#i love my autistic friends and boyfriend

[imnotasalad69]

davekat but they havve silly shirts bcs silly shirts are like the SHIT.

how tumblr feels after ruining the image quality: 😈😈

this is me and my best friend btw

[youreviltwin]

losing my fucking mind

[youredyingthatsallthereis]

there is no limit to the amount of projecting i will do in my fanfictions. you will all read my thinly, barely veiled narratives. you will listen

roach who wasnt diagnosed w autism until age 29 when he’d already been in the service for 7 years and after a lifetime of nonverbal episodes that he didn’t understand developed selective mutism after a particularly traumatizing op but he has to hide his formal diagnoses so he doesnt get medically discharged so captain mactavish and lieutenant riley go ham and do everything in their power to keep him on the team because fuck if they’re lettin their boyfriend go

[voiceshearingyouloud]

I was doing kind of okay in terms of how crushing it is to miss my partner so badly but I think it was mostly cause I was so busy with other stuff because I’ve had a two hour train ride and it really hit me just how much I can’t imagine life without them and how badly I want to fall asleep next to them again and then I started crying 👍 this may also have been in part because I was listening to taylor swift but that’s how it goes sometimes

[foldingfittedsheets]

A friend I had briefly in my teens years was this girl in Arizona. She was a junior when I was a freshman, and as I was socially awkward and very lonely she kind’ve pulled me under her wing for a while. I don’t remember how we met, but I remember riding in her car and meeting her cute miniature Doberman.

But the thing I remember most about this girl was that she loved lying to me. And I had a massive but I acknowledged crush on her so I adored being lied to. Her natural charisma and storytelling was hypnotic.

It’s not what it sounds like because it wasn’t malicious but she came up with this in depth lore to tell me about this fake job she had. I know autistic people are meant to be credulous but I truly never believed her stories, I just adored her storytelling and was very ready to listen to whatever tale she spun that day. Another of her friends chided her once for teasing me but I genuinely never minded.

In her lore she moonlighted as a Professional Liar. People would hire her to get close to a target they wanted rattled. She’d make friends, develop a strong relationship, foster a dependency on her, then disappear. Then when they were confused and missing her sometime when the employer needed their target rattled she’d show back up as a glimpse to knock them off balance. Often it was implied she’d faked her death in the interim.

That itself was fine, it was an okay story. But in order to support that lie she’d make up tons of supporting details that were way more fun. She had this fake boyfriend who got high as balls on a mission and ended up seeing a sheep in a field and carrying it to a farmhouse to try to buy it because he wanted a puppy. I liked that one but suspected she didn’t know how big sheep were.

She’d IM chat with me as this made up boyfriend sometimes; once she had him ask me if I noticed her limping and he told me she’d just lost a toe but was covering for it like a champ. That one was fun.

She told me about something she called “purple charge” which was a way to get instant night vision. I did try looking that one up on the off chance, but was sadly disappointed there.

She said that Professional Liars had such high stakes jobs that they needed a week of insane time where they just partied so hard it was like a Dionysus rave and her IM boyfriend persona implied she’d killed someone during one of those stints.

I had such a fun time with her elaborate fiction that I’d often ask follow up questions and she had to do a lot of world building to keep up with my fascination. We’d get to class and I’d have three or four new questions which I think is why her friend thought her teasing was too far. They genuinely thought I believed her but I was just loving the fiction.

If any of this sounds malicious I’ll also add that when I got harassed on a roleplaying board she went out guns blazing to go after the guy who’d been harassing me. She genuinely enjoyed my company.

I find myself looking back on our friendship very fondly. I can’t remember her last name or have any way of looking her up, but she really was a professional liar to me. The only downside is that I’m completely faceblind so if she ever wanted to pop unexpectedly into my life I’d have no idea it was her.

[stimmingandstruggling]

my dream for a modern live action death note:

- it takes itself completely seriously. i want ZERO irony/making fun of itself. i need some actor man to take a potato chip and eat it with total seriousness.

- light and L have an insane amount of tension, i’m talking destiel levels of eye sex and queerbaiting, but they are never allowed to kiss. maybe when L dies they get one ambiguously queer line. but it’s gotta stay at least a little bit ambiguous

- misa isn’t explicitly homophobic anymore but she is like That #ally (just more subtly homophobic) (obviously shes gay but she doesn’t know that yet). instead of “are you on THAT side of the fence ryuzaki” she’s like “it’s FINE if you’re gay but light is MY boyfriends and i just don’t think it’s APPROPRIATE” and L just ignores her completely. she claims L as her Gay Best Friend despite him never confirming if he’s queer and her not really liking him. for Diversity

- she’s like i can’t be homophobic i do a pride month photoshoot and L is like okay. i don’t care

- focus on how the 24 hour news cycle, overwhelming access to information, and constant fearmongering and doomscrolling drives light fucking crazy (sorry i have to be weird about light here)

- instead of a magazine light very blandly watches porn on his laptop. looking actively bored. L doesn’t say explicitly “your son is gay” but he looks over at soichiro and says something like “hm. he’s popular with girls, you said? okay.”

- some awful misa and light sex scene but it cuts between that and light at L’s grave, their months handcuffed together, etc. hannibal style or something idk i’ve never seen it i just got a play by play from a friend

- naomi gets a bigger part because she’s awesome

- light and L are stuck in ambiguously queer purgatory but rem is very explicitly in love with misa. they kiss once before she dies and from then on misa seems a little more subdued with light. like she’s not so sure she really wants him

- when the detectives are talking about L someone mentions how he’s “on the spectrum” and everyone nods seriously. later it’s mentioned again and L overhears and he’s like you can just say autistic. everyone apologizes profusely but he does not give a shit

[itneverendshere]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was supposed to be fun?

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

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

This was definitely a mistake.

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

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

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

Rafe Cameron.

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

Until now.

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

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

You blinked at him. “Me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

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

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

“So, what’s that book about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

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

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

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

What the hell had just happened?

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

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

It was Rafe.

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

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

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

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

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

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

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

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

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

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rafe, I swear—”

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

You hated every second of it.

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

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

“Stop staring.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gawked at him. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You learned that the hard way two days later.

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

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

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

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

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

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

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

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

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. No, no, no.

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

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

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

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

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

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

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

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

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think I’m lying? 

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

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

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

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

Always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[catgirl-kaiju]

i have a transmasc friend who has been feeling really bummed recently that he hasn't seen much in the way of transmasc positivity on his dash, and i see how much it impacts his mood and self esteem. i care about him a lot, so i want to do a little something to maybe help raise his spirits a little bit:

share some memories of trans masc folks you know or have known, who left a positive impact on your life!

i'll start:

here's to a boyfriend i had years back! he was a very autistic demiboy with a reptile special interest and a love for aquariums! we'd go visit a small local herpatarium together, and he'd tell me all about the animals there. his excitement was contagious! he even had a pet snake who was so cute. we both loved Pink Floyd, and i really treasure the time we spent sharing music with eachother!

here's to a friend i had back in Texas! he was a really warm and chill dude, always so kind and patient. he loved his community and organized a local trans social group so that we could have something more laid back than a support group. he was a scholar in queer and jewish history, as well as jewish theology, and i learned so much from him.

i have a friend now who is a very kind and sweet guy. he's been there for me in some of my darkest moments and is a delight to be around! he is a very skilled cook and baker who helps make incredible food for our household. he has a passion for hair and has helped everyone in the house with cutting and styling our hair. he loves musicals, and i've learned so much about musicals from listening to him and watching movie musicals with him. i could say more, but i know this post is going to be long enough as is lol

[hyperlexichypatia]

At some point I have to unpack and describe the specific intersection of factors that led to my specific experiences with food shaming (and all related topics like sizeism, ableism, neurobigotry, healthism, ageism, etc).

As a a fat, autistic, ARFID-ite who's consistently been treated as younger than I am, and with scandalously non-abusive parents (how dare they vaguely accept me as I am without beating me into submission!), a lot of the food shaming I've experienced in my life was based on treating me more as a "spoiled child" than as a "fat woman," even after I was clearly the latter.

Food with my extended family or parents' friends or anyone older than myself was always a site of shaming how spoiled I was, how overly permissive my parents were, how rude I was for not eating what I was served (specifically for that -- I wasn't actually doing any "rude things" like commenting negatively on the food, demanding alternate food, or anything like that! But simply not eating what I was served, as a Young Person, was "rude".)

I was also heavily desexualized and somewhat degendered, so it wasn't "You're an unsexy woman because you're fat and ugly, not thin and sexy like a woman should be," it was "You're a spoiled brat picky eater who needs a spanking." Up through age. Like. 24.

And I realize, please believe me, I am very well aware of what an incredibly privileged problem this is. I was stigmatized because my parents weren't abusive? What kind of problem is that? Everyone else was dealing with actual problems, like actual abusive parents!

So my point isn't to complain about my problems, it's to say that food-shaming takes many forms. I was reminded of that when I saw an otherwise good, innocuous post about getting along with family at Thanksgiving, that included something about "Don't ask teens if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend, ask them about their hobbies, or what they're most looking forward to on their plate!" and I was suddenly filled with anxiety, because, no, don't do that. If you had asked Teenage Me what I was most looking forward to on my plate, I would have assumed that you were admonishing me for only having two foods on it, lecture me about how I can't have dessert if I don't eat my vegetables, nagging me to "Just try it," and possibly throwing in some remark about "Back in my day, if we didn't eat what we were told, we got a whipping!" Questions about my nonexistent love life would have been comparatively less fraught.

Don't comment on people's food choices. Don't comment on kids' food choices. Don't comment on teens' food choices. Don't comment on adults' food choices. Don't comment on people's food choices.

Don't ask teens if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend either, although, if that tradition must continue, I'd at least like to add age balance to it. If you ask a 15 year old if she has a boyfriend, she should legally be allowed to ask you how your divorce is coming.

[drdemonprince]

I am always clutching to my idealized reality firmly with both fists. Whenever my hair looks good in a photograph, I immediately get to stressing about the fact that my hair has already grown some imperceptible amount since when the image was captured. Then I cut it, hoping to restore it to its former perfection — and my head gets completely mangled by my clippers and shears. I deny myself my favorite foods and drinks sometimes, knowing that the meal will too quickly be over. The moment someone begins to love me is when I start picturing them dead.  Many late-realized Autistics develop relational patterns that therapists label codependent, controlling, or Borderline. I wonder how much of our supposedly dysfunctional attachment can be attributed to our desire for constancy, and our attempts to impose stability on a reality that forever shifts. For Autistics, most social interactions are mystifying and seem to play out on their own, largely beyond our control. Possible rejection hides in every corner, much of it unforeseeable to us.  Doesn’t it make sense we’d try to control what we can?  When a partner remarks that he’d like to get a bigger mattress, I want to chop off the sides of the bed to force our bodies closer. I want to hiss at every new person that enters the friend group to scare them off. Though all my queer loved ones are enlightened polyamorists, whenever someone I love starts texting someone new I fantasize about slipping away with their phone in the night, unlocking it, finding the new contact, and blocking the threat into oblivion.  I don’t do any of this, of course. But in my selfish, rotted heart, I want to be like Hannibal Lecter, drugging his patients and hypnotically conditioning Clarice to be in love with him. When I learned that Jeffrey Dahmer drilled holes into his lovers’ heads and filled the cavities with hot water and bleach to keep them from abandoning him, I could kind of understand it. And I hated myself for it.  I don’t actually have the stomach to be violent. My war with reality happens only inside. Besides, I know that if I were actually to try and control another person’s life, it would just send them running away. I learned that the dozens of times that I completed boyfriends’ homework for them, paid their rent, wrote cover letters for friends’ job applications, and inserted myself into fights that weren’t mine. I have tried to pull at others’ strings to keep them all happy and around me, but it only ever sent them running away, sad tangles of threads left round my fingers.  People like me must be why Autistics have a reputation for being cold-hearted, unfeeling, and unable to recognize the interiority of anyone else. I’m an anarchist in principle and a lover of my own freedom, so I would never wish to impose my will onto another person. I am terrified of the urges for control and permanence that lurk inside me. I’m afraid of where they might take me, and so I never give voice to them — In fact, I rarely give voice to any of my desires at all.  I let people do what they will without ever voicing my opinion. That’s the only way to truly avoid becoming the Dahmer in my mind. My method of control is to ask nothing, and give everything, hoping that one day another person will notice and choose to be devoted to me.  But even then, they’d change on me. It’s in the nature of all living things. 

I wrote about the Autistic fear of change, where it comes from, how it affects our relationships, and the many ways that we attempt to cope with change, both for good and for ill. It is free to read or have narrated to you on my Substack.

[venuscrashed]

could you please you do a miles 42 x male reader who is autistic and can’t pick up on subtle hints and sarcasm and is just over all a very forward and blunt person just straight up tells people what they think and doesn’t sugarcoat things at all

Sorry if I get anything wrong, I’m not autistic nor really educated. FEM READER DNI

First meet:

The first time you met him he thought you had a problem with him. He was about to throw hands, but something in the back of his mind told him not to.

You two were talking for a group project and somehow got off topic. It ended up being a conversation about clothes and you straight up went “Yeah, I like your hair but your outfits kinda weird. I like the shoes though.”

He stared at you and so did the rest of the group. They all thought something was about to go down until your friend popped up saying you do that and mean no harm.

”Well aren’t you a ray of sunshine.”

”No not really.” Then you went in with the project, leaving everyone a bit confused.

Confession:

He was frustrated, screaming into his pillow every night. Venting to his mom and uncle about your obliviousness.

Yes, he knew you were autistic, but it still bothered him. He would straight out flirt with you, no shame whatsoever, and you still didn’t get the hint.

“If I got into a relationship I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Cool.”

When he confessed he had to make it so obvious. He had a sign and some candy and went to your apartment at night.

The sign said “will you be my boyfriend?” Can’t get more obvious than that, can it?

”Is this sarcasm of some kind of prank?”

He climbed into your room, discarding the candy and sign. “No. I would like you to my boyfriend.” He looked you in the eyes, “I’d like to be with you. Now and forever.”

“I don’t know about forever…” you both chuckled at this. He knew you weren’t lying but he’ll keep you, one way or another. “I’d like to be your boyfriend to.”

He cupped your face and kissed you softly. Enjoying the moment that he knew will forever be engraved into his mind. “Could use some chapstick.” He’s second guessing his thoughts.

Relationship:

He’s always by you. He’s like a guard dog, if someone hints at something he doesn’t like, he’s staring the down until they leave.

If they say it out right to your face, you’ll have to hold him back. But it’s fine, you usually say something back.

”That’s irrelevant, like you.”

He was in the floor laughing about it, proud to. He even told his uncle and that’s when his uncle knew he liked you.

Although it’s a little hard when Miles wants something. If he hints at it it goes over his head. “You know I’m cold and lonely over here.” “Get a blanket and just talk to me.”

He appreciates your honesty…somewhat.

”That color doesn’t look good on you.” “…thanks.”

”It’s not your best cooking but it’s not your worst.” “I’ll keep that in mind.”

”Maybe-“ “No.”

He loves you.

Just stop testing him from time to time. and if anyone says the same thing, he’s about to send people to the hospital.

[just-antithings]

The anti mindset is far more damaging to real life than any ship I've ever seen. The reach of it has made it so that I can't even openly be with my Actual Real Life Boyfriend(tm), because they'll call it abusive - and the thing is we're not even sure which one of us would be called the abuser! Is it me, for being a white girl dating a black guy nearly six years younger than me (note - both adults) ? Is it him, for being a lot taller and stronger and richer than me? Is it abuse not on those grounds, but because I'm autistic while he's neurotypical (as far as we're aware)? What about the part where I'm bi, but in a relationship with a man anyway - am I doing bi erasure? The privilege-points system they seem to operate with is broken, it doesn't work because real people have layers - what should take priority, height or race or disability or age or financial status or sexuality or what? I hate that "I love you, and you love me, and we've had conversations about how we are going to navigate our relationship and its nuances, but don't tell anyone because we're going to be outcast from our community if you do" is a thing we've SOMEHOW cycled back to. I have to call him "just my best friend" and he is, of course, but the word I want to use is "soulmate", and it KILLS me. (Please only post this if it's anonymous, thank you.)

.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Oct 3rd

~*~

1. any fics where Yu Ziyuan dies so she's not an influence to her family or Wei Ying and their lives, not modern stories please. Be well!! Thanks!! @monicaop21

~*~

2. ITMF wangxian pirate au:) i would enjoy rating M/E but it doesnt have to be, as long as it's 5k+ and finished. can be a personal rec if you have!

~*~

3. hello again :D I'm wondering if you have any wangxian fic recs for crossdressing lan wangji? Either where it's something he really likes or where he's kind of disguising his identity (and wei wuxian sees him like that hehe) preferably completed works, 40k or up, but I'll take what you've got! :) @a-fire-that-isnt-burning

Bunny Baby by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 9k, WangXian, Modern AU, College/University, LWJ Has Feelings, Soft WangXian, Gender-Nonconforming LWJ, Protective WWX, Bad Parent LQR, Fluff and Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, POV WWX, Autistic LWJ, [Podfic of] Bunny Baby by frostedhearth)

🔒 (i've got) trouble in mind by seularen (E, 76k, wangxian, JGY/LXC, modern w magic, heist au, thief WWX, forger LWJ, consigliere JGY, epistolary, long-distance relationship, d/d elements, Canon wangxian kinks, happy ending) IIRC it's just one scene late in the fic but it's AMAZING

autumn flower by ScarlettStorm (E, 63k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, no magic vague north american setting, transwoman wwx, transwoman lwj, Gender Experimentation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gender Dysphoria, followed by gender euphoria, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, switch rights) This isn't exactly what the OP asked for but it's close enough that it might be interesting - modern LWJ realises she is a trans woman and explores clothes, makeup etc with WWX's help (she is also trans but realised and transitioned before the start of the story)

as thou wast wont to be by cqlorphan (E, 12k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, LWJ has Some or No gender, wwx is raising little a'yuan, Bottom LWJ, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, mentions of vers!wangxian, Cellist LWJ, Farmer WWX,…ok he runs a nursery but it’s the Vibe, Minor Injuries, Hurt/Comfort, Trans LWJ, Fluff, Smut)

so hot you’re hurting my feelings by isabilightwood (E, 40k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, Modern, Oblivious LWJ, Didn’t Know They Were Dating, no moms were harmed in the making of this fic, mama lan took LQR in the divorce, LWJ Has Friends, all wwx characterization decisions were made to make lwj pine harder for his own boyfriend, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Halloween, WWX’s birthday, Sub LWJ, Light Dom/sub, Spanking)

~*~

4. itmf fics where it shows lwj and wwx's journey to intimacy and closeness that ultimately culminates to their first time having sex <3 no wips, if possible! ty in advance uwu

the hidden source is the watchful heart by o_honeybees (E, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Domesticity, Touch-Starved, Grief/Mourning, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Unresolved Sexual Tension,Eventual Smut, reflections on selfishness and selflessness)

call me home and I’ll build you a throne by anaphoricae (E, 51k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Post-CQL, Canon Compliant, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Self-Indulgent, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Touch-Starved, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sexual Intimacy, Lán Juniors Gossiping about Wangxian, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Farmer WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Mutual Pining, Communication, Quietly Falling Into a Married Life, Light Angst, Wholesome, POV LWJ, POV WWX, LWJ in braids agenda, Sharing a Bed, Semi-Public Sex, Inventor WWX, Jealous WWX)

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (M, 28k, WangXian Post-Canon, Getting Together, Love Letters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, Intimacy, CQL Compliant, No Plot Just Feelings, First Time)

my age has never made me wise by idrilka (E, 63k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Part-epistolary, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Homecoming, One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again)

~*~

5. Helooo!

I'm in the mood for a fic where Lwj actually believes Wwx birthed a-Yuan.

~*~

6. I am in the mood for fic where there is focus on Lan Zhan and Nie Huaisang relationship. Because both of their older brothers became sworn brothers together and I wonder what Lan Zhan and Nie Huaisang thought about it. Were they jealous and felt replaced? It would be cool to read fic where these two would become sworn brothers as well to gang up on their older brothers:). I don't think I have ever read what they might have thought about whole sworn brotherhood trio.

NHS&LWJ are friends Series by Katalyna_Rose (M, 14k, WangXian, LWJ & NHS, ChengSang, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant Epistolary, Sex Education, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Pining, Implied Sexual Content, mostly book canon, but i borrow some characterization from the drama as well, Light Angst, Crack, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chief Cultivator NHS, married wangxian, Established Relationship) is an absolute must.

level 50! by artsy_alice (G, 8k, NHS & LWJ, WangXian, ChengSang, Modern with Magic, Childhood Friends, Developing Friendships, Fluff and Humor, the sangcheng and wangxian are background stuff, super light angst for like 0.2 seconds) it's not canonverse, but is lwj&nhs friendship focus

~*~

7. Hi, im looking for a fics where wei ying is female and survive. Its telling her married stories with lan zhan @xeravielle

our close and kindred ties by exmanhater (E, 41k, WangXianXi, Pregnancy Kink, Incest, almost incest, Post-Canon, Gender Changes, Always a Different Sex, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Sex, Riding, Vaginal Fingering, Established Relationship, Situational Incest Only, POV Outsider, Pregnancy, Family Feels, Fluff, Incest Adjacent, Threesome - F/F/M, Relationship Negotiation, (slight) Pregnancy Kink, Kid Fic, Parenting, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Double Penetration, LWJ is a service top, Strap-Ons, Anal Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Restraints, Parenthood) always female!(wwx and lwj), focuses on their post-canon married life

~*~

8. i'm in the mood for a fic where wwx is abused and tortured and lwj rescues him and nurses him back to health <3

🔒 Heart of hearts series by apathyinreverie (M, 40k, WangXian, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It Kind Of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, ridiculously self-indulgent, Not Cultivation World Friendly)

some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Road trips, rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, Awkward Conversations, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, [Podfic] some good mistakesby kisahawklin) might also fit but you don't see Lan Zhan nursing Wei Ying back to health in this one (you learn of it second hand).

Dream a little dream of me by Moominmammashandbag (M, 60k, WangXian, SangYu, Prison, Hair Washing, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, mentions of torture, Mention of dismemberment, Coming Out, Anxiety Disorder, Anxiety Attacks, goose!NMJ, Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Incest, Dreamwalking, Angst with a Happy Ending, JZX Lives)

❤️ nightingale Series by Moominmammashandbag (M, 62k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, LQY/JC, Pseudo-History, No power AU, Empires, Discussion Of Murder, aftermath of war, prisoner exchange, Grief/Mourning, LWJ POV, Angst, Emperor JZX, Imperial Advisor LWJ, widower LWJ, JYL is the Empress the world deserves, Happy Ending, POW WWX, Reunions, Fluff, Smut, Dysfunctional Family, Poetry, BAMF LWJ, emotional support goat, poetry as a weapon, Injury Recovery, Rehabilitation, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Body Image, Self-Esteem Issues, Married Life, Domestic Fluff, Childbirth) And I think others by the same author

~*~

9. i recently read Practical Considerations and really enjoyed it. so i wanted to ask if you know any similar fics where wei wuxian helps with running the lan sect either on either the administrative side or as an important leader!

it’s really fun to see wwx’s other talents explored cause we never really see much of that

I’m Going Out (Gonna Make A Name For Me And You) by cosmicmilktea (T, 16k, wangxian, post-canon, chief cultivator LWJ, Mentor WWX, intersect relations, slow burn, sickness)

And Yet Here You Are by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Cloud Recesses, settling down, Separation Anxiety, Teacher WWX, very light angst, Chief Cultivator LWJ)

~*~

10. Any fics where wwx, mxy, and xue yang (with their similar features) are actually all related? (Perhaps even half brothers, some sect leaders sure get around, maybe cangse and her hubby had a reason to nope out the cultivation world)

~*~

11. Hellour! For the next imtf, i have some requests

A) a fic where maybe after wwx's resurrection, jiang cheng isnt angry but relieved? Like he cries or hugs or apologizes to wwx. (Please no wip!)

B) any fics where wwx or lwj changes gender and the other has to take care of them, like through periods and stuff. Aus dont matter. (Please no wip!)

C) one where instead of jiang cheng, nie huaisang and wei wuxian as a trio, what if there was another trio? Maybe lan wangji, wei wuxian and xichen? Nie hauisang, lan wangji and wei wuxian? Just one where lwj has some friends( in the millions of fics i have read, lwj only rarely has friends) it can be the jin siblings even. Au dont matter. (Please no wip!)

Thank you so much for all you do^-^ @just-troy0-0

11A)

The Twin Blades of Yunmeng by GhostySword, ofmindelans (T, 89k, JC & WWX, wangxian, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, BAMF JC, protective LWJ, Golden Core Reveal, Swords and Feelings, WWX Resurrection, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Embedded Images, Sect Leader QS)

A Bell That Tells Us to Rise and Fight by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (T, 120k, WangXian, ChengQing, XuanLi, SongXiao, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Everyone Needs A Hug, Women Being Awesome, BAMF Women, Minor Character Death)

11C)

🔒 in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric) Lan Zhan becomes friends with Nie Huaisang

Orchids in Lotus Pier by Vamillepudding (G, 21k, wangxian, canon divergence, romantic comedy, pining, protective JC, friends to lovers, misunderstandings) Lan Zhan befriends Jiang Cheng

~*~

12. In the mood for fics where Wei Wuxian gets his original body back? I mean, I know there's already a fic comp with fics like that, but I need more with just "Wei Wuxian getting his body back" fics. Thank you!

~*~

13. I'm looking for canon era fics which ooze depression, sadness, misery with every word in them. I want to read extremely miserable, living in a shell, disoriented, closed off, silent, SILENT , depressed Wei wuxian.

Happy endings only. @constellationdks

🔒🧡 rain falls and soaks into the earth series by RoseThorne (T, 60k, WangXian, WIP, Near Death, Depression, Psychological Trauma, Justice, Fear, Angst, No War AU, Attempted Murder, Bad Parent YZY, POV Third Person, POV LXC, Podfic Available, Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Romantic Gestures, Recovery, POV LWJ, Trauma, Dissociation, Courtship, Courting Rituals, Eventual Happy Ending, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Protective Siblings, Soup, Triggers, Protective LWJ, Protective LQR, Yúnmèng Siblings Dynamics, reference to poisoning, reference to assassination, Reference to chronic illness, reference to infanticide, Minor Injuries, Painting, Gift Giving, WWX Has a Fear of Dogs, Good Sibling JC, Good Sibling JYL, BAMF WWX, Jealous SS, WWX Protection Squad)

~*~

14. hiii for itmf i was wondering if y’all had any really good modern aus?

synesthesia by uchiuchi (T, 28k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Strangers to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining)

through a window softly by impossibletruths (T, 14k, WangXian, Modern, College/University, Neighbors, Music, They Play Music Together But They’ve Never Met, It’s very romantic, Graduate School, WWX Is Doing Music Education and LWJ Is Doing Composition, Music As Love Language, Just A Whole Lot Of Classical Music In General, Podfic Available, Spanish Translation Available, Russian Translation Available)

🧡 CSI: Gusu Edition Series by Stratisphyre (M, 39k, WangXian, WWX & LQR, Modern with Magic AU, College AU, Golden Core Reveal, Single parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Hospitalization, Allusions to violence and murder)

one good thing by Yuu_chi (T, 26k, WangXian, Modern, Ghost WWX, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, I swear there really is a happy ending, And an alarming amount of rabbits)

🔒 The Life Cycle of the Frog and the Fish by Aerlalaith (T, 53k, WangXian, Reincarnation, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Sort Of, Reincarnation, Mystery, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Illnesses Curses, References to Illness, Modern with Magic)

the family-dodging bathroom-dwellers association by yukla (T, 5k, WangXian, bathroom meet-awkward, commiseration over uncomfortable family dynamics, the undeniable romance of meeting someone who is in the same awful situation as you, typical jiang family interactions, Humor, Modern)

🧡 Hello, IT. Have You Tried Turning It Off and On Again? By overmountainandmeadow (T, 65k, WangXian, Modern AU, Office, Modern office AU, IT Director! LWJ, Graphic Designer! WWX, Father!LWJ, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Juniors as interns, Light Angst, Mistaken Identity, Identity Porn, Rabbits, Cloud Recesses as a company, Happy Ending, Single Parent LWJ)

The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental Baby Acquisition,Kid Fic, explicit in much much later chapters, green card marriage (but not really), pining for your own husband, endless pining, Slow Burn, Happy Ending, Nothing else bad or traumatic happens to the baby, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer)

~*~

15. ITMF please! Can I have your favorite BAMF!WWX fic recs please? Just WWX being absolutely brilliant and smart and being able to survive bc of it. Tysm!!

A Life Without Regrets by naqaashi (M, 163k, WangXian, JFM & WWX, JC & WWX, WRH & WWX, LXC & LWJ, LQR & LWJ, LWJ & NHS, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Crack Treated Seriously, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Murder Husbands, PTSD, BAMF WWX, Cultivation Sect Politics, Genius WWX, Cultivation Theory, Sentient Burial Mounds, Dysfunctional Family, Grief/Mourning, Angry WWX, No Golden Core Transfer, BAMF LWJ, Angry LWJ, One-Braincell WangXian, Idiots in Love, Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Soft WangXian, Married WangXian, Soulmates, Not Cultivation World Friendly, Immortal WWX, Canon-Typical Violence, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang friendly, not gusu lan friendly, Immortal LWJ)

We’ll Build A Dynasty (one the heavens can’t shake) by One_eyed_God (T, 66k, WangXian, WWX & WQ, WWX & WN, WWX & JYL, canon typical Jiang family dynamics, BAMF WWX, Canon JC Characteristics, POV Outsider, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, WWX is a Wen, Sect Leader WWX, Genius WWX, The Casual Intimacy of Hand-Holding, A Love Letter to WWX, Not JC Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It)

🔒 Whatever you do by apathyinreverie (T, 8k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, somewhat darker cultivation world, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, BAMF LXC, don’t mess with the twin jades, not Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, WWX is appreciated, genius WWX, everyone is a little darker in this, except for WWX, who is still sunshine personified, Fluff, Possessive LWJ, Gusu Lan would like to send Yunmeng a fruits basket, as thanks for their idiocy, Fix-It)

Time Charm by Jenrose  (E, 141k, wangxian, later queerplatonic LWJ/WWX/WQ, LXC/JGY/2nd Madam Mo, time travel fix-it, post-canon, everyone lives au, genius inventor WWX, BAMF wangxian, first time, pregnancy, childbirth, asexual character, aftermath of time travel, telepathic bond, slice of life)

the field meets the wood by astronicht (T, 7k, WangXian, BAMF WWX, slight whump, Ritualistic Self Harm, Canon Era, Tang Dynasty style, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, salt economics, Post-Canon, [podfic] the field meets the wood by jellyfishfire, [Podfic] the field meets the wood by semperfiona_podfic (semperfiona))

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 138k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together) multiple podfics and translations into multiple languages available

~*~

16. Hi! Do you guys know any fics where Wei Wuxian kind of embraces the duties of Madam of the sect? Like, really start to take over the planning, the logistics, the care for the people and maybe is even called Lan Er Furen or Lan Furen? May thanks!

By Any Other Name by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 31k, Wangxian, Canon Divergence, Crossdressing, Misunderstandings, Identity Porn, Identity reveal) in which WWX takes on a cover identity as JC's (female) cousin and basically takes on the duties of Madame Jiang to the point that everyone *assumes* he's JC's betrothed (he isn't, its a wangxian fic)

The Housewife's Guide to Causing Chaos by dvasva (M, 127k, WIP, WangXian, Canon-Typical Violence, Functionally Trans Character, Mild Sexual Content, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, Transphobia, Good Parents LWJ and WWX, Pining, WWX is a Tease, Grief/Mourning, Body Dysphoria, Fake Marriage, Canonical Character Death, Misunderstandings, Doting LWJ, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, WWX is not in MXY's body, Misgendering, Mild Angst, Assumptions, Comedic Elements, non-sexual nudity, Blood, Discussion of Various Bodily Functions, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, 4 years of mourning instead of 13, Méishān Yú Sect, POV Multiple, Corporal Punishment, Trans WWX, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, pregnancy mention, Timeline What Timeline, Sexual Harassment Threats) WWX resurrected in the body of LWJ's (OC) wife. Less heavy on the logistics/clan management but iirc there's some

My Leaves Reach Ever for the Sun by nonplussed (T, 26k, WangXian, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fix-It, Crossdressing, Idiots in Love, Sharing a Bed, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies) actual "Madame"/sect duties stuff is mostly in the epilogue but this is a really fun fic about WWX undercover as LWJ's wife (endgame wangxian) Maybe these two also:

So You Want to Start a War by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 41k, WIP, MY/QS, MY/WWX, WangXian, Reincarnation, Half-Sibling Incest Mention!, QS does the ritual instead of MXY, WWX as a woman, MY Is His Own Warning, Canon Divergence, Impersonation, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Please check the notes before reading a chapter, Timeline What Timeline, WWX Has PTSD)

Wei Wuxian, Who's That? by bumbledees (T, 48k, wangxian, crossdressing, pining, sibling feels)

~*~

17. wangxian history @shy248

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[chrrywvea]

poolverine + sensory overload while grocery shopping anyone? taken from personal experience and the mountain of poolverine fics i've consumed already

disclaimer: if any of the aspects i've written for logan being autistic (it isn't mentioned but this was my intention here) are offensive or falsely written tell me immediately! i am undiagnosed but after quite a lot of my friends (both on the spectrum and not) telling me multiple times to get checked and TONS of research i'm pretty sure i'm on the spectrum as well. soooo this is basically what i've gathered from research, other fics and my own experiences with stuff like this. thanks! also minimal use of slightly stronger language (the f word, hurray :-D)

this is so bad i'm sorry

They were in the sweets aisle, trying to pick out various snacks for their movie night later on. It was bustling all around them, the small supermarket full with families and screaming kids and chatty old ladies and noise, so much fucking noise-

Logan flinched when something touched his cheek, belatedly realizing that Wade stood in front of him, their half-filled cart discarded by their side and one of his hands raised to his face.

"Sorry sweetums," Wade smiled sheepishly, "Didn't wanna scare you. You looked a little out of it. Breathing a little heavy and all"

Logan harrumphed, looking at the floor between them. Wade was wearing his bright neon pink converse again, the laces red on one side and yellow on the other, which was admittedly... cute. He remembered how proud Wade had been as he stumbled out of the bedroom with poorly conceiled excitement, shoving his shoes in his face because look peanut, our suits-

Once again he was forced out of his head and back into the disgustingly loud supermarket as Wade took his hand, gently stroking over his knuckles.

Logan managed to rip his gaze back to Wade's face, finding such genuine understanding in those lovely eyes that he felt even more queasy than he already did. Damn you, Wilson.

His head spun from the onslaught of everything, noise and lights and embarrassment forcing a very unwelcome wetness to gather in his eyes. The hand Wade was holding shook lightly. His whole body trembled. Fuck, he wanted to say something, wanted to assure his boyfriend that he was okay, but his throat worked, his mouth opened, yet nothing came out.

"Hey" Wade's voice was so soft. He didn't flinch this time as his hand came to rest on his cheek, the touch featherlight and warm.

An embarrassingly high whimper left him as some shrieking children passed by and his eyes screwed shut, trusting Wade to handle the rest.

And suddenly...

Wait.

Madonna quietly played in his ears?

Confused, he cracked his eyes open and saw Wade watching him, holding his phone up for him to see.

"Don't worry your pretty head Wolvie, you've got noise cancelling headphones on. Courtesy of moi, if you please, buuut you gotta suffer through my shower playlist for the time being. It's the only one I have downloaded."

An opened note read. Wade mouthed a "sorry" at him, but the sheepish grin told him he wasn't. At all. Though Logan knew him well enough, so very well, that if he even mentioned that it was too much Wade would immediately switch it all off.

Logan had to admit, the music dialed the incessant chattering and shouting around him pretty much down to zero.

The wonders of technology, he supposed.

Wade held his hand and waited patiently as Logan just breathed for a bit, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. One jerky motion to the phone and the mercenary handed it over, watching as Logan typed with unsteady hands.

"Can we leave please? S too much"

The note was so timid, so careful in fear of rejection that Wade felt his poor heart squeeze in his chest - gosh dang it if only people knew how gentle and loving the man in front of him was.

"Sure hun we were pretty much finished anyway. You good if we go check out real quick? Al's gonna cook us instead if we don't bring something back home, and while you taste pretty good I can't promise that for myself ;-D... we can use the self check out, it's quicker"

Logan surprised both of them with the huff of amusement that left him as he nodded.

The focus he needed to use to read Wade's rambling in note form kept him safe from getting lost in his head again. His boyfriend’s ability to talk forever beyond might be pretty annoying at times, but Logan had long since found it to be comforting.

Wade carefully guided both of them through the maze of food aisles and too many people, keeping their hands intertwined while he pushed their cart until they found a free self checkout.

Logan zoned out a bit to the mindless music that played over the headphones as Wade went through their groceries, bagging them quickly. He payed before turning around to face him, motioning to the exit with his head.

They stopped just outside the store in a small secluded corner and Wade put the bags down at their feet, stepping closer and smiling again.

Logan smiled back, hoping it could convey the relief and love he felt without having to use words. He leaned closer, a little shyly, and with a quick look around he pressed a kiss to Wade's lips, reveling in the vibrations of a slight whine he could feel from his boyfriend. They parted and Logan took a deep breath in, pushing the air out of his lungs a lot more calmly than he had done mere minutes ago.

The headphones came off next and Logan sighed, shaking off the last bit of the sensory overload he'd just experienced as he scrubbed over his eyes. It was far more quiet outside, and his head felt a little fuzzy at most instead of the stinging buzz from before.

Cars honked in the distance, a light breeze drifted past him and the man he loved stood right in front of him, Logan's supernatural hearing picking up the steady thud of his heartbeat almost immediately.

"Love you bub."

Thank you.

"I love you too peanut! So much. More than Puppins too, but don't tell her that. She's already peed in my shoes once and I can tell you, that golden shower was not pleasant."

Logan snorted and both of them giggled, sharing another soft kiss before they hoisted the grocery bags back up.

The way home was filled with banter, clumsy kisses and bumping shoulders. Maybe one or two spilled milk cartoons as well, but that was a secret between them.

(Oh hello! Wade here! Deadpool, merc with a mouth, your personal wet dream, whatever pleases you perverted little readers - if you even attempt to tell Al about that last bit I'll torture this one with a little more writer's block! /Oh thanks Wade, so nice of you/ Shush you, this is my side note! So many ideas yet so little words... you decide pookies. Bye for now! I've got 400 pounds of sleepy kitty in my bed who likes me as his personal pillow. See ya!)

[street-smarts00]

Hello, i would like to request a short little spencer reid x reader, since spencer is kind of autistic coded and he is shown to not understand some jokes or takes things literally, can you do one where reader is the same way, and somebody says a joke that neither of them get and everyone else around is like... wow they are perfect for eachother... and they are just so confused

Drabble: Sweet Like Sugar

A/N: I love this idea! Thanks for requesting! The only joke I could come up with is one from an episode of FRIENDS. Here's a lil dabble before I go into finals. I’m so mentally done with school and can’t wait for summer vacay in a week.

~560 wc

It was early in the morning and your coworkers were just showing up for work. You quickly dropped your stuff off at your desk before practically running towards the coffee maker. 

When you approached the counter Morgan was there preparing a fresh batch of coffee. “Hey sweet thing, how’s your morning been?” 

“Ask me after I have caffeine in my system. Maybe then my eyes will stay open,” you answered plainly as you reached for your mug.  

Morgan chuckled at your answer as he grabbed the coffee pot. “Well feel free to take the first cup.” 

The corners of your mouth turned up as you handed him your mug. “Thanks Morgan.” 

The two of you continued to make your coffee as Spencer approached looking for caffeine. When he saw you his eyes brightened. 

You and Spencer had just started dating and were feeling the buzz others might call “the honeymoon phase.” Spencer however would argue that what he was feeling was more than that. What he felt for you he felt long before you started dating. 

“Morning,” he greeted with a small smile reaching for the coffee pot. 

“Morning Spence,” you replied gleefuly. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow with a slight smirk. “How come he gets a warm welcome?” 

You pointed at your cup, “I told you, ask me when I have coffee.” 

He chucked, “That or your boyfriend?” 

Your eyes squinted at him as you tried to hide a smile. 

“Do you guys know if there’s any extra sugar?” Spencer asked. 

You turned back around to face him. “There isn’t any in the cabinet?” 

“No, it’s empty,” he replied as he pushed away things in his search for sugar. That small pout on his face you found to be adorable.

“Hold on, let me look for some.”

“Maybe stick your finger in his coffee, that’ll sweeten it up,” Morgan joked before taking a sip of coffee. 

Both you and Spencer froze to look at him with confusion plastered across your faces. Morgan could practically see the gears turning in your heads. 

“Why would she stick her finger in my coffee?” Spencer asked with a puzzled look. 

“That’s so gross. I wouldn’t do that to him, he hates germs,” you grimaced. 

“I didn’t mean it literally,” Morgan defended.

The joke was still lost on you both. You stood there trying to make sense of what Morgan said.

“It’s because you have such a sweet personality that touching his coffee would sweeten it up. Especially because he likes an ungodly amount of sugar,” he explained. 

A look of realization dawned on you both with quiet “oohs.” 

Morgan couldn’t help but smile at the reaction. He always knew you and Spencer would end up together. You were both so similar; your chemistry undeniable. You two acted like love sick puppies around each other, and it happened more often now that you started dating. Morgan would never complain though, he was pleased to see you both happy and with your person. 

“Wow, you guys really are perfect for eachother,” he remarked before walking away from the kitchen. 

You and Spencer both turned to each other and shrugged, not fully grasping what he was insinuating. 

“Hey Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

You finished stirring your creamer in your coffee, “Would you say I’m sweet? Like Derek said?” 

He wrapped his arm around you and leaned down to kiss your temple before whispering in your ear. 

“The sweetest.”

[regregregulusblack]

My official intro post . ⋆✮ ˚ . ✩°｡⋆｡

𝙷𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘. My name is Regulus Black, and no, you are NOT allowed to call me Reg or Reggie.

A photo my friend Evan took of me without my permission. I will never forgive you, @barbie-wants-to-be-me-fr !!!

I am intersex and I go by he/they pronouns. I don’t like to label myself, but at least I am not straight. I am single and not looking for anyone at all at the moment. I am also autistic and have ADHD. NOT the wild sort. The fucking-tired-bitch-stfu-sort.

My interests:

• Art

• Quidditch (I’m a seeker)

• Poetry (both reading and writing)

• Reading books

• Defence of the Dark Arts

• Analysing every single lyric in every single Taylor Swift song and crying about it

• Makeup

On this blog I will be posting quotes, poetry, art, photographs and selfies and just silly little things that I feel like sharing. If I see any posts about me, I will read them and BEWARE, I will be critical. So you might see me around :) You have been warned.

You will also probably see me having chats with my friends, @remus-lupin-offical is one of them but I’m still waiting for my other idiot friends to finish making their bloody accounts. I will add them here as soon as I can! Update: Took as them long enough, but now they’re also on Tumblr! People you will see me interacting with:

• @sirius-thesstar (Ew)

• @remus-lupin-offical (Why’d you choose my idiot brother as your boyfriend? You’re better than this.)

• @the-real-marls-mckinnon

• @xxcassiexx Dorcas Meadows, a Slytherin I have deep respect for. Say hi to Dorcas!

• @barty-not-barry (My batshit crazy friend)

• @pandora-notyetalovegood (Fellow Slytherin, say hi!)

• @lily-evans-for-ya (In a world of annoying people you are a nice person. Take it as a compliment or don’t. It’s up to you.)

• @captainjamespotter (Annoying Gryffindor)

• @stolemyheelsfromlegolas (DO NOT CALL ME REGIANO FFS) (MARY YOU HEAR ME?!)

• @barbie-wants-to-be-me-fr (Another lovely Slytherin asshole, he and Barty should just shut up and kiss by the way)

• @ur-local-peter-pettigrew (Gryffindor)

• @itty-bitty-bella (Cousin)

• @therealcissyblack (Cousin who loves me :))

• @andro-black (Cousin AS WELL)

• @the-best-slytherin (Luna, a fellow Slytherin)

• @yourfavouritehufflepuffgirl (Ew Hufflepuffs) (Ooc: I love Hufflepuffs)

You will see me arguing with my brother, @sirius-thesstar. Like, a lot. Don’t mind Sirius, he’s an idiot. If we’re arguing in French, do NOT translate if you’re a scaredy cat…

Do not interact if:

• You’re Sirius and you’re mad at me

• You’re a Gryffindor (yeah that goes for you too Sirius) (Slytherin is the best Hogwarts house)

• You’re transphobic

• You’re homophobic

• You don’t like me for some other reason

• You’re a Taylor Swift hater

I love Taylor. Don’t you ever disrespect her. Her new album only further proves that she’s a true poet. Even @sirius-thesstar agrees with me on that.

Other things I love are:

• Cats (I dream of having two black cats and naming them Phoebe and Ruby)

• The sea (It’s so calming to watch, but I HATE swimming. It’s too cold. And wet. Yuck.)

• The rain

• Conan Gray (No one can take his album “Superache” from me. Don’t ever try or I’ll bite you.)

Hope I’ll see you around! (Or not. Depending on my mood)

My tags: #regregregulusreg, #thetorturedpoetofthecave, #regussy, #regulussy

Random edit: Ooc: Eh so I’m a minor and I’m a victim of actual physical and mental abuse and I’m still going through stuff, so eh, “Reggie” might be talking jokingly about abusive parents and a tough upbringing on here and stuff like that… just know that that is my fucked up coping mechanism okay, and I don’t mean any harm, and please if you’re joking around with me about abuse don’t take it too far since it might be triggering for me. Thank you.