

When fall turns to winter, that's when they really start to realize the feelings they have for each other- Ibara in a quick abrupt "oh no oh no" gay panic way and Nagisa in the "I'm not sure how to express the way being around him makes me feel, but it's not a bad feeling" way. And they confess to each other on a snowy winter day before winter break!

They start going on proper dates, and Ibara even gains the courage to be the one to say "I love you" first. Of course, the impending doom of college isn't the impending doom for no reason. Nagisa applied to a number of music schools, including international ones. And now that it's spring, he's heard back from them, having been accepted by a music school in Europe. When Nagisa tells Ibara about it, he's so happy for him! Wow! That's so impressive Nagisa-san! Wait it's in Europe...? Ibara will spend the night looking up statistics about how likely long distance relationships are to succeed, which spirals into "how many 'first love' relationships succeed" and worrying about if Nagisa will find someone better and more in-line with the life he wants to live while at school. At the same time, Nagisa can tell that despite Ibara acting 100% on board with things, something seems off although he can't quite tell what.

It's just before graduation when Nagisa finally winds up confronting Ibara about what he's not telling him. If he's so bothered about something, he should say it, after all. But Ibara, running on "I can't get hurt by him finding someone better if we're simply not in a relationship" logic, fumbles his way through a break up and running away before Nagisa can get a chance to respond. A very bitter ending to Nagisa's high school life, although he doesn't have much time to spend dwelling on it with finals, graduation, and preparing to leave the country. Well, he'll dwell on it in his spare time considering he's tried texting and calling Ibara multiple times to no response (eventually getting a response in a "I think you have the wrong number, sir" way).

But fast forward a decade and Nagisa's become a celebrated violinist, performing concerts around the world. And he's currently about to perform in a Tokyo concert hall when he sees a rather familiar face taking his seat in the audience..... He honestly never thought he'd see Ibara again, and yet there Ibara is, watching him play.... Once the show ends, Nagisa is almost in a rush to have someone get Ibara and let him into the greenroom- he doesn't want Ibara to slip away again (even more than he thought he would have after all the emotions he had felt regarding their break up).

The conversation once they're alone together is awkward and a bit tense- Ibara hadn't been expecting Nagisa to notice him in the audience, let alone want to talk to him afterwards. They catch up a bit, Ibara now being the manager and president over multiple companies that were left behind to him as well as new companies he had formed after completing business school.

It's impossible to avoid the elephant in the room, though, and it's not long before Nagisa expresses the feelings he hadn't been able to share with Ibara since that day and Ibara explains his own side of things. Although Nagisa does understand Ibara and the stupid teenagerness of it all bit better now, he still needs Ibara to make things up to him if he ever wants full forgiveness...... by being his friend and actually communicating the next time things like that happen. They aren't immediately going to go back to being a couple, that sort of thing takes time and they certainly aren't the same people they were ten years prior but... it wouldn't hurt to try a little.

[maliciousalice]

👕 & 🍽️? For the trek ask game

Heheh thanks for Asking Meg!!! All aboard another long winded ramble about my wife ST: Voyager!!!!!

👕 Character whose fashion you like.

While I answered in the last one, I think I'll add to it by saying I love the Ds9/Voyager Uniforms--Infact I'm a HUGE sucker for them--At least to me, they feel like THE signature trek costume rather than TNG or TOS ones. Plus, they are fun to draw! I love how they look on the actors with the structured upper half, and loose, high-waisted pants that give everyone the illusion of height.

Those that are dressed in the uniform are portrayed with a respectable heft and a pleasant, overall shape. I know it's not the case, but they look like they are really practical. This is fully intentional as the lead costume designer said they wanted the suits to appear modular and have advantages in different environments. That's why sometimes they are unzipped or twisted around, depending on the narrative.

I could go on and on about them. I act feral over how they look when when all the actors stand together, turned in various ways, posing so that that folds pucker on their joints, or when subtle differences in their body sizes take up screen. It just looks so cool! I'm a big fan of squad-based, colour-coded uniforms and clean silhouettes.

Most importantly though, it gives them all BODY-ODY-ODY!!!

AYO WHICH LOCATION THEY AT??? CW: GORILLA DUMPIES!!! 👀👀👀 😳😳😳😳

🍽️What alien food/drink would you want to try?

I wish I could find the video but I've seen bits and pieces about how they designed the food on the sets and I think it's super charming!

Lots of effort went into considering the cuisine. It just about decorates every set and It was important to the show. Voyager engaged in a lot visual gags, or dialog discussing food. It was in a comforting way that would present the characters with their personal ideals of home.I find that subtext of world-building really endearing.

Many scenes involved characters bonding in the mess hall, socializing around food, or isolating with it to gain a sense of self. In contrast, it's used as a device for diplomacy, or to make settings seem more alien, unnavigated and removed from regular comforts. It's even incorporated into main plot points, such as with Tuvok in ''Riddles'', when he gains a newfound skill around cooking after a serious accident, and he solves the plot by decorating a code on a cake. Through food, we saw a lot of what it could be like to be a crew member on the ship, and live inside their Universe. It wasn't always pretty but they made it work.

We have a really rich food bowl and diverse food-culture In Australia, I love noticing exotic food that are used as set decoration of as props--I am used to seeing tropical fruit or Asian ingredients around my community, so it's fun to see it transformed. And much like the characters in Voyager, I relate to the comfort and the charting of new territories when it comes to seeing/ eating food.

I suspect being a chef / working in hospitality would be an interesting occupation in Trek. Everyone complains about the lack of authenticity from replicated food, so I'm sure being a good Chef would be worth your while.

I genuinely want to try Old-mate Neelix's cooking. He seems so creative and passionate about what he plates up, and he CLEARLY (they all put on weight haha) kept the crew well-fed. ''Bitches make do'', but you can tell he cares by the questions he askes everyone, or the detail he places into his recipes. I'd like to see what all the fuss is about with Leeola Root Stew. I bet it's not that bad! (I like bitter food) Or better, serve me up a Jimbalian Fudge cake! It's so quaint how there is an evolution to his work as he gets more integrated with everyone.

(crying over this ^) Neelix Nation Rise Up!!!!

[falbrightsplace]

Everything You Never Wanted to Know About My Sonic OC

“I don’t know how to give up.”

(Full Credit to @Sonci_05 on Twitter for the comm!)

Name: Rook

Voice Claim: Yuri Lowenthal (as Yousuke Hanamura)/Still deciding on an alternative that may be too on the nose.

Age: 22

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Occupation: Archaeologist/”Relic Hunter”, Part Time Teaching Assistant

Affiliation: The Restoration, Independent

Hometown: ??? – “This big world of ours is home! Why choose one place when there’s so much out there?”

Powers(?): The ability to get up from things he absolutely shouldn’t.  It’s a sheer willpower/tenacity/stubbornness thing more than any aspect of his physiology though and he -will- pay for it if he pushes himself.

Values: The preservation of ancient knowledge, freedom, passion, justice

Dreams of: Making a monumental anthropological contribution, exploring the Starfall Islands, mapping out all the secrets the world has to offer, being acknowledged as a hero in his own right

Skills:

·       Ancient Text Analysis

·       Extreme Gear Handling (Bike Type)

·       Spelunking/Excavation

·       Demolitions/Pyrotechnics

·       Maintaining a Positive Outlook (!)

·       Fancy Footwork

·       Quick Thinking/Improvisation (We hesitate to use the word tactician)

·       Moderately adept at operating and repairing machinery, even heavy machinery.

Strengths:

·       Good at all forms of improvisation

·       Tenacious

·       Knowledgeable

·       Surprisingly good listener

Weaknesses:

·       Doesn’t think things through

·       Could be considered off putting/obnoxious (depending on who you ask)

·       Absolutely no self-preservation skills

Kit/Tools:

·       Grapple gun

·       Scarf (uses it as rope, sling for various objects, even a means to grab an opponent)

·       Small grade explosives (fireworks, smoke bombs, flash bombs, all home-made!)

·       Close range EMP devices (limited on hand)

·       Scooter/Bike style Extreme Gear (Section and Name tentative)

·       All sorts of matches and flints tucked in pouches and even the folds of his gloves.

·       Bits and bobs

·       Whatever the environment has that he can use.

·       Goggles

Likes:

·       Adventure

·       Making new acquaintances

·       Libraries

·       Museums

·       Comic Books

Dislikes:

·       Being cooped up for too long

·       People profiting off the exploitation of historical relics or the suffering of others.

·       Not much else!

Favorite Food: Asking him will cause him to malfunction as he goes through all the possible options and works through raw, unfiltered indecision.  Raspberries are good though! But so is…! And oh…! But what about…?!

Superhero Most Likely to Get Along With: Spider-Man - Nerds who can’t shut up when nervous.  Both have a tendency to put a foot in their mouth.  “Bad luck”/”PUBLIC MENACES”.  Fellow Determinators and improv combatants! …and maybe a “You sound so familiar” joke.

Dynamics/Relationships with Canon Characters:

(Note: I prefer to think of these as potential ideas, organic roleplay or writing usually dictates these things seeing as our outlook on a person is by and large determined by experience.  Soooo…snapshots!)

·       Sonic the Hedgehog – The young man reveres Sonic, thinking of him as the hero of heroes.  Sonic himself usually gets a kick out of it for a bit, though he can get a little impatient when Rook starts rambling about things and might nudge someone else into the conversation if it gets too technical or long winded. Their carefree, off the cuff nature can work pretty well together in a pinch.

·       Miles “Tails” Prower – These two can get along quite well.  Admittedly Tails can get a little sheepish around Rook’s tendencies to overload gear when tuning it to get a little more “oomph”.

·       Knuckles the Echidna – Has a complicated relationship with Rook.  There’s a deep respect shared between them for wanting to preserve history rather than just sell it off to the highest bidder and the both of them can get into the finer points of cultural cornerstones…but Rook is too energetic for Knuckles’ liking much of the time.  He just talks too much.  And moves too much.  And gets too nosy. They could make a heck of a team if their temperaments didn’t bounce off of each other in such an odd way.  If the archaeologist can help, Knuckles is grateful, he’s equally grateful to get him off his island.

·       Amy Rose – On a personal level, the two could get along quite well due to appreciating the finer points of life and love (Rook would egg her on, be her cheerleader).  He could also step on Amy’s toes at times and see that fierce side with how much of a ball of energy he is.  Things would smooth out, though!  Most of the time!  During her time as temporary Director Amy probably needed aspirin every time she saw him due to some incident coming up.

·       Rouge the Bat – Rook doesn’t approve of her.  He respects her skill and can be impressed by her but the outlook she has on treasure goes completely against his own code.  They would butt heads if going after the same prize and Rook would, by any measure, probably frustrate her on some level due to how much he insists on never giving up.

·       Shadow the Hedgehog – These two don’t really interact.  Or at least I can’t imagine Shadow hanging around long enough for Rook to give him a pep talk.  Though if the fox was to know anything about him somehow, he probably holds a special kind of admiration for the Ultimate Lifeform beyond just thinking he’s awesome.

·       Omega – Rook thinks he’s amazing, that he’s just so cool!  And Omega…probably acknowledges the collateral damage to Eggman’s property and robots?  That sounds about right.

·       Vector the Crocodile – The loud music crew is here! Rook probably has run into the Chaotix a few times both as allies and rivals depending on the nature of the case.  Still, I imagine there’s no hard feelings.  At least not on Rook’s part.  Maybe on Vector’s if it cut into the team’s bottom line, but he’s used to dealing with eccentrics in his line of work.  And in his direct vicinity.

·       Espio – Difficult to say, overall.  I imagine that Rook probably freaks out over a shinobi and how inherently awe inspiring that is though!

·       Charmy – DO. NOT. ALLOW. THEM. TO. HANG. OUT. A typhoon of good intention and destruction’s bound to follow.  They get along too well.

·       Cream the Rabbit – Rook’s actually really good with kids due to his own uninhibited connection to his sense of whimsy. He would do anything for Cream to make her smile or help her out if she was in trouble.  Good friends, even if Rook’s probably too rambunctious for any of Cream’s guardians.

·       Gemerl – Rook’s fascinated by Gemerl for so many reasons. For starters he just thinks that the robot is cool.  Gemerl, on the other hand, probably is constantly calculating risk assessments for allowing Cream to stick around him for any extended period of time.

·       Vanilla the Rabbit – Rook’s probably exceptionally polite with Cream’s mom, though I imagine she could occasionally develop a tic around him due to his shenanigans.

·       The Babylon Rogues – If there’s someone who’s even deeper on Rook’s list of people he doesn’t get along with, their names would be the Babylon Rogues.  Basically being thieves for hire make them the opposite of everything he stands for.  Jet being the most vocal and abrasive of the bunch doesn’t help things.  Storm probably sees Rook as a pencil neck nuisance who’s just getting in the way of the crew.  Wave’s probably the friendliest of the bunch towards him, but I imagine even that comes with a lot of dry jokes while keeping her eye on the prize.  That said, if they were attempting to specifically collect a Babylonian artifact, Rook could be persuaded to help due to feeling for their lost culture (the fox’d be in tears, but he’d try to hide it).

·       Silver the Hedgehog – I feel like there’s a friendship to be had here.  Rook always believes in the best future possible and will never stop supporting Silver in achieving that.  He also knows what it’s like to carry the weight of your mistakes in light of something greater.  They both want to prove themselves and they could both help one another where they struggle.

·       Blaze the Cat – I don’t imagine they’ve interacted much, but Rook’s probably a bit too loud for Blaze to open up to immediately.

·       Doctor Eggman – The villain of villains.  Rook has a begrudging respect for the doctor’s genius, his esoteric knowledge and the way in which he unearths so much.  The methodology and energy behind it though is utterly deplorable.  Eggman himself probably sees the fox as nothing in the grand scale of things, only giving him brief attention if he’s a particular nuisance.  Rook is more of a distraction than anything noteworthy to the ruler of the Empire.

·       Professor Pickle – Rook has a massive respect for the Professor’s work and considers him one of his greatest mentors.  The professor in turn supports and is often delighted by the fox’s own sense of adventure and curiosity.  They can quibble about the finer points of sandwiches, though.

·       Jewel the Beetle – Surprisingly, the curator and current head of the Restoration’s efforts gets along quite well with the rambunctious relic hunter. This is probably due to their shared interest in geology and the pursuit of beautiful specimens to share with the public. There may also be a bit of understanding given Jewel’s long-standing friendship with Tangle.  On a purely professional level, Rook has been a source of piles of files and reports which can be exhausting.

·       Tangle the Lemur – These two get along like nobody’s business.  They’re both expressive, rambunctious and find delight in the world around them.  If there’s ever been anyone to geek out and bounce around about something being so cool it’s this pair.  The hero worship can be off the charts, so can their tendency to rush headlong into things.  There’s a lot of heart and fun in their friendship.

·       Whisper the Wolf – Rook tries a little too hard with Whisper, often coming out of nowhere and trying his best to cheer her up without knowing her on a level the Tangle does.  They just can’t quite connect, a fact that Rook feels guilty about.

·       Lanolin the Sheep – Oil and water.  Lanolin sees Rook as a liability on the best days and will actively avoid him.  Rook often wants to bridge the gap by chatting or being friendly after something goes sour.  This usually strikes a nerve whether he realizes it or not.

·       Belle the Tinkerer – They work well together when it comes to fixing things.  Rook’s always very supportive of Belle’s every attempt, often being moved to tears through sentiment alone.  Which no doubt can be a little overwhelming.

Inspirations: Vash the Stampede, Taichi (Digimon Adventure), Kamen Rider, Bang Shishigami (Blazblue), Indiana Jones

Personality: Rook’s the kind of guy who enjoys making friends wherever he goes.  And can annoy anyone in equal measure due to his enthusiasm for…enthusiasm!  He’s passionate about many things.  Chief among them being the study of all things historical and the ability to glean something truly beautiful and beneficial from it.  This includes absolutely gushing about the artistry to be found in architecture, relics, even geological strata!  His specialty lies in ancient scripts and deciphering them.  As such, one of his homes (which he claims several due to his nature as a drifter) is the University in Spagonia.  He’s often just happy to be on the grounds, attend the lectures of a certain distinguished professor, or pore over books in the library.

That said, the same overarching passion gets the better of him a lot of the time.  He’s quick to act without much forethought for consequence, has a tendency to ramble once given an opportunity and gets so excited it’s been known to test the limits of peoples’ patience.  Combine this with a very strong personal sense of justice and he’s what you’d call an eccentric on the best of days.  This extends to what he thinks is cool: things like dramatic entrances and poses!  If he gets too worked up he can be a mile-a-minute chatterbox.  Rook’s always looking to squeeze a little more out of life or get some more oomph out of anything he’s working with, it all goes with his enthusiasm!

The fox is, at his core, super sentimental.  He’s a big softy who can be swayed by any story that moves him to tears (which there are many!).  Surprisingly, in spite of his nature as a chatterbox, Rook is an eager listener to those who need it.  He will go out of his way for someone who’s feeling down, trying anything from becoming a cheerleader to making a fool of himself if it’ll get a laugh or even the ghost of a smile.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes the poor guy is just woefully unaware of things, but his heart’s always in the right place no matter what.

Unsurprisingly that same tender hearted nature can leave him open to being manipulated with the right tale.  It can also lead to decisions that he previously wouldn’t have considered ‘just’ under certain circumstances.  He’s shockingly open and fair for someone who claims to fight for an absolute justice, empathy being more important to a hero than rigidity under his code.  He does bristle and take it personally when someone burns him, though.  More than that he has a habit of blaming himself for leaving that possibility open in the first place.

He has a love/hate relationship with the term “treasure hunter.”  On the one hand he thinks it is -so- cool sounding and that it has a romantic vibe to it, on the other he despises the thought of anyone using artifacts for personal gain or seeing them as mere prizes worth a pretty penny.  It is one of the only things that truly pushes his buttons in a meaningful way.  You can imagine how this goes with the likes of Rouge, Fang, and the Babylon Rogues.

Rook is an optimist, for better or worse.  He can accept the bad in things, he can see when a situation is dire, but he can’t bring himself to let the best outcome fade from view.�� In his mind, if he does that then the people who depend on that outcome are being let down.  There’s a deep sense of responsibility to others that comes with all of his actions.  This extends to others but he rarely allows himself the same grace, often coming off as personally reckless.

That fact becomes all the more apparent when his tenacity comes into play.  If it comes down to a cause he believes in or a goal he thinks is worthwhile, he won’t back down.  No matter what. When life, or an opponent, knocks him down, he will get back up as many times as he can to ensure that the best possible ending to any story is brought about.  It’s this stubbornness that serves as one of his greatest strengths and weaknesses.  He’s open to just about anything but gets tunnel vision when it comes to having eyes on the prize or when others are involved and the scope of it just happens to end before himself.

He is a terrible liar.  It will show on his face, or he will start sweating.  Or stammering.  Or his jaw will start trembling.  Or his ears will start twitching or fall back.  He just can’t sell anything with a poker face.

He can also be a bit spacey.  People often think he’s weird enough to be from another planet or off on his own world when deep in thought.  Combined with the way he hops from topic to topic it can be a little hard to keep up sometimes.

Rook definitely has an idea of what a hero is, but he also has a severe case of hero worship.  He gets star-struck when around people who have saved the world, or if someone does something he finds to be cool. It never fails to bring out the kid in him, he’s just a big dork in a lot of ways.  That said, the relic hunter wants to be worthy of the title himself.  It leads to a lot of comparison, a lot of the feeling that he must live up to grander visions or accomplishments or do more.  He’s a bit hard on himself at times.

He can be a bit clumsy if inertia works against him and he’s already put enough energy behind himself and the ways in which he can turn around a situation are not only unorthodox but at times…unwieldy.  As a self proclaimed harbinger of peace and preservationist, Rook can be described as a walking hurricane.  Collateral is and has been a possibility when he figures out a plan and charges with it.  He’s a high risk, high reward off-the-cuff improviser.

The very idea of a rivalry is enough to get him fired up! It’s the hallmark of a hero who’s made it! If someone is the heel to his face, he will play into it without a second thought and give it his all.  If he thinks they do something cool he’ll often react before trying to hide it beneath a pouty veneer before gushing again.

Overall Rook is a fun loving, friendly guy who may appear to be a little (or a lot) off at times but has a heart of gold.  He’ll do anything for the people or ideals he believes.

[autisticgirliesbracket]

What makes Cure Custard from Kira Kira Precure a la Mode the autistic girlie ever of all time? Here's what the people have to say:

Cure Custard-related asks/reblogs: x This post will be updated after each round!

Image ID in alt text and under the readmore.

[Image ID. White slide with a screenshot of Cure Custard on the right. She is surrounded by text boxes which read,

"She has a special interest (purin) and her backstory is about how she felt alienated from her peers for being different. Her character arc is about her becoming more confident."

"Very reserved and shy but becomes talkative on the topic of sweets and making sweets which she takes very seriously, however she was considered weird for this and became ashamed about talking about it until she met friends who were accepting of her. Displaying special interest behaviour tbqh. Not just a “touch of the ‘tism” my friend this is critical levels of autism."

"Absolutely obsessed with sweets to the point where she made it her entire career, she has a cute little notebook full of notes about sweets, she's loved it since she was a little kid"

"Her special interest is sweets, and specifically the chemistry used in baking and making pastries. While usually shy, she'll infodump about them at the slightest prompting - though she's done it less since she was a child and other kids found her passion for sweets offputting and long-winded. Her arc for the season involves her starting to overcome her shyness in the name of explaining the chemistry of sweets with everyone, because knowledge is cool. On one occasion, at an audition, she is asked to pretend to whisk and make cream as she talks. Himari then gets hung up on what KIND of cream this is, what'll it be used for, because that seriously changes how she should be whisking and frankly this should be cooled in advance if it's meant for this or this and if that's not the Autism Mood. She also has a notebook where she records all her recipes and specific notes on methodology! She was inspired to do this by a book written by her idol, whose catchphrase, adopted by Himari, is "Sweets are chemistry!" "

"out of all of the Precure with autistic vibes. she is the most canon."

"Himari has a special interest in the science behind sweets-making, keeping extensive notes in a series of notebooks and eagerly explaining all about it to anyone who so much as mentions sweets in her presence. She has a flashback where we learn she used to info-dump about her interest to her classmates, who often ignored her, causing her to become rather shy and insecure. (luckily the other girls in her magical girl group are also passionate about sweets and are super supportive of her, which helps her regain confidence and pursue her dreams <3)"

"ohhhh my god. shes so autistic coded!!! she literally has a special interest in sweets (specifically pudding), and she infodumps about it all the time!!! her backstory has a moment where she accidentally started rambling about sweets and her classmates found her weird for that. it made her very insecure about her tendency to ramble, but she comes to be accepting of that part of her when she makes friends with ichika!!! she's also very nervous in crowds (she has a lot of other traits but it's been a while since i watched a la mode so my memory is spotty) all of her focus episodes r so. Wow!!! This girl is autistic!!! i love her dearly" End ID.]

[balshumetsbaragouin]

Chapter thirteen came out yesterday! We are officially over the halfway mark, and things are going to start heating up plot wise very soon! This is the second half of the Danny POV double feature for this week. Wednesday and next Saturday's chapters will be in Valerie's POV. Then it's back to switching.

In this chapter, Danny takes his sick leave, and we follow him over the weekend. Still not convinced to click? Have a sample below:

He stood on the edge of the roof, watching the cars and pedestrians below hustle to park or enter the shops on Main. The standing appointment to meet Red Huntress had drawn him out of the warmth of his nice soft bed on the late fall evening. He glanced down at a patch of grass, hoping Dr. A wasn’t frowning in disapproval at him being out of bed. He needed to talk to Valerie, and he didn’t want to do it over the phone. As long as he wasn’t fighting, she wouldn’t get irritated and try to talk to Vlad, right? He considered it for a moment, watching a family try to force a stroller over the still uneven sidewalk from the fight with the Ops Center, realizing her contacting Plasmius ranked higher than a conversation with his actual parents. He could brush off Vlad, and the man wasn’t likely to do more than take advantage of the last waning days of his illness, but if the powerful ghost woman dropped by Fentonworks to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Fenton that their halfa son needed more time to recuperate... The idea had him pushing down shivers as a gust of wind ruffled his hair. Ugh, no, that’s the worst case scenario. My parents don’t listen to ghost rambles...usually, but she’s strong enough to keep them captive, and coherent enough to make them pay attention. It’d be hard to brush her off. How is “Technus’ mom visits Vlad” the best case scenario here? The couple below got the stroller up onto the concrete and pushed it towards a toy store.

That store had dumped all its electronic wares over the last three weeks, sending even the non-wiggling stuff elsewhere, and smashing everything that moved. All that was left were simple things like wooden blocks or hot wheels. He checked the time again on his cell, frowning when it showed five after the hour. Val was never late—

“Sorry, I had to wrangle the bridge between Elmerton and Amity.”

“The...drawbridge came to life?” He turned around, taking in the harried look on her face and the soot and dust covering her armor. The debris disappeared as he watched, swept away by some mechanical process of the suit. It was eerie...and neat. Tucker would love a chance to scan the abilities of the new suit.

“Yeah, well not the bridge itself, that’s just concrete and metal. The control station is made of a bunch of computers and electronics, though, and it developed a mind of its own. It didn’t do anything dangerous, I mean it didn’t try to slam the road down on passing boats or toss cars into the river, but it was still a hassle. I had to spend the last hour scrubbing out every crack and crevasse on that thing before it stopped pouting and did its job.” She started trying to brush off the remaining grime, her face a mix of disgust and frustration.

“Wait, you’re filthy because you got put on cleaning duty?”

[orlafilmblog]

The Performance - The Amazing HoDs

I am in awe of all the hard work that the crew poured into my little queer women film and I want to highlight that in this post. Starting with…

The One and Only Lucy Gilmour – Producer

I wasn’t sure who I could rope into being producer for this project. I was leaning towards producing it myself (thank god I didn’t) when Lucy approached me. She explained how passionate she was about my idea and that she really wanted an opportunity to produce after realising it was what she wanted to specialise in. Lucy did not disappoint. From the start I had said I was happy to help out wherever an extra hand was needed, but I barely had to think about producing. Lucy dealt with things quickly and professionally and the communication between us was solid throughout the process. She was by my side for auditions and I really valued her input as we had some hard casting decisions to make. All the equipment was booked with plenty of time and she did her best to get us everything we needed. Of course she was the one to secure us Cabaret Voltaire, which was the perfect filming location for the club scene. When it came to filming, everything was done. She provided all the food and drinks, kept on top of everything and kept the vibes good. I feel the producer role has often been misunderstood, and to have someone who was so passionate about the project made a huge difference to our producer/director relationship. Lucy was wonderful to have on board and I would be more than happy to work with her again.

The Amazing Eva – Cinematographer

Wow. I am so in awe of Eva’s work. From the moment I had the idea for The Performance I knew I wanted to work with Eva, and I am so glad she said yes! I would ramble on and on about the visuals for the film, and Eva would somehow understand exactly what I was talking about. Her preparation and knowledge was inspiring and I have learned so much from working with her. I wish I had allocated more time to our talks as I feel I left her doing some heavy lifting that was supposed to be shared. There was a moment during the first day of shooting when we couldn’t quite get a shot to work. Eva was becoming very disheartened and upset and I could see the classic imposter syndrome creeping in. For such a talented woman to not believe in her own capabilities! I wish I could have given her more support other than “Eva, you are doing amazing”, but there is no truer statement. We got the shot and it looked gorgeous (of course it was cut in the edit…) Basically, in a very long-winded way, I am saying that working with Eva was an incredible experience. She pushed me to learn more about camera and I just hope she has taken something valuable from her own work on The Performance.

James Fox (Brooklyn Blood Brother) – Sound Recording/Design

James and I have an unbreakable sound/director bond. I didn’t really think through this agreement at the time. I realised just before moving into post production that I hadn’t actually heard anything James’ had designed before?! Nonetheless, I put my full faith in him, and I was not disappointed. James smashed this. Considering his less-than-ideal recording spaces (beside a main road – soz james) he managed to get the best audio he could. His recording for the make-up sequence is impeccable, no foley even needed! He also problem-solved the best way to record sound in the club, which was something neither of us had done before. Moving into the design, James understood exactly what I had envisioned for the sound and he executed it brilliantly. I was very annoying and picky about this aspect of the film, and James implemented every round of feedback no matter how big or small. James is a joy to work with, bringing a perfect mix of positivity and professionalism to every set. I am so honoured to call him my Brooklyn Blood Brother (and official honorary girlboss).

Katie, The Master of Pink – Production Designer

Katie turned my male flatmates boring plain bedroom into a pink glowing gorgeous room that fit exactly the character of Marie. Do I need to say any more? My flatmate has even kept the new layout of his room (minus the pink unfortunately). A lot of Katie’s work wasn’t shown in the film, which is why I feel it is so important to draw attention to it. She dressed the bedroom set, the bathroom set, and the club set in full, which allowed for the crew and cast to feel fully absorbed in the space. There are so many tiny details in Marie’s bedroom that we talked about, my favourite being the painting from the film we worked on last year together called The Last Landscape (I’m a sucker for easter eggs in films). This was my first time working with a production designer and I really enjoyed seeing someone else have such a deep understanding of my characters. Katie’s make-up design and costume choices were perfect for each character, and I definitely have a soft spot for Adinah’s look. Even during harder times, Katie still showed unwavering commitment to this project and these characters. She has showed a true talent and eye for production design and I loved bringing this film to life with her.

Bonnie – The Speediest Editor

With her being so pre-occupied with Longboard Nights, Bonnie and I had agreed that we would not talk about the edit until we got to the edit. Whilst this isn’t a perfect situation, Bonnie took it all in her stride. She also had a very tight turn around for the edit and produced a wonderful final cut that I am so happy with. She was amazing to work with, being the perfect balance of lenient and honest. Her opinion was invaluable, and she knew what had to be cut, even when I would fight for it, she was ultimately right. Her fresh way of looking at the film helped to bring it together. I found the editing stage to be difficult as a director; Bonnie helped immensely. Working with her gave me a stronger appreciation for the art of editing and I think she has a true talent for it.

Jack Birrell (The Storm in The Calm) – First AD/Intimacy Coordinator

Jack originally came onto the project as intimacy coordinator. This role was very important to me – I wanted the set to feel safe and open for all the actors involved. Jack had mentioned he had been an intimacy coordinator last semester and was happy to do so again. It wasn’t until close to filming that I realised I desperately needed a 1st AD. Jack was the man. I hadn’t fully understood the insane importance of a good AD. Jack was a key part of prepping the shoot, coming up with shooting schedules with fair breaks and productive days. On set, he kept everyone as on time as possible, problem solving as we went when we realised we had underestimated how long filming would take on the first day. He stressed so no one else had to. In the club, Jack was so on top of things in the club, working with the 20+ extras and ensuring we wrapped early. As a director, he made my job ten times easier. I am so grateful he came onto the project as a favour, we couldn’t have done it without him.

[offorestsongs]

What's their dream date together? Ramble as much as you'd like :}

hi Anon, thank you sm for the ask (especially since you've sent it like a SECOND after i posted that lmao) 💗

to be totally honest, their dream date is literally just any time they can spend time together lmao they are, first and foremost, obsessed with eachother so as long as they can be together, they're happy : D their definition of a date is also very loose. as long as they're Going Out and Doing An Activity, it's a date for them <3 they can make anything romantic (Rook would probably have a lot to say about the romance of the mundane) <3

they do sometimes go on what you'd consider more "traditional" dates - mostly initiated by Rook, since you do kind of need money to go out somewhere and Lysander is poor as a mouse (tho Lysander feels really bad when somebody is paying for him so he's always insisting on paying for himself where he can). when Rook learned that Lysander has never been to a theater before (back in our world, Lysander still was pretty poor and lived in a rural area so it's not like he had an opportunity to) he set out to fix that IMMEDIATELY. so they often do go on theater dates. Lysander is too focused on trying to get thru life to have a strong interest in fiction either way, but while he enjoys the plays well enough, he REALLY enjoys seeing how passionate Rook is about it. he spends about half of the time just looking at Rook and observing his reactions, and he loves listening to all the long-winded rants Rook usually goes on afterward. he always does his best to follow along and ask questions to show that he's interested (and he is! even if half of whatever Rook is saying goes over his head)

but what they both really enjoy is just. going out in the woods around school. they're both ofc very outdoorsy people with vast interest in animals and nature, it's where they find common ground. they like just going on walks, trying to find out new interesting places, birdwatching, honestly just whatever they come up with - they always treat it as little adventures!!! they get rlly excited running off to roll in the grass together!! (figuratively, but also sometimes literally)

so! to actually answer your question because i feel like we have gotten SO off topic lmao - if i had to actually pick what they would consider a dream date, it would've been just. being able to go somewhere new and being able to discover new places. maybe going camping out in the wilderness? (don't tell me that's not a date. it is FOR THEM). anywhere where they can have an adventure and a lot of time to make out in peace LMAO

[lynvaren]

I wanted to ask you about your take on 'shipping' gon and killua like romantically? your drawings are ambiguous enough (idk if thats the right word) but I was wondering whether you see them that way and what you think of the discourse of it's 'gross' or 'disgusting to ship 2 kids'. Thanks and I hope this doesn't come off the wrong way. Your art is awesome and always makes me happy (*＾v＾*)/

Hey! Ty for the question! This is like the longest running discourse huh... I'll do my best to share my perspective! Putting some of it under a cut because I accidentally wrote too much ^^;

I do see the ickiness of the phrase 'shipping two kids' when you put it like that, but I think that's because the word 'shipping' has this... umbrella connotation of like. HEAVY romance with adult and often sexual implications attached to it. Which is a huge red flag when u think abt kids that way?? and obviously you shouldn't??? and there’ll always be some nasty fans who do, but I think a lot of us see them the way we see most ships in kids' shows.

Because BECAUSE the thing is, we see romance all the time in children's media. Kids have crushes. Kids get into stupid relationships at 13 where all they do is peck each other on the lips awkwardly and pass notes to each other in class and hang out on ‘dates’ at each other's houses to watch TV. And it's totally normal! So when people say 'ew shut up gon and killua are only friends, stop thinking abt them like that, they're children' you have to wonder where that's coming from. Bc would they be saying the same thing about a boy and a girl of the same age?

To bring up specific examples: think about aang from atla (is a 12 yo with an enormous crush for a majority of the series, and gets together with her in the end) and sam and danny from danny phantom (are 14 yo), and these are shows with like. An actual on-screen KISS at the end. Nobody bats an eye at that, and not to be dramatic but the double standards are showing. It's implying that 'queerness' is what's vile and adult but like. Queer adults were once queer children, right? Gon and killua are 12 at the beginning, and nearing 14 at the end, so the discourse of 😡don’t ship 2 kids!🤬 stops being valid when you think about it in a larger perspective, in relation to similar media. Like sure, you’re welcome to see them in a strictly platonic way, but if the ONLY REASON ur not ok with a wholly harmless, innocent romance is because they’re children, and harass other fans abt it, then to me it sounds like a load of bull to cover up ur homophobia.

(also whenever I say ‘you’ i mean an abstract third person, not YOU you anon, if that’s not clear hjghfdgs 💖)

As for hxh specifically, my take is that the subtext is deliberate. Togashi would have to be pretty ignorant of his own writing if it weren’t; killua is so heavily coded as developing a very romantic, very boyfriend crush on gon and considering togashi’s history with queer rep it wouldn’t be far-fetched for anyone to call it intentional. And who are any of us to take that away from queer fans who see themselves in these characters? 

And as for me, using the word ‘ship’ makes me feel weird (which is totally a silly personal thing) but I think my feelings on killugon can be summed up by this exchange—

—which is a very underrated moment imo and explains killua’s feelings perfectly. They go from talking about dates to killua thinking to himself that he’d rather just stay with gon forever, and like... to me that’s IT. He doesn’t care about dating or romance when he can just be with gon. No dating experience with anyone else will be AS MEANINGFUL TO HIM as being with gon. Tell me if that isn’t the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. 

So it’s my personal opinion that, all things considered, what gon and killua have transcends any platonic or romantic connotation; it’s more like a ‘you’re IT for me’ in whatever way you choose to see it. Do I think killua has a big fat crush on gon?? yeah. Do I think anyone seeing their friendship as ONLY a friendship is valid? also yeah. 

The only thing is that justifying them being strictly bff bros because 'they can’t be more bc they’re children ew’ isn’t gonna fly. Bc if you take it to mean anything more than an innocent depiction of young love then you're the one making it weird. As long as we’re not sick in imagining gross things then what’s wrong in just wanting them to hold hands? 

[la-muerta]

11.29 Begin - English Translation of Gong Jun’s book

In January 2019, Gong Jun wrote and self-published a book titled 11.29 Begin, with sales from the book going to charity. The book is currently out of print but at that time, he wasn’t very popular yet so he didn’t actually manage to sell many copies, so he quietly donated the projected sales in advance out of his own pocket — 150,000 yuan (about US$23,000). The money went to the China Foundation for Poverty Alleviation (中国扶贫基金会), funding school kitchens for four schools in Sichuan, and fans only noticed because the organisation tagged him in their thank you message. Gong Jun also made the donation under “俊味仙” — the name for his fans.

There are seven chapters plus a preface and afterword, with each chapter talking a bit about the seven projects he had done up to that point, as well as stories about himself and some of his thoughts about life. Gong Jun has said that he doesn’t intend to reprint the book because it has fulfilled its purpose, although he may do similar charity projects in future. I have translated his text but I won’t be posting the photos from the book (also because there are 190 pages in this book ^^;).

Please do not repost my translation anywhere else, including other platforms like twitter and Instagram. If you want to quote parts of it, please link back to me or at least give credit. And if you feel inspired by his book and have the means, perhaps you can consider making a donation to a fund for needy students on his behalf.

Preface

Life is like a long, meandering journey. On the way, many beautiful sights [1] may pass you by, and you can choose to go with the flow or go against it, admiring the scenery along the way and enjoying the freedom, unfettered by limitations. Life is also like a movie, with a rousing opening, ups and downs in the story, and at the end you come away with an understanding of how wonderful the whole process has been and a love for life.

If I could, I would like to just get a backpack and take to the road, so I can feel the wind on my face; travelling throughout the four seasons, admiring the scenery along the way and enjoying the glow of freedom.

If I could, I would like to take a leisurely stroll along the side of a lake, quietly savouring the feeling of not having a care in the world. I would watch movies in the afternoon, taking in the breadth of human experience, and appreciate the joy of being alive.

The hustle and bustle of the city brings its own unique drive and passion. Caught up in this busyness and activity, I often ponder: What kind of person am I? What version of “me” do I want to become? How can I become the version of “me” that I want to become? When I think of things like that out of the blue, it makes me feel like a profound philosopher; and then, poof, I’ll laugh at myself. I never thought I would write a book for myself one day. Before I started writing, the mental draft of things that I wanted to write about would probably have used up countless post-it notes. Suddenly, I discovered that I was more prone to rambling than I’d expected. But when I actually put pen to paper, I didn’t know what to say. Anyway, I hope that from the sparse and simple prose in this book, you can feel the real me, the “me” just the way that I am.

And then, in the unknown future that lies ahead, I hope that even as I pursue my aspirations, I will always remember my original intentions. I hope I can face every unexpected acquaintance and long-awaited meeting with sincerity.

Two years ago, I left Shanghai and came to Beijing. It was an unfamiliar city, a completely new environment, and there’s a vast difference between the north and south (where I’m from). Along the way, I’ve seen different sides to myself, and at different stages and circumstances I’ve experienced love and friendship, as well as setbacks and pain. Still, from the bottom of my heart, I am grateful for all the people I’ve met and experiences I’ve had along the way.

After playing these characters, I’ve discovered that acting is truly a Pandora’s box. In every character, I’ve found a different side of me. I like the rich inner worlds and the unique soul in every character. They are the only ones who will always be with me for every next stage of my journey.  

Life is not a grand banquet of material things, but a polishing of the soul, so that when the curtains fall the soul shines brighter than it did at the beginning when the curtains rose. For example, my favourite singer, Li Ronghao-laoshi, whose soul blossoms with the spirit of all things; he can write a whole song by himself and I can feel the power in the melody and the truth in the lyrics, all of which resonate in my heart. I may be just a fledgling in my career as an actor, but I am willing to work ten times, a hundred times harder, to create a character with a soul. That way, I won’t let myself down, I won’t let the years of my youth down, and I won’t let all of you down.

I would like to dedicate this book, 11.29 Begin, to myself at the age of 26, as well as to the interesting souls I admire.

[1] The phrase he used was 十里春风; literally translated to “ten li of spring scenery”, originating from the poem 《赠别·其一 (Presented at Parting, Part One) 》by Tang Dynasty poet Du Mu.

–

Chapter One

I’ve chosen what I love, so I should love what I’ve chosen. I’ve always wanted to be an actor.

Advance Bravely

Advance Bravely (盛势) is an adaptation of a novel by Chai Ji Dan (柴鸡蛋). Before I was casted in Advance Bravely, I had not read any of Chai-laoshi’s novels. Because the process between accepting the role and starting filming had been very rushed, I didn’t have the chance to read the script properly, so I thought it was simply a drama with two male leads. To better understand the character I was playing, Xia Yao, I decided to read the original novel. My first reaction was: “Wah! This is going too far!” So I was quite resistant at first.

I’ve forgotten where I came across this, but later I read this piece of advice: “I’ve chosen what I love, so I should love what I’ve chosen.” It was truly enlightening. Since I’ve chosen acting as a career, I should be passionate about every role that I play, imbuing every character with a soul and sense of self. That is my job. After that, I loosened up a lot and was less inhibited on set, which also lessened my mental stress. Only by letting go of my self-consciousness can I find my character’s sense of self.

This was not only my first time working with a proper filming crew, but also my first time taking on a role that had so many scenes. Xia Yao is the pivotal character in all the drama’s storylines. At first, I had a hard time coping with the number of scenes I had to film every day, but gradually I got the hang of it. In every production, everyone in the cast and crew are working hard together to present the best work to the audience.

The experience of filming the fight scenes and the scenes in the rain remain vivid in my mind. The martial arts instructors were very patient with me when they taught me the moves and techniques, including wrestling and sprinting under the machines making artificial rain. Previously, I had seen such scenes in the movies and they always looked so cool. Now that I’ve experienced the process of filming them, I realise that it takes a lot of hard work from the cast and crew to complete a scene like that.

We filmed this drama in Tianjin in summer. The weather was really hot and there were a lot of mosquitoes; we would not have survived without fans and a lot of insect repellant. Even the winter scenes were filmed in summer, and I had to wear heavy winter clothing and walk under the blistering sun at 37–38°C temperatures. At that time, I was suffering from an allergic reaction on the skin at the back of my neck, and it was then that I realised that being an actor really isn’t easy.

Xia Yao really enjoys his food, so I had a lot of scenes where I had to eat. I’m also someone who enjoys food so I was really happy until I actually had to film the scenes. Almost all the scenes that involved eating were scheduled on the same days, and in every scene I had to eat a lot to accommodate the various shots from different angles and camera positions, and I did so many takes that I had to keep eating and eating. By the time we wrapped, I had put Xia Yao’s favourite food, lotus root filled with glutinous rice, on my blacklist. I never want to see that dish again in my life, haha.  

To get closer to the character of Xia Yao, when I’d finished filming my scenes for the day, I’d go for roller-blading and boxing lessons. As a result, I only had a few hours of sleep every day, and I felt like I was fighting in a war. I considered giving up a few times, but in the end I managed to pull through, not wanting to let everyone else down and waste all the effort that we had already put in. When I finally saw the finished product and saw that the accumulation of every day’s hard work had been woven into a story with such emotion and spirit, it solidified my passion and aspirations for acting as a career.

Acting is not just a job but a career I love

Before becoming an actor, I knew nothing about it. Now, I think that while you might be able to find a succinct definition of the job in the dictionary, what being an actor entails is so much more than that. Acting (as a profession) is like the rains of the south, constantly changing throughout the four seasons – sometimes a roaring storm and sometimes a gentle drizzle, bold and exciting, elegant and obstinate, always bringing anticipation and imagination, and giving one the kind of energy that seeps into your soul. An actor’s every performance can take your breath away with their mastery of their skill. Whether one is playing the mightiest hero or the most mild-mannered scholar, each character has their own emotional journey and soul.

I love acting. I love being able to experience different life stories through each character, I love the metamorphosis of every character that I bring to life. I love it, and I enjoy every moment of it.

In a life filled with trivial things, acting has become my dream, my aspiration, and where my heart lies. As Stephen King wrote in Shawshank Redemption, “Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” For me, right now, that’s what my love for acting means to me. No matter how big the challenge, I will face it bravely.

–

“Life is a train to the grave. There will be many stops along the way, and it is difficult for someone to accompany you from the beginning to the end. When someone who is with you has to get off the train, you should say ‘thank you’ even if you find it hard to let go. Then wave goodbye.”　

一 Spirited Away, Hayao Miyazaki

–

Chapter Two

The process of growing up is like a thief of time; it will steal the things you’ve been dependent on, the things you’ve been holding onto all your life.

Love Lost in Times

Love Lost in Times (醉玲珑) was my first costume drama, so I had to learn a lot of things, including horseback riding, archery, chess and so on. One particular scene filmed mainly in Dunhuang required many shots of me riding a horse, but I had zero experience with horses. It took me almost a whole day to learn how to ride a horse, but they told me I was a pretty fast learner, and I was quite gleeful about that – maybe I have some talent in this area.

I played the role of the eleventh prince, Yuan Ji, or as you all like to call him, “the scary protector of his brother". In the drama, he is brave and loyal, protecting his fourth brother in every way, obeying everything he says, and aiding him in everything he does. Yuan Ji is also pretty devoted in his romantic relationships, doting on Cai Qian. But the reality on set was that everyone was taking care of me. The director guided me on filming techniques, and Wai-ting-ge (William Chan Wai-ting) shared his years of experience with me. As a newcomer to costume drama, every time I couldn’t get into the right headspace, everyone helped me get into character, feeding lines to me off-camera, practising lines with me, and teaching me how to be more natural. I remember there was a scene in which three characters were playing against each other and I couldn’t get into the right headspace. We must have had to do more than ten takes because of me, but the director didn’t blame me. Instead, he guided me patiently, talking through the emotional beats of the scene so that I could get into the character’s headspace more easily, and Wai-ting-ge was there to feed me my lines. It made me feel that the whole cast and crew was like a big family, bringing together a lot of loving and caring people who helped each other like family.

My company is the best gift that I can give my family

There is an old saying: while your parents are still alive, do not travel far.

My parents were always there for me while I was growing up, and now that I’ve grown up, my biggest wish is to take my parents travelling and show them the world. But as an actor, free time is hard to come by. Whenever I do have time between projects, I’ll bring my family out for a spin, taking them to try out food places and shops that have been highly recommended online, and touring famous landmarks and scenic views with them. What’s important is that I’m there to hold their hands.

The moon is always brighter at home [2]

One of my friends shared this quote in our group chat: “I went through so many examinations, but all I got for it was having to leave home, never getting to spend the spring or autumn with my family, only the fleeting winter and summer.” [3]

Going to university was my first taste of separation from my family. I was born in Chengdu, grew up in Chengdu, and I’d never left it before then. On the day that I left, I took the last possible flight out. Behind me were my parents, reluctant to see me go and filled with worry; in front of me lay the university life that I’d been looking forward to. I was suddenly aware that I stood at a turning point in my life. I would no longer have my nagging but loving parents by my side, and I would have to grow into my best self independently, taking responsibility for myself. The two-and-a-half-hour flight brought me to a foreign city. There were none of the familiar little shops that I’d visited every week, none of the internet cafes that I’d frequented when I was playing truant from school, none of all my decade-old “secret bases”.

After I started university, I seldom had the opportunity to spend the mid-autumn festival at home, and after I graduated I didn’t even get to go home many times in a year. Over time, I began to really feel the accumulation of all those mid-autumn festivals and other festivities that I hadn’t had the chance to celebrate with my family. Like my favourite Dongzikou Zhang’s cold noodles and Liaoji Laoma’s pig trotters from the alleyways of Chengdu, all these have become things that I can only experience in my memories.

[2] This is a line from 《月夜憶舍弟 (Thinking of My Younger Brothers on a Moonlit Night)》, a poem by Tang Dynasty poet Du Fu.

[3] These are lyrics from the song 《我的大学 (My University)》. Both the spring festival (the Lunar New Year) and the mid-autumn festival are important celebrations of reunion and family in Chinese culture.

–

Chapter Three

I have come to join this celebration of youth that I’ve heard so much about, pulling aside the curtains to face the unknown with excitement and enthusiasm; embracing it, protecting it.

The spin-off

Love Lost in Times (醉玲珑) and Exquisite Drunken Dream (玲珑醉梦) were filmed at the same time, one after the other, so we managed to keep the same cast for both projects. Because we’d all been working together for a while, we were all very fond of each other and comfortable with each other, and at the later stages we were even confident enough to make suggestions to the director.

Exquisite Drunken Dream is mainly about the eleventh prince and Cai Qian. Xu Muchan and I had gotten to know each other well after Love Lost in Times and we’re very good friends in real life. She’s from Dongbei, so when we’re chatting, sometimes she’ll unconsciously say something in Dongbei dialect so I ended up picking up some of it from her. Sometimes I still slip into Dongbei dialect! I remember reading a joke from somewhere, that if there’s someone from Dongbei living in your dormitories, after a week you’ll all become people from Dongbei. It looks like the Dongbei dialect really does have that power, and Xu Muchan definitely has plenty of the generosity and charm typical of the people from Dongbei.

We had a lot of fun filming Exquisite Drunken Dream and we were more relaxed on set so we were more daring about trying out new things in the scenes that would not have been possible in the main series. There were a lot of characters in Love Lost in Times and every character had a very fulfilling storyline, so we didn’t want to suggest too many of our own changes in case it messed up the big picture story arc. But because Exquisite Drunken Dream revolves around the eleventh prince and Cai Qian, we were more daring about suggesting quirks for our own characters to make them come alive, and contributed more of our own opinions on our performances. That was a new experience for me.

To my beloved friends

I am thankful for the new friends I make from every project, and I’m grateful to have them in my life.

I make friends quite easily. As long as we get along and are comfortable with each other, friendship is as simple as sharing stories over a round of drinks, and being open and relaxed around each other is the most important.

Actually, a lot of my friends are very similar to me in terms of personality, and we share similar interests. Our interactions are simple and casual. I don’t really have many hobbies or interests – playing video/computer games, going to the gym, cooking. I live quite near two of my friends from university, so we’ll play games together, they’ll let me borrow their gym membership cards, and I’ll cook for them. It might not be much, but it makes me happy.

I have passed through your world countless times

Many people will appear and bloom in your life, bringing joy and laughter, while many others will leave, sometimes forever, bringing pain and regret. Time passes quickly, and those who pass through my world must have had a special bond of fate with me.

At the end of every project, I will feel melancholic for a while. The end of a project means we will have to say goodbye to each other, and separation means eventually becoming distant to each other. But because I have put in time and effort into every relationship, I don’t want these relationships to fade over time.

On set, everyone treats me like a younger brother, and the time we spent together remains vivid in my mind – shooting scenes together, memorising our lines together, eating together, playing games together, and chatting about everything and anything together. The happy and busy times pass so quickly and before I know it, it’s time to say goodbye and end this brief time together. With reluctance, gratitude and stammered words of farewell, everyone heads off on their next journey.

–

“I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way. You see, the world looks very different up here… Just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. Even though it may seem silly or wrong, you must try.”

“Seize the day… Carpe Diem.”

一 Dead Poets Society

–

Chapter Four

When you are faced with obstacles, chew through them carefully like you would chew your food. Life is something you have to digest slowly on your own.

Fantasy Westward Journey

Fantasy Westward Journey (梦幻西游) is a classic game that a lot of us played for many years, a unique memory from our youth. I was a fan of the game too and I was really excited when I found out I was going to be in this drama [4]. As an avid gamer, getting to play the main character in the game world is usually the kind of dream you have after gaming all night, but this dream came true for me.

I joined the production team with great anticipation and excitement. All the mountains, rivers, and valleys that I had visited in the game world were represented by green screens on set, and the ever-changing fantastical abilities of the characters would only be added in with CGI in post-production. It was extremely challenging for me at that time to act with no physical guides. The actors were surrounded by green cloth and had to find their own sightlines, camera angles, and position markers.

Because the story would alternate between the historical fantasy setting of the game world and modern day setting of the real world, the actors had to adjust their performances and speech patterns accordingly. In the game world, we had to speak in a more elegant manner, while the dialogue in modern scenes were done in casual everyday speech. A lot of the scenes played on the juxtaposition and switching between these two settings. I learnt a lot through this production, including new acting techniques.

The ten-thousand-year love affair between Chengdu people and hotpot

Chengdu people like to take life at a leisurely pace – it is our attitude to life and things that come our way. I was born and raised in Chengdu, and like the people of my hometown, I enjoy a comfortable and relaxed lifestyle but that doesn’t mean that I’ll overindulge in it. The best way to demonstrate the characteristics of Chengdu people is probably in the spirit of the way we eat hotpot. In Chengdu, eating hotpot is all about the mood and feelings it inspires. Slow cooking brings out the unique flavours and reminds us to savour life. Every ingredient dipped however briefly in the soup stock makes us realise that every chance meeting adds to the rich tapestry of our lives, and the bubbling soup mimics the ups and downs that we must experience in life.

To fully experience Chengdu’s spirit of hotpot-eating, you must of course eat it with both the “ma” (numbing) and “la” (spiciness) flavours. There are hotpot restaurants everywhere you go, and all of them are imbued with the same spirit. You can cook tens of thousands of ingredients of every variety in the same hotpot, and that is how you understand the tolerance and open-mindedness of the people of Chengdu.

I’ve loved eating hotpot since I was a child – I don’t know if I was born with a taste for it, or it was something inculcated by my family. When I was young, my family ran a business and there was a hotpot restaurant near the factory. I ate there very frequently, basically every other day. The owner of the restaurant was very friendly with my family, and I ate there so often that I was practically like their foster son!

Eat more, my friends, life is short!

In many households, the mother is the one who is capable both in and out of the kitchen and the father just sits in the living room soaking his feet and watching TV. But in my family, my dad takes care of everything in the household, and he also has a special skill – he’s a really good cook. When I was a kid, my mother and paternal grandmother would always play assistant to my father and paternal grandfather in the kitchen. One of my most heart-warming memories from childhood was that after walking home from school every day at noon, my grandfather would have my lunch ready and he would be waiting for me at home. I liked to watch TV while I ate, so my grandfather would mix the sauce from the dishes in my rice before bringing me my meal, and if I ate well he would chuckle and pat me on the head. In my memory, my grandfather’s hands were very large and warm. [5]

When I was young, my family had a small factory, and the cook at the factory cafeteria was a really good cook. When I had nothing to do during the summer holidays, I would go and watch him cook and I learnt a lot of cooking techniques from him. Most of the dishes I know how to cook are Sichuan cuisine, and the finished products are all pretty presentable. The first time I cooked was during the Lunar New Year – I cooked a full table of dishes for my family, and although it’s so long ago that I don’t remember how the food tasted, I still remember the pleased smiles on the faces of my family members. Probably because of the affirmation I received when I was young, I have always taken great delight in cooking, so I often cook for my friends and colleagues. When I’m at home and not away filming, my house is basically their communal dining hall.

With a messy kitchen, a dining table laden with piping hot dishes, and three to five friends getting together with laughter and jokes, even being in the big city of Beijing doesn’t feel so lonely anymore.

[4] This drama series was filmed in 2017 but put on the back-burner for a long time. After the success of Word of Honour, it was eventually released in April 2021 under the title The Player (指尖少年). Gong Jun is also currently the new spokesperson for the PC version of the game.

[5] Gong Jun’s paternal grandfather passed away in 2015, four years before the publication of this book.

–

Chapter Five

No longer wandering aimlessly along this limitless and boundless path to growing up, but seeking victory through experiences, finding a direction, and always searching.

Art On!

Art On! (艺术生) [6] is a coming-of-age drama series about youthful inspiration, with art students as its main characters. As an art student myself, I really empathised with the challenges the characters faced working towards the university entrance exams/auditions.

Dance is the second most important skill that all art students have to learn, but for someone like me with very bad physical coordination, it was a real challenge. Before we began filming, all the actors went for about half a month of classes. The different stretching exercises were a nightmare for me, but I gritted my teeth and bore with the pain for half a month. Filming Art On! was like reliving my days as an art student in university. Other than the dance classes that I couldn’t get the hang of, everything else was more or less familiar to me, so it was much easier to get into the role.

The straight-A student with a guilty conscience

Other than the dance practices, another challenge I faced for this role was having to understand how it felt to be a straight-A student. In the drama, my character is an all-rounder and high achiever with perfect grades, but in real life I’m the complete opposite. I think most guys don’t like studying when they’re young – this is my personal opinion, and maybe I’m just giving myself excuses for my poor results. Anyway, there are always many outstanding students in school, but I was never one of them.

I’ve never stressed myself about school. The classroom was the best place for naps and internet cafes were my favourite haunt. I slept during classes and only woke up to play computer/video games after school, and sometimes I’d even play truant so that I could spend more time playing games. Before I started preparing for my university entrance exams/auditions, I had probably never put in any real effort in my studies. It was only after I became an art student that I decided that it was time to put in some effort towards my own life.

An accidental occurrence

The university entrance examinations are an extremely stressful period, an army of thousands trying to cross a bridge made from a single plank. By the time I realised that I would actually have to study to get into university, it felt like it was already too late. But sometimes life is like that – just when you’ve given up hope, the gods will give you a bit of candy.

One completely ordinary afternoon, three teachers came to visit our class. After one week of observations, one of the teachers pointed at me and said, “Could you please step out.” Just like that, the door to the examinations/auditions for art students was open to me. I worked hard to learn the skills needed for the auditions, and every day was rewarding, happy, but also very tiring. Fortunately, I soon received the acceptance letter for Donghua University in Shanghai.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if the teachers hadn’t walked into my class that day, or if I had played truant again and hadn’t been in school? What would my life be like now?

Youth, in all its glory

There’s a song that goes, “Youth is a journey where you may stumble and fall, but when you look back on it, there’s beauty in it” [7], and I think that’s exactly what it’s like. Art On! brought me back to a university campus and made me feel like I was reliving my university days. All the big story arcs and little details brought back so many memories of those four years.

It is the best age, the best time to shape up into the best version of yourself. There were a lot of students learning together, and most of our days were pretty mundane. But whenever we had to put up an actual performance, there would be a lot of laughter. Because we were all inexperienced actors, our performances were very unstructured, and when we watched our classmates perform, we didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

My university days were filled with both laughter and tears, and it was both the easiest and the toughest time. Being reminded of a single moment can lead to endless reminiscing, a beautiful memory of youth. I remember that one chef on the first floor of Cafeteria No. 2 made really good claypot rice, I remember being scolded by the lady in charge of the dormitories for secretly cooking hotpot in the dormitories, I remember the banners under the parasol tree where you could confess your crush, and I remember riding my bicycle through the breeze that made my short hair slightly messy.

[6] This drama series was filmed in 2017 but has not been released, although there are rumours that it might be released at the end of 2021 or in 2022.

[7] 《小幸运 (A Bit of Good Fortune)》by Hebe Tian.

–

“Only when one travels can one hear their own voice. It will tell you that the world is bigger than one can imagine. In this world, you will meet many opportunities, but you will never meet ‘God’. You have to find your own way.”

一 Spirited Away, Hayao Miyazaki

–

Chapter Six

I had a cup of hot coffee in my hand, or perhaps it was a cup of warm milk tea – I forget. All I remember are the opportunities and tribulations that came and went.

Unique Lady (绝世千金)

As a newbie, my acting experience and life experiences are both limited, so I enjoy getting the opportunity to experience new things during filming. Unique Lady is adapted from a text-based adventure role-playing game titled Lascivious Lady (好色千金) with a very Mary Sue protagonist. My character, Zhong Wumei, is arrogant with a dark side, sharp-tongued but secretly kind-hearted, a domineering prince who will choose righteousness over love. The part about this production that left the strongest impression on me is that the director would step in to fill whatever roles were required when we were short of actors, playing both male and female characters. He was very good at helping us figure out where we needed improvement, and it was always very entertaining when he dressed up for female roles.

Creating a “Domineering CEO”-type character for costume dramas that stands out from the rest means coming up with new gimmicks. The director gave me a lot of suggestions and inspiration when I was figuring out the character, and I really must thank him for his guidance.

My personal “Doraemon”

I really am quite a lucky person. I didn’t experience much hardship when I was growing up, and a lot of people took care of me when I went to university. In my second year of university, my seniors from school linked me up with some jobs filming commercials. That was my first taste of working life, and my first practical learning experience. After graduation, I stayed in Shanghai and filmed commercials for a year, but gradually I realised that as an actor, this wasn’t what I wanted from my career or pace of life. So I decided to move up north to Beijing.

In the cartoon series Doraemon, the main character Nobita has a round blue friend that he can always count on – I have a round friend who is always by my side too, my biaoge (older male cousin). My biaoge is very plump and fair, and with a full beard on his face, he may look quite fierce. But in reality, he’s a very kind, sensitive, and meticulous person. He’s given me a lot of help along the way, and I discuss a lot of things with him. Initially, I was quite anxious and uneasy about moving to Beijing, but even when faced with the unfamiliar and unforeseeable future, I knew that my biaoge had my back. He helped me with renting a place and the little everyday things, so that my move to the big city went smoothly and comfortably.

A strong support team

Many people who come to Beijing to find work may find that it’s full of hardship and really not easy, but things have gone pretty well for me since I’ve come to Beijing, and that’s my bit of good fortune. I haven’t experienced anything that has been particularly unbearable or upsetting since I’ve moved to Beijing, and things have been fairly smooth-sailing both in work and in my personal life.

Soon after I moved to Beijing, Chai Ji Dan-laoshi found me through Weibo, and I was casted in my first ever drama series, Advance Bravely – so thank you Dandan-jie.

Since I started my career, I have found that the difficulties of being a newcomer, the struggle to make ends meet, and preparing for the daily grind, have not drowned my passion and enthusiasm for this place. Instead, I feel that these experiences have made my life more real and added flavour to it. I have been able to adjust to and accept these unfamiliar things because I have my team, Biao-ge, my cousin, and many, many people around me supporting me. Their help, guidance, and companionship have given me the confidence and a great sense of security so that I can persevere on my path. I know that I will face other difficulties in future, but I believe that I will still be able to overcome them with big strides and keep going forward.

–

“I didn’t remember what month that was, or what year even. I only knew the memory lived in me, a perfectly encapsulated morsel of a good past, a brushstroke of color on the gray, barren canvas that our lives had become.”

一 The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini

–

Chapter Seven

Fate doesn’t always come knocking, but when it does, it always arrives with a dramatic entrance. That’s why its other name is “Moment”.

Just a little drunk

The protagonist in Flavour It’s Yours (看见味道的你) was even more of a Mary Sue than the one in Unique Lady. In this drama series, I played a genius wine critic – except that my superhuman taste buds had to be awakened with a kiss, and that was the beginning of a strange love story.

In my opinion, when filming romantic dramas, you have to know each other very well. Once you get in character, you must imagine that you really are the character in this story. When I was filming Flavour It’s Yours, I convinced myself that I was indeed Lu Weixun, and I really loved the girl who was standing in front of me. To make a character come alive, you have to invest real feelings when you are acting out the scene. But once filming is over, you must step out of the character and live your own real life.

Flipped

One of my favourite movies is Flipped (an American romantic comedy released in 2010, with the Chinese title 《怦然心动 (Fluttering Heart)》). “Every once in a while, you find someone who’s iridescent, and once you do, nothing will ever compare.”

Finding someone you like is easy, but finding one who matches you is a little bit more difficult. Liking someone is about finding them attractive, feeling positive about everything they say or do; but the transition from “liking” to “matching" each other means you will end up taking on some of each other’s qualities. This is a process that nobody else can get in the way of, a communion of two souls and a promise to guard and protect each other. With such a relationship, you can find comfort in each other’s company, and you feel the simplicity and purity of the connection.

Many people spend their youth being involved in all sorts of heart-rending and gut-wrenching romantic relationships, but I seem to have spent most of my youth playing games and hanging out with my buddies. Looking back now, I’m actually quite envious of people who’ve experienced earth-shaking, passionate romantic relationships.

I can’t give you a definite physical description of my ideal type of girl or tell you what kind of personality she should have. But when she does appear in my life, I will take her hand bravely and invite her into my life.

–

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts.”

一 Darkest Hour (a 2017 UK war drama film)

–

Afterword

I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m already on the way there.

This is a letter to myself at the age of 26, as well as a summary of my life so far. A lot of unexpected meetings and events have happened in my life, but luckily, all of them have been beautiful and fortunate accidents. Both the joy when things are going smoothly and the pain when things are not going well are stepping stones for the long, arduous path to the future, so that I can keep improving and become a better version of myself.

In the past, I often felt lost and confused, but now I’ve finally had the time and energy to sum up all the things that have happened in my life and work so far. This book, 1129, marks the beginning of a new phase of my life, and is also a farewell to the phase that has passed. Whether the path ahead is going to be a field of flowers or a sea of thorns, I will face it filled with confidence and courage. After all, I’m already on the way…

With thanks to

I would like to thank all those who have accompanied me and supported me, giving me energy and strength. Their appearance in my life have helped me so much, and I am thankful to fate for bringing these people into my life and giving me the chance to know them.

A note in Gong Jun’s handwriting that is printed at the end of the book:

I’ve used the scenery I’ve seen along the way (as a backdrop to the photos in this book) to present this image of myself: someone who doesn’t have very intense desires, but also someone who doesn’t like a bland life. Like the majority of people, I am unexceptional but real, and both sincere and genuine.

Along the way, in both the happy and sad times, all of you have been there with me, sharing your warmth with me. I am thankful for your unwavering companionship and your constant unchanging warmth. To me, you are all priceless and rare treasures [8], and in the blank pages at the end of this book, I hope you can write down your own feelings and give it the perfect ending.

Gong Jun

[8] The phrase he used was 夏代有工的玉; literally translated to “jade with workmanship from the Xia Dynasty”, originating from the poem 《可遇不可求的事 (Things That You May Chance Upon But Cannot Seek)》 by Chinese novelist Feng Tang. The Xia Dynasty was the first dynasty in Chinese history (2070–1600 BC) and the jade items that survived from that era were almost never polished or worked on, so it’s a metaphor for something priceless and incredibly rare.

[pupiiaye]

Reminiscence of Violence //. A yandere Diluc x GN reader.

They were a virus, a disease that needed curing, a simple tune that needed listening. They were a pill, an addiction if you will. He had to have it, he craved it more than the bloodlust that trickled through his veins and caused up a storm. What exactly was this feeling? Why did he feel it? Why was it more intense than the deaths and bloodshed he's seen a thousand times over? And why… why did he want it so badly? Why did he want to rip it from its core and feast upon it like a starving man? Tonight, he will have his answer.

Fair warnings: knife play, character death / threat implied, possessiveness, spankings, dirty talk, a rather dark Diluc, markings.

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The stars in the sky glistened above them, whispering secrets told from different lands, different stories. The clear wind danced through trees, kissed against skin, leaving their invisible mark against the bare flesh. It was not odd to be seen wandering around the grassy plains of Mondstadt, travelers and knights had duties to attend to, commissions to complete and bounties to conquer. Moonlight blessed those who decided to wander without any real reason, the wanderer in question being a simple soul. One who had found themselves living amongst the city of freedom for quite some time. Not a knight, but a fair citizen who took the pleasure in helping others. They didn't consider themselves to be a savior, nor did they consider themselves to be someone without any purpose. This was the main reason as to why they've managed to catch the eye of /the/ the richest man in Mondstadt.

It goes without saying that this was rather impressive, everyone can see the clear hook they had on him. The addiction they provided without even doing as much as lifting a finger. Their eyes screamed of excitement, and in return the ex knight's heart would scream with desire. Diluc, quiet noble man who had his morals, his regrets, and his fancies. Diluc, the man who didn't take pleasure in affairs or hit offs, the man who cared not of looks but of trust and genuine emotions.

This drove a man crazy, off the walls even. It was not of hate, but confusion as to why or how one person could pull the heaviest of beats out of his once dying heart. Frowns that once covered his features turned into ones of admiring grins, turned into little smirks whenever they would ramble and rant about their passions. Beauty, they were littered with it, from the very gleam of irises to the movement of plush lips. Archon's, he wanted to taste them, wanted to nibble and bite into those moving pillows they called lips. He wanted to make them bleed and bruise after getting done with kissing them, and would he stop there? Absolutely not.

His daydreams were becoming worse, and the only thing that could snap him out of them were the blissful sounds of laughter. The symphony of little chuckles mixed in with a breathy hiccup of air. Oh, he knew this sound like he knew the scriptures of poetry, this sound was one he got drunk on. Instead of wine, he could listen to his baby's sweet giggles until death slayed him where he stood.

The reason as to why it was happening, however, was enough to make a man see red. How dare he? How dare that betraying drunk prick, the simple audacity of this … Fool. Was he asking for another death wish, perhaps? Did he wish to watch the flames of hell rise once more? Did he want Diluc to throw him out in the coldness of oceans and watch him choke and gasp and cling on to whatever breath of fucking air he could get? So many questions, not enough action. The solid glass in his hand could shatter from how tight he was gripping it, however Diluc was a man with pride, a man with patience and logic on his side. He would not yell, he would not allow his nerves to get the best of him. What he will do, is way worse than a simple “get the hell out” will do.

“Sir Kaeya, last time I checked, that was your fifth drink as of tonight. I suggest you wrap it up quickly before it gets too dark.”

The words were not of an option, but rather one of a demand. Those blazing embers Diluc called eyes were boring into a crystal one. He did not care where Kaeya went, how he got there, or where he will end up. All he knows is that he best make his decision quick before patience thinned out. The look he got in return did nothing to calm his raging pulses of blood either, he could kill this man given that chance again. This time, Diluc wouldn't forget it.

“My, what a rush… Pardon me, Master Diluc. I was not aware you had other things to tend to, throwing me out so soon. Or do you wish to have them to yourself, hm? Very well, I mustn't interrupt your … Desires. Just do not have too much fun whilst everyone are away, it would only make me jealous. Ain't that right, sweetheart?”

This chattering baboon talked too much, he was too touchy with what clearly belonged to Diluc. He did things too much, talked too smoothly, acted as if they had any interest in him when Diluc knew for a fact who the real winner was. As expected, Kaeya always thought certain things belonged to him, and for once in his life Diluc had the urge to be as competitive as his brother.

“Are you quite done? Hurry up and take your leave, or do I have to throw you out myself?”

Venom laced with every word, hands turning white from how hard he gripped onto the table. Mark his words, when he's done laying claim, this man was next on his overdue hit list. His thoughts were so loud that he didn't even hear his brother mocking him before the tavern doors closed with a squeak. So loud that he didn't even hear his soon-to-be — no, that's not right. They are his dearest, his love, his desires, and everything more. Right? Why would they look at him with such concern if not were true? Why would they touch his arm and smile so sweetly if not for him? Did they not come to him, and only him when scared, if not because they held dear feelings that he too reciprocated? They loved him, it was plain as can be. They adored him even, yet they were too shy to admit it to his face. Figures, Diluc knew this, he knew them more than the back of his hand. They just need a little help expressing It, right? Especially with the way they were chatting and laughing up a storm with his dearest, soon to be dead, brother.

Clouded eyes came back down to heaven, that heaven being the warm smile of his love. That's so much better, he didn't want to see that smile directed towards anyone else but him, it wasn't their fault. They didn't know that they belonged to Diluc yet, and that was okay. This is why he must teach a very simple lesson. One that will engrain itself in their memories until death.

“I find it funny…” eyes hands smooth over the wooden surface of the bar stand. He took in the smoothness, the patterns that followed along his fingers. “I find it hilarious even, how he thinks you belong to him when we both know that isn't true, right?”

What was that expression they wore? Confusion? Oh, how Diluc loved it when they played stupid, they were nothing of the sort. Perhaps they wanted to entice Diluc further, pull him in deeper, so he could ravish them against this here bar stand. Yeah, that's exactly what it was, Diluc could tell, he knew the signs all well. Being the observant man he was, he would not allow this one to wiggle free from his dangerous palms.

Slowly, gloves slowly began their journey off of slender fingers. Those red eyes burning into ones of a pretty little thing, just waiting to be taken. Their body screamed to be claimed and taken over by, but not just for anyone — no. He danced those same eyes up and down, taking their time to design the way they'll look, shivering and begging for more of him. He took his time imprinting the thought of them choking on air as he drew breaths and sweet words out of them. Bare hands reached for the blade tucked away in the waist band of his pants. Hands gliding over the wooden surface as long legs carried him out to where they sat. Confusion on their face turned into one of interest, and oh Diluc could not wait until that face of theirs turned into one of pleasure, pain, and agony. He wanted to make them beg, scream, chant his name like a god-damn song. It will happen, he's sure of it. They had nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. The only thing saving them from Diluc's hands was Diluc alone.

“Now, I hate to be the giver of bad news, but he doesn't own you. You do not beckon to his every call, and you certainly do not belong to him. Your thoughts, your words, your actions, even the way you move…”

A small sigh, eyes casting down on sweet thighs that were soon to be marked with the carvings of his name

“You know it all belongs to me, correct? When you lay in bed, and you drift your pretty head to sleep, you are aware you dream of me, yes? When you bat those eyes and look up … At me, you know I am the one who controls that seemingly empty head of yours, right?”

There's so much silence, but Diluc has enough patience to see the way their legs clench at every word, could hear the way their breathing thickens and stutters in the back of their throat. That's all he needed to see to know what he was saying was nothing far from true. Finally, hands are reaching forward, moving to caress and then cup at warm cheeks. Blushing, he can tell just from how abnormally hot they were. Their temperature is never this warm, he should know since he memorized their normal body heat.

“So you do know that. Then why is it, why my pretty flaming flower…”

Remember back when he thought he had patience? Apparently he had thought wrong of himself. He found his hands gripping tightly to their jaw, the free hand coming down to cup at smooth thighs. Oh, oh how they flinched so beautifully in his grasp, oh the hopeless look in their eye made his dick sing. They way they didn't resist, the way their thighs rubbed together. Their body was so damn honest, what was he to do? How could he not take them when they were basically asking for it?

"Why is it you let him touch you? Why did you allow him to touch and flirt with something that clearly belongs to me? Answer me, quickly."

He saw their mouth open to talk, and for a moment he had nothing but the thought of making them choke on his cock. Soon, not tonight, but soon enough.

"I'm sure he wasn't flirting, Diluc. You know Kaeya, he talks with charm, theres nothing I can do about that."

Wrong move.

A deep breath was taken before a hot hand reached up to grab at their arms, pulling them up just to twist them around and push them against the edges of his very own bar.

"Give me a good reason why I should not mark this body with my name at this moment."

He didn't give them time to answer, too busy trailing the edges of a blade down their clothed back. No matter, they do not need to talk all too much. Diluc only wanted to hear their cries and begs, nothing more nothing less. "Tell me that you desire me. I need to hear you speak your truth before I continue, I already know that you do so do not try to lie to me, dear flower."

His words spoke deep into their ear, tone clear and free from hesitation. And when their lips opened to plead for him, oh it made it all the much better. His pride hit the ceiling, he knew it. All those signs from before were so true, and now he was able to hear it for himself, soak in those desperate words of, "yes Diluc, please take me. Make me yours, please." oh how polite they were, always so obedient, always listening out for any command. What a good pet they were, what a good flower they were.

The sounds of material being cut open filled the thick air, along with those rough fingers feeling up the smooth of their back, enjoying the way his canvas felt right under his flaming tips. Diluc could not wait to sink his teeth in and taste their sweet necture himself. Those eyes drunk up their topless form once more before trailing the knife further down, he had other days to take his time with them. Tonight they were his to destroy and break down.

Lips and teeth ran free on their body. Leaving purplish marks against sweet tender skin, his knife work not being cut short. He made sure to tear at their bottoms leaving them in nothing but the bruises he had gifted them. Their sweet moans and whimpers filling his ears, filling his desire to ruin them even further. He wasted no time in running possesive hands down their waist, grabbing at thighs just to pull them apart. The squirming under his palms not going unnoticed, infact he laughed something dark at the way their body twitched and pathetically squealed under his touch.

'Look at you. Isn't this just pathetic, if it were any other day I would give you the honor of laying under my damn boot just to watch your body squirm for me. Just to watch it beg for me to continue, Archons look at how you move, and you expect me to just stand idle while others try and get of piece of you? No, I refuse."

It didn't end there, his touches only got more intense. Grabbing a handful of their ass, manhandling it under a rough smack was placed upon them. Oh he hoped that left a bruise, he hoped that with another smack they would cry out /louder/ for him. He deserved to hear. After nights and endless nights of not being able to see them under him, Diluc deserved to watch them grow more desperate for him.

"Look at that, look at you squirm for me and not him. Listen to the way you call my name and not his. Do you know what that is? It's the signs of you belonging to me, nobody else but me. And if I catch anyone, and I mean /anyone/ putting their damn hands on you I will make sure to take you in front of them. That is a promise, my flower."

He made sure they could feel his now slicked up warm fingers prodding at their entrance, the dark chuckle exiting from his lips and into their burning ears. The warmth of their gates of heaven fans against his fingers and diluc can't help but groan out in pure need. Oh how crazy they make him. With caution diluc moves his fingers in, one and then the next and then the next after that. Each finger slipping inside once pained gasps turned into ones of satisfaction and greed. They were so good for him, taking him like he was no damn problem. As expected of course, it were only his fingers after all, but soon...

Sounds of metal and then thick clothing could be heard hitting the ground. Their ears can pick up the way diluc's breathing deepened, showing signs of how badly he needed this just as much as they did. Hot hands suddenly slam on either side of them, their skin touching so they can feel how hot Diluc was at the moment. No words were spoken while a hand came behind them, caressing that sweet throat just to pull their head back. Lips coming in contact with their own, connecting in this brutal dance of love, crazy untammed and dangerous love.

This was a great time for him to distract them, leading his aching cock with the other free hand he had. Poking at their entrance with the demand to be let in, eyes glowing with determination. Inch by inch walls wrapped tight around him loosened up the more they took him in. Archons the way they arched against his chest and lips trembled against his own, the way they whimpered and furrowed their eyebrows, gods help him for he is a man weakened by the simple sight of them breaking down.

"That's it... There we go, you take it. You take it like the good bitch you are, yeah? Look at you, god damn look at you. Do you think kaeya could make you react like that? Here allow me to help you answer that."

Hips finally got sent flying home. Making contact with their skin, kissing at the thin layer of sweat, evidence of how much work was put in. Diluc felt his grin widen, something so foreign to his features, yet he invited it in whenever they were involved. One hand came down to grip at those hips, pulling them back home to the base of his cock every single time. They cries, oh their sweet cries encouraged diluc to destroy that willing hole of theirs. The tears that began to bubble up brought him nothing but satisfaction, the gush and mess made was art against his now squirming canvas.

"Harder. Cry harder for me if you wish to cum, I promise you I'm not allowing you out of this damn tavern until your tears beg me to. You can squirm and gush all over my fucking cock as much as you please, but until I start seeing some real tears... Well, baby love, you can kiss Kaeya goodbye, would be a shame for him to lose a friend, hm?"

This was followed by harsher thrust, his dick swelling up to the brim, damn near ready to explode and unload deep inside of their aching fuckhole. Oh but the harder they teared up and rushed out with tears, the more diluc couldn't help but wish to fill them up with his thickening seed. His hand on their throat growing tighter and tighter until one more thrust sent them jerking against the edge. Hand now moving to their head, pushing them down until their faces squished against the wooden table. He kept them there while hips rolled his name out against their ass, unloading his cum inside of their shivering walls. Feeling them clench and gush with their own orgasm, oh how proud he was to know they knew when to cum. How proud he was to know that his flower could milk him for everythiing he had.

"That's it.. There we go, you are so good for me, sweet flower. Unfortunately I am not finished with you."

Diluc, a man who will never be satisfied until things were perfect. Diluc , a gentlemen , a man who only believed in trust and hard work. Diluc, the man who could go more than one or two rounds. Diluc , the man who made them scream until their throat went dry and their vision went blurry.

Tonight he laid his claim, and much like many other nights, he will make sure the entire city of Mondtstadt knew who they belonged to.