#i never look at my on repeat so that was fun!

[rafey-baby]

cw: stalker!rafe being creepy & stealing reader's underwear, suggestive texts from an unknown number & a stranger walking her home

wc: 2.3k

he’s been on my mind lately…happy kinktober xx

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The feeling of impending doom has been crawling up her bones for several weeks now. At first, she thought it was merely her imagination playing tricks on her; having watched one too many horror films with her friends but as the days went on and the feeling of unease continued, she began to feel paranoid. 

She kept feeling like someone was watching her; lurking in the shadowy corners of her house and following her every movement with a morbid gaze glued to her form whether she was out with friends or merely cleaning her living room.

She didn’t like it, didn’t know when it exactly began but she wanted nothing more than for the peculiar feeling to disappear.

She’d be changing her clothes in order to get ready for bed when suddenly a shiver would tingle along her spine and make her snap her head towards her window; trying to desperately catch some creep ogling her, so she'd finally have some sort of an explanation. Instead, she’d be met with nothing more than the leafy trees of her gloomy backyard before she’d quickly draw the curtains closed. 

In addition, lately she’d been having nightmares more often than usual; waking up in the middle of the night panting with her heart thudding in her ribcage and sometimes she could swear she felt the eyes of a stranger still lingering on her sweaty skin. 

Then one night, when she’s rinsing her mouth after brushing her teeth, her phone lights up with a notification.

unknown number

why are your bedroom curtains never open anymore?

look so pretty in your underwear…

4 attachments

The device clatters against the bathroom tiles when it slips from her hold as her eyes scan over the multiple pictures of her half naked; all taken through the glass of the large window in her room. A window she's lately been making sure is covered at all times.

She plucks it from the floor with trembling fingers and reads over the messages once more; heart rapidly thudding in her ribcage making it hard for her to think as her fingertips glide across the screen to type out a response. 

you

who is this?

im gonna call the cops

unknown number

do I scare you?

And instead of responding, she blocks the number. However, when the police arrive and search her house and her backyard, they find nothing. They merely tell her that it’s ’probably nothing serious, just some kid pulling a prank on you’ with an apologetic smile before leaving. 

A couple of days go by and she’s beginning to believe that maybe it was truly someone playing tricks on her when all of a sudden her phone vibrates with an incoming call from another unknown number as she’s boiling pasta for dinner.

This time, she decides to simply ignore it; choosing to believe it’s someone calling the wrong number for her own peace of mind. However, that’s long forgotten when a new message illuminates the screen and her breath gets caught in her windpipe as she scans it over. 

unknown number

breaking my heart here princess :(

you

leave me alone

unknown number

but that’s no fun, is it?

you

what do u want from me?

unknown number

want you to keep your curtains open more often

you

so u can take more pictures of me?

unknown number

can just watch if that’s what you prefer?

you

leave me alone

please

She repeats before turning off her phone for the rest of the night. 

She thinks he’s actually listened because no unknown numbers try to contact her for some time, causing her to turn less anxious by each silent day that rolls around. However, when she begins to notice that pairs of her underwear keep disappearing, her mind wanders over to the only person who could be behind it.

At first, she doesn’t think too much of the fact that she can’t seem to find her favorite panties anywhere, assuming she’s merely misplaced them. However, when a white lacy pair she saves for special occasions vanishes from her drawer she grows restless. If she hasn’t worn it in months, it should be where she left it, right?

The air suddenly feels like sand; poking at her lungs as if it’s filled with tiny rocks when she becomes aware of the fact that in order for him to steal her stuff he’s had to break into her home. Therefore, he’s been in her bedroom before and probably her kitchen, living room and bathroom as well. And the first time could’ve easily been weeks ago. 

Nausea steeped in dread grovels up her insides and sits heavy in her stomach at the realization that he could be in here right now.

If he wanted to hurt her, then he would’ve done it by now. Or at least that’s what she keeps telling herself in order to offer some form of solace for her troubled thoughts.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The following night she’s wiping her eyes clean of mascara by the sink when a text pops up. 

psycho stalker

someone came home late

have fun on your date?

Chills erupt on her skin as she peers down at the screen. After the all too tedious date she’s just had, she’s entirely too exhausted with his arduous mind games on top of it all; wants to bury herself under her covers and close her eyes for an eternity.

However, she’s not entirely convinced he won’t come up with another way to disturb her if she stops responding altogether as another message pops up.

psycho stalker

assuming not too much fun since you didn’t bring him home..

you

none of your business 

psycho stalker

was he boring?

talked about himself the whole time and didn’t ask a single question about you?

She blinks a few times because he’s not exactly wrong. How on earth did he— 

you

what the fuck is wrong with you

you’re following me now??

She tries to remember whether she saw anyone suspicious at the restaurant but she can’t recall anything out of the ordinary catching her attention. However, she wasn’t aware she was supposed to keep her eyes open for her possible stalker, which is why her brain isn’t being very helpful at the moment.

psycho stalker

just wanted to make sure you were safe

you

I feel very safe right now thank you

psycho stalker

someone’s got an attitude

that bad?

you

please just leave me alone 

psycho stalker

what color are your panties?

you

what the hell?

not telling you that

psycho stalker

want me to come over and find out for myself then? 

you

u wouldn’t do that 

psycho stalker

wanna bet?

She tries to even out her respiration because she does not want to find out whether he’s merely toying with her or if he’s actually being serious. 

you

…

black

psycho stalker

with the lace?

you

yes

psycho stalker

shit

that’s one of my favorites on you

you

you’re sick in the head

psycho stalker

that’s not very nice

did you wear them for him?

you

he wasn’t worth it

don’t think he would’ve even been able to make me come

psycho stalker

yeah?

need help with that?

you

not from you creep

why are you stealing my underwear?

psycho stalker

cause u don’t give me shows anymore :(

they’re a little dirty now but want me to return them?

you

you’re disgusting

psycho stalker

and you're up past your bedtime cause you like talking to me

you

I don't

gonna sleep now

please leave me alone

psycho stalker

sweet dreams princess

At that, she finally locks her phone; wishing she’ll actually be granted some well needed rest tonight.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

One night she’s walking home from the grocery store, mind occupied with the prospect of digging into the tub of strawberry ice cream in her bag as she’s messaging her friend who’s enthusiastically telling her the details of the kiss she shared with a girl she’d had a crush on for ages.

Then completely out of the blue, she bumps into someone’s sturdy chest. 

”Oh, I’m so sorry,” she's quick to apologize before she looks up and is met with blue sapphires that twinkle even under the dim street lamps.

They’re slightly covered by the guy’s chocolate hair falling into his face, resulting in him raking a hand through the strands as his brows raise, almost like he's surprised. However, that wouldn't really make any sense since she's never seen him before, she figures.

”S’all good. Wasn’t really looking either,” he rasps out as his intense gaze bores into her, almost as if he’s studying her; examining her every reaction.

”No, it was really my fault. Shouldn’t be texting and walking at the same time,” she forces out a laugh and tries to step away from him and continue on with her journey. However, he halts her movements when he speaks up again.  

”Shouldn’t be walking alone this late either, you know. All kinds of creeps out here just waiting for the opportunity to attack pretty girls like you,” he reminds her with a strange tinge to his voice that causes the hairs on her arms to stand.

She’s unable to pinpoint what it is exactly. She thinks his features are otherwise quite appealing but there’s something almost disturbing about his aura.

”I know, but it’s really just a ten minute walk. I’ll be fine,” she offers him a tight smile, timidly fiddling with the strap of her shopping bag.

”Why don’t I walk you home, yeah?” His offer comes out as something ominous rather than concern over her safety and the stillness of the darkened October sky surrounding them suddenly makes unease litter across her skin.

”No, I think I’m okay. Thank you, though,” she politely declines and tries to tiptoe away from his intimidating presence, albeit uselessly.

”It’s past midnight already, let me walk you,” he nearly insists; seemingly not accepting no for an answer as his tone resembles more of a demand now.

”O— okay, um…sure,” she swallows around the words and watches how the corners of his mouth tug up. What has she gotten herself into? For all she knows, this man could be a serial killer and she's just signed up her faith as his next victim.

The murky sidewalk is quiet as they tread along it and she keeps glancing towards him every now and then; reassuring herself that a sharp knife or a gun hasn't magically appeared in his hand.

Although, she thinks he wouldn't need a weapon to drag her helpless form into the woods with his much stronger arms. Under the obscurity provided by the old trees, he could easily strangle her until her soul would wither away from her lifeless eyes; getting his fix from leaving her limp body on the muddy moss as death kisses her cold, tear-streaked cheeks.

"Something on your mind?" His sudden question makes her jump.

"N— no, nothing. I just— have we met before?” She hesitantly asks, turning to look at him and noticing his gaze already resting on her face.

”Pretty sure I’d remember if we had,” his indistinct response is calm, too calm for her liking.

"It's just that, um, it's a small neighborhood and I've never seen you around?" She flits her eyes over to him, trying to figure him out.

"I don't live here," his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip; the ambiguity of his answer not soothing her racing brain in the slightest.

"Oh, okay...cool," she peeps out; trying to appear as nonchalant as ever, even if her breathing has turned fragmented and her head is spinning.

A gruesome smirk morphs his mouth at her obvious nervousness and for some reason, he appears to be enjoying this; finding crooked entertainment in her dismay.

He halts in front of her home before she’s even digested that they’ve already arrived at her destination. 

”How did you— how did you know this was my house?” She tentatively wonders.

”Lucky guess,” he merely shrugs with a smile that's nowhere near uplifting.

She blinks.

”Right, well, thanks for walking me...I’m gonna go now,” she squeaks out and takes a step towards the front yard.

”Sweet dreams, Princess,” he murmurs and her entire form tenses in response to the familiarity of the nickname.

”What did you just say?” Something dire bubbles up in her throat at the bizarre sense of deja vu.

”Just wished you a good night? You feeling alright?” He furrows his brows in what should appear as concern for her wellbeing but she notices something twisted glinting in his overly worried eyes; almost like some sort of sick satisfaction. 

”I’m— I’m fine. Just…tired, I guess,” she manages out as a crease forms between her brows and her breathing grows labored when his mouth curls into an almost sinister smirk. 

”You sure?” 

She flinches when he sets a heavy hand on her arm and he's suddenly all too close for comfort.

”Y— yes,” she tries to pull away. However, she unfortunately stumbles on her wobbly feet, nearly tumbling down on the harsh grass if not for his firm arms holding her upright by a grip on her waist.

"Careful now, don't wanna hurt yourself, do you?" He scolds her with a click of his tongue; steadying her with an intrigued narrow of blue gemstones.

"Sorry," a breathy apology escapes past her lips as her eyes flicker down to where his touch is burning her skin, even through the thick material of her sweater.

”Run along then, yeah?” He murmurs as he lets go of her along with a small push towards the right direction.  

Then she’s scurrying over to her doorstep, feeling his eerie stare following her; trepidation clogging her lungs as she decides against glancing towards him once more, closing her front door and making sure it’s locked, twice.

[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.

[dira333]

Blind Date with Tsukishima

Blind Date - Tsukishima x Reader

“And it’s going to be a Blind Date,” Hitoka points out. “I’m not telling you who it is. But he’ll wear a red scarf.”

“A red scarf,” you nod. “Gotcha.”

She squints at you. “You don’t wanna know more?”

“No, I’m fine.” You sigh. “Better to go in blind, right? Not like swiping on Tinder did me any good.”

She laughs heartily. “You’re too much in your head. You’re just like me! But he’ll be nice. Ah, well… he’ll be nice for you.”

It’s your turn to squint. “He’s not that nice to others?”

“He is!” She reassures you, already panicking. “I’d never say anything bad about him, he’s my friend. But he can be a bit brash at first if he doesn’t know or trust you. But he’s always respectful to authorities, I know that’s important to you.”

“Well,” you sniff before sighing. “I am too single to complain about that. Blind Date it is.”

-x-

“A Blind Date,” Kei repeats, dragging the words. “How old are you?”

Hitoka pouts. “It’s a cute idea!”

“Sure, for her. But you could tell me who it is.”

“But where’s the fun in that? Tadashi, back me up!”

“Tsukki-”

“No,” Kei shakes his head. “Don’t bother. I’m going to go along with it because you asked so nicely, but only this one time, okay? And don’t remind me that I’ve been single for too long, I know. Shush!” His hand snaps up just in time to cut off Kanji who’d just opened his mouth.

Kanji pouts but falls back again, throwing his arm around Hitoka for support.

“What is she going to wear?” Kei asks Hitoka. “A red scarf too?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “She’s got a big red hair clip that’s shaped like a flower. A Gerbera.”

“Oh, is that the exotic one?” Kanji asks, perking up.

“No, you mean Hibiscus,” Kentarou drawls before taking a sip of his beer. He rolls his eyes at the sudden attention. “What? Everyone knows those flowers.”

“Sure,” Kei drawls back, finding at least a little reprieve in the angry glare he gets in response.

-x-

Hitoka has a lot of friends, you realize, as you stalk her Instagram account.

But she’s very good at tagging all of them, be it work friends, old high school friends or all those other people she knows from dating a Volleyball Player.

You scroll back all the way to her first post in High School and come up with only three people wearing a red scarf around her.

Sure, that means nothing in the long run, but one of those people is a girl, and the other two are Asahi Azumane the Fashion Designer and someone called Tsukishima Kei, Volley Player.

It doesn’t take long to figure out that Azumane is happily married, the red scarf now tied around his wife’s neck. What a shame. He’d have been cute.

Tsukishima’s Instagram Account is private and you’re not going to embarrass yourself by sending him a follower request.

Koganegawa Kanji’s account, however, is public and he posts a lot.

From Selfies at work, Tsukishima glaring at him in the background to Group Photos at the Isekaya they seem to visit regularly, everything is there.

It doesn’t take long to find a messy video of the Gang, Tsukishima and someone with a haircut resembling a Tennisball engaged in the laziest catfight you’ve ever seen or heard.

Tennisballhead’s insults are not for the soft but Tsukishima draws back just as effectively.

So… you could be mistaken, but you’re pretty sure Tsukishima is going to be your not so blind Blind Date.

-x-

He doesn’t want to know, really. But then again, a bit of research doesn’t hurt, right?

Hitoka has only five girlfriends that she regularly mentions and posts on social media.

Two of them are taken, one is going through a complicated breakup at the moment as far as he’s aware, and the other two… 

There is no Gerbera hair clip in sight. Not even a hair clip with a different flower, though he doesn’t think Hitoka would mess up something that simple.

It’s two days until the Date and he finds himself scrolling through both of their Instagrams, looking for clues, pretending he isn’t interested at all

And maybe he wouldn’t have figured it out if not for Kanji’s big mouth.

-x-

The Diner’s nice, decorated in a western style.

You start salivating just at the thought of a milkshake with fries but busy yourself with the menu instead, sipping slowly from the glass of water you’d ordered.

You’re early, the result of a surprising eagerness to meet your blind date.

Someone brushes past you and you can feel it - the giant red hair clip snagging on something. You can feel the break before you hear it, watch helplessly as the fake Gerbera adorning the clip tumbles to the floor, only to be crushed under someone’s eager foot.

Your hair now flows freely around your face, a welcome shield from the outside world as you fight against the sting of tears.

It’s nothing big, the hair clip not even of sentimental value, but you can’t help but see a sign in it.

-

Tsukishima Kei is fifteen minutes late. 

You stare at Hitoka’s message on your phone, the innocent question of whether you made it to the Diner just fine. No sign that she knows he’s not showing.

Maybe he got held up at work? Does that happen to Volleyball Players?

“Have you decided yet?” Your server appears next to your table, chewing bubble gum and grinning.

Surely you’re imagining the smug curve of her smile.

“Just a minute,” you ask. “I’m waiting on someone.”

“Oh honey,” she drawls out with enough satisfaction to leave no doubt she’s enjoying this. “He’s not showing. Just accept it.”

“I-”

“Are we paying for that roast on the side or is that on the house?” A deep voice asks to your left and you both turn, surprised.

Tsukishima’s there, in the flesh, out of breath, and beads of sweat glistening on the bow of his lip. He looks like he ran here and you’re ready to believe it, no more evidence needed. 

“I’m sorry Honey,” he tells you with a voice so sweet you can only call it passive-aggressive. “The train got delayed and my phone was empty. Never letting Kanji play games on it to pass the time.”

“You’re forgiven,” you tell him simply, sending a pointed glare toward your server.

She catches herself, shuffling away with an apology but that’s too little too late. You know you won’t be tipping too well tonight.

Tsukishima slips into his seat, pulling the red scarf from his neck.

“I thought you were supposed to wear a hair clip?”

“I thought you were supposed to be on time?”

He smiles, clearly enjoying that you dare to fight back.

“Missed my train. Running over was faster than waiting for the next.”

“Mhm,” you eye him. “You sure you didn’t just want to show off your stamina?”

“Maybe?” He grins. “What about the hair clip?”

“It got crushed under careless feet,” you admit, trying not to feel sorry for yourself.

“Good,” he comments. “You won’t need it any longer.”

“Excuse me?” You ask, a little perplexed. 

A blush, as red as the Gerbera mentioned, rises onto his cheeks.

“No more blind dates?” He offers and you smile. “We’ll see about that.” 

- Bonus -

“How did you know it was me?” You ask, your joined hands swinging in between your bodies.

His cheeks are flushed from the cold, the wine and no doubt your attention as well.

“Kanji… Hitoka’s boyfriend. He mentioned your favorite food.”

“And?” You blink, surprised that this might have led him to you.

“I might have been stalking Hitoka’s Instagram. It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. “Well, you wear that red scarf a lot. Just saying.”

“You knew it was me?”

You shrug, unable to keep from smiling proudly. “Had a hunch.”

Requests open

[https-sourlimes]

— insights from a twin stranger.

– featuring: al haitham x gn!reader . . .

synopsis: curiosity brings you into a situation of encountering a supernatural phenomenon – a doppelganger of your pain-in-the-ass rival – which reveals interesting thoughts of his regarding you.

== { long fic as of 2k7+ words ; mainly fluff, slight crack, horror (if you squint) } ==

a piece written for @stellaronhvnters's ongoing stellaween fest! – pumpkin patch round with the doppelgänger prompt chosen for this fic.

forenotes: okay so i'm not good with horror but i tried my best... LMAO HELP... hope ur having fun reading this ^_^ (i'll use the "not celebrating halloween in my country" as a lame excuse for suck writing.) + how doppelgänger work in this fic may not meet the standards of those in mythopedia. not proofread!

"Doppelgänger?”

“Yes, doppelgängers, creatures of the ghost month festivity, they ascend once a year for a month-long of October in Sumeru. If you happen to meet yours, don’t hesitate, run.”

Cyno explained, sensing the curious eyes you attached to him, it wouldn’t hurt to just generalise a mythopoeia of his nation to a foreign researcher like you, would it? It was for the sake of your adaptation.

It has been a year of your research journey as a fontainian in the nation of wisdom; of course, you have already heard a word or two about Ghost Festival, their spiritual concept, a mere annual festivity held in honour of Sumeru’s history.

“Except… it has no longer been called ‘mythopoeia’, things have gone quite sophisticated since the previous year’s festivity.”

The mahamatra smirked upon the attention he drew successfully, a haughty huff escaped his lips.

“It appears that the two recent cases of the last festival categorised as ‘mysterious’ stirred up some word of mouth among the people. They stated that someone had already encountered such a supernatural occurrence. And because of that, this year, perhaps they are anxious about what is unforeseen, so earlier I was commissioned to investigate, but since you appear to be so intrigued…”

And, correct. That is the reason for the situation you are in right now, wandering in the woods to investigate the fiction-turned-real ghostly creature that practically leaves everybody terror-struck.

According to their words, doppelgängers are ambiguous, nobody is certain of your safety when being around them, perhaps you return safe and sound without any harbingers of bad luck curse upon your soul, perhaps not; but then they agree that the term “troublesome” is the closest word to address them if they have already messed around with you. But it’s the way they can easily morph into somebody’s appearance that got you so intrigued by the art of supernatural beings.

“There is still a possible theory that it is really just rumours, I cannot guarantee that you will have the chance to encounter that ghostly creature in real life.”

Yeah, yeah, whatever, Cyno. I’m out here in the woods now, aren’t I? You scoff at the recording of his voice line repeating in your head, observing the surroundings. Unsettling, you note, there are no monsters, fungus or hilichurls nearby, the mist covering above your head felt somewhat terrifying, it’s like something is signalling you to turn back or get lost in the typical horror movie dead woods.

In the dark forest, you approach a small cottage, and a gut feeling tells you that this is it: the potentially corrupted house they say based on how it looks from the outside. Old, odd, eerie with no light sources, constant rustles and the sound of water dripping from the rusty waterspout echoes on top is nerve-wracking.

You curse, gulping. You never should have gone out here alone, now that you recall Cyno’s suggestion on getting a companion to accompany you, by which he meant (with a teasing banter) that you should have gotten your ass rival – alhaitham to come along since he had already been interested in the same topic of issue just at the start of the ghost month. No, why the hell would I ask for his help when I can do this myself?

The more steps you take approaching that unusual cottage, the more alert and cautious you become, until the door creaks open with its screeching sound, the shivers simultaneously run down your spine.

“Alright, shitty spirit, are you real?” You mumble, exhaling in search of comfort. (I’d shit myself if I were you in this situation)

The interior of the cottage is heavily in a bad condition. The smell of green mould rushes in your nostrils, reminding you of the scent of rain on dampened oaks. On the floor, broken wood planks scattered around, mixing with pieces of a shattered glass window with its shabby frame hovering in the air with a slow and creepy pace. In the corner of the cottage, there is a coffee table, old but still good in use, on top of it is a cracked blue vase coated with layers of thin spider’s strings, and a rocking chair solely sitting beside it.

And it’s the indistinct sobbing that catches your vigilant gaze – one that you assume belongs to a young boy – coming from the inner house of the cottage, you stare at the hollow corridor ahead and notice there is a flickering glimpse, the colour of a burning flame is reflecting on the wall at the end of the aisle, that fire must be there on the right turn of it. Then, something moves in the corner of your eye, immediately drawing your attention back to where you stand, the rocking chair you observed earlier, and it’s rocking, no one is sitting on it.

“Who’s there? show yourself,” you speak, letting out a shaky breath and summoning your weapon. With a defence position, you step back and start entering the corridor slow and cautious, your eyes darting back and forth to the source of light and that creepy chair, everything falls deaf, your heartbeat thumping so loud in your chest that you can feel the pulses popping in your ear, the constant continuance of echoed whimpers and whispers from nowhere coming at you and they have successfully freaked you out.

Almost reaching the turn of that corridor where you find the flickering light, you press your back against the wall, inhaling deeply with anticipation, and when you lean over to discreetly take a peak… your breath hitches, and you freeze. What…? Alhaitham? your acquaintance, no, rival – or that’s what you assume it is – his back is facing you, standing there pensively. What is he doing here? And why does he feel odd and… blurring? No. That's not him. That’s…

As if sensing something, ‘Alhaitham’ flicks his eyes towards your direction, and you flinch, withdrawing yourself back to the wall, panicking. What the actual fuck? Did he see me? You suffocate, trying to soothe the dose of adrenaline rushing in your veins, breathing heavily. But when you turn back to spare one more glance… he is gone. Oh, fuck this. Once again, you withdraw, your breath unsteady, already regretting the decision even to show up here. But then, you sigh, deciding to take one more final look, frantically anticipating for him not to be there so that you can interpret that your brain was just hallucinating…

…He is standing mere seconds away from you, wide eyes open, staring intensely with an unsettling grin.

Your face drops, blood drains, you scream in horror. The next seconds follow rapid footsteps on the oak planks and the sound of things crashing and shattering inside the cottage.

“Take a step forward and your life will end.” You grit your teeth, breathing heavily, you have never been so terrified like this, gripping hard on your weapon, in a position of ready to fight.

Two Alhaitham, simultaneously exist, you must have gone mad... One whereabouts unknown, perhaps burying himself in books somewhere on Teyvat, and the other…

“... why must mortals be so cruel?” Although the way it acts is pale in comparison with the real version of himself, you have to praise it for at least mimicking correctly your achingly hot rival’s nerve-wracking voice.

“What the hell are you…? I know you’re not him, but you are him? Please don’t step forward or I will have to wield my sword.”

“I am… Alhaitham…” You can feel it in his indecisive gaze, his eyes are like the main elements to form a void of oblivion. His steps are heavy, when he approaches you; and despite your warning, he steps forward and passes through your body effortlessly like how an actual ghost would behave, his mind paying elsewhere but the real person he leaves suffering and scared, fighting for their shuddering knees that can collapse in any breathing minute. You shiver, the icy chills bite down on you. Oh, my archons above… aren’t doppelgängers almost physical like ordinary people?

You let out a shaky breath, analysing the unknown entity idly moving back and forth in front of your eyes. A spirit, a doppelgänger that has a mimic ability, displaying your worst rival appearance and performing a voice exactly like his.

“I just… want to… make… friends…” the ghost reveals its own, creepy voice that rumbles from every direction of the small cottage, and at an echoing low pitch, you are certain that it does belong to a depressed man who should have transcendent already, but the smell of overwhelming regrets and hatred radiating from him fill up your lungs, making it hard to breathe.

“So something like you does exist… for how long…?”

The ghost howls quietly at the slightly frantic and confused state you are in, and in alhaitham’s body still, it responds to your question with its voice.

“Exiled and killed… by the traitors who claimed to be ‘companions’... I shall return the sin that they deserve… and for how long? A hundred, two hundred, a million years passed…”

Upon seeing your unchanged guarded and cynical motions as you are trying to distinguish between detriment or harmless, the translucent creature exclaims once more. “Please. Speak!”

And it cries. The echoing muffled cries of a person drowned in despair without their saviour blending in with the sound of rustling wind. A deadly horrifying scene.

However… it doesn’t sound scary anymore when you start taking pity on the poor abandoned spirit. It is actually, to some extent… quite comical and confusing: a spirit pleads to befriend someone as the instinct created by the ‘legacy’ left off from its traumatic past life – which you assume is a young boy who was tricked into death by his so-called friends.

“Fine… I’ll stay. But please at least explain why you ‘coincidentally’ chose an acquaintance of mine to trouble?”

Now that you notice it, to some extent, the fake alhaitham in front of your eyes is somewhat… mesmerising, faintly translucent but vivid, eerie but so magical at the same time; icy chills touching your spine by the aura it radiates. such a supernatural being… your eyes aren't deceiving you. Scared? Yes, but by assuming that the horror phenomenon is actually harmless, disbelief and curiosity dominate all of you.

“The real question is, why is it you?” its statement between sniffles piques the slight quirk of your eyebrow.

“What do you mean…? How am I the source of all this trouble?”

The creature cringes. It shakes the sage’s head violently when it recalls.

“Wandering around alone and wounded for years and years, this sage of the latter city caught my eye… and then… while he was alone in that garden reading a book, I took this opportunity to haunt him…”

You blink, sweat drops. Wow… okay. And to break the silence you drop, it continues.

“This sage… he has a very, very complicated and conflicted mind, his memories pieces, the amount of knowledge and information he possess is… overwhelming. And… in his latest memories, I encountered you…” it halts, the siren voice echoing slowly and kicking in every nerve of your mind.

Alhaitham thinks of you. And if you recall correctly what Cyno said to you about a characteristic of doppelgangers – they survive by entering and absorbing their host’s memories to morph into the evil twin of a living person, suddenly, your cheeks heat up. You are indirectly intruding the boundaries of the basic privacy rights, and it is extremely embarrassing to let him know that you are inquisitive and curious and is wrong to ask further about the appealing information regarding what his life is inside his head, but it is him who thinks of you first! Right?

“What is it…?” then, you ask anyway.

“... he thinks that you are stupidly pretty, it kills.”

"..."

“H-he… wish to crush you down with his knowledge and left you suffer??” ‘Alhaitham’ hold ‘his’ face in horror. “How… violent. And there’s a scene… where he squishes your cheek with one hand, the natural reaction of his body when he thought of it… I also can feel it.”

Good thing, spirits do not understand the complexity of human’s emotions, otherwise, it would have said something about the harsh burning sensation that gradually building up to your face and how you swallow a thick lump stuck in your throat.

Just then, the door slams open, leaving you jolting by instinct as if you are being caught of knowing something you shouldn’t. you drink in the odd sight of two Alhaithams appearing simultaneously in the vicinity, but the real one is standing at the doorway, chest heaving up and down in rhythm, highly alert.

“[Name].” He speaks, voice stern. “Do you have any idea of what that creature is sitting beside you?”

You stutter his name, but Alhaitham just ignores it. He is here, on time, after he came up to the mahamatra and informed him about his plan of tracking down this lurking shadow and prevent it from spilling personal information. Coincidentally, he heard about you, also looking for the same target out of curiosity and then he just as quick got the mahamatra’s testimony of your whereabouts and intentions; Alhaitham immediately set off, thinking that you have known it all by now (yeah…). And now he is standing there, a small enchanted squared-box in his hand, ready to capture the ghost and its conspiracy of completely morphing into a living entity that can take over a real person’s life–which the one that sits with you right here is already at its final stage.

“I- I never thought-”

“Of course you don’t. It’s the lack of attention that will flaw your flexibility.”

And there you both are… as much as you hate to say it, you have to depend on Alhaitham to guide you out of the forest and back to the Akademiya after he has captured the morally questionable spirit then contained it in that vessel he brought along.

And then it flooded back in your mind rendering you uncomfortable, what are you going to say to him now that you have known what you should have not? The unconcious soft tongue click you let out is a replacement for the questions that you let die on the tip of your tongue.

“Did the spirit tell you something about me?”

You yelp. And unfortunately for you, he is far too intelligent to not recognise the strange attitude you have, and with the basic knowledge he perceived regarding supernatural studies, he understands almost immediately what was going on in your head.

“A-apparently, yes…?” and there is a small gap of silence after that before you hear him sigh.

Information is lacking, but the both of you are acknowledging it all too well and sensing vividly the problematic tension it brings afterwards without sparing a single word. Usually, if face a situation like such, Alhaitham will just shrug it off and tell them to do as they please because he pay no mind whether they believe those rumours about him or not, only him knows the better of himself and he is completely fine with false rumours; however, out of nowhere comes the second person getting inside his mind indirectly and… dear archons… did you know about the wretched side that he has always hide from you?

The silence followed after your stuttering response completely eradicates your final confidence, so as it does to Alhaitham where his pride is.

“Old sayings, again.” he starts. “If you’re concerned about what it has said regarding me, don’t bother asking. I don’t care whether you believe them or not, just don’t throw extra trouble my way.” his last words come out whispering have gone unnoticed by you on his purpose.

Lies, such audacity to even give out a deceiving false speech of mind after all that you have heard about in his head; but then you are too confused with his excellent unbothered act and again end up believing him once more. And Alhaitham sighs discreetly in relief. Not now… The time doesn’t feel right enough.

The grand sage’s acting skills is beknowned outstanding, but how about he practise accepting emotions and confess with his sincerest self?

© 2024 https-sourlimes. All rights reserved.

[aimasup]

EPISODE 3 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

aka my live notes on the episode as I watch again

The second ep I couldn't do because it came out when I was still working, so no energy or time :(

Here we go, long post warning:

The cartoon biology is amazing, it would make sense they'd explore that with all the time on their hands, it's so damn creative

In an alternate universe they would make for fantastic circus tricks

Gangle is DRAWING

Jax obviously would want to know how the newest plaything ticks. jerk

Zooble's. New. Look. 10/10 I'm sorry Zooble I know you hate your body but you are a cartoon character with a cool design

The reason I don't redraw enough screenshots even though I badly want to is because if we sat here and picked out every pose, expression, shot, joke, and meaningful momeny that i especially loved, we'd be here all day

It's nice that Pomni is still inquisitive and here it's mixed with fear of the Gummigoo incident repeating, continuity! ( °▽° )

Caine probably does take plenty of user feedback: When Zooble never showed up, he probably took into account what they might like in an adventure and tailor it to include them!! Even comments like 'immature'. Headcanon territory again whoops

Ragatha's little hand shimmies at when saying the house is scary she's so adorable you guys

She always wants to make things fun or at least enjoyable for others, but she isn't super stable herself, nooooo

The cartoon gags being like, physically real is the right kind of wacky and horrifying, of course these humans would lose it after a while!! Fits the tone of the series well

"I remember my first wild take!" "Gangle I'll get it for you!"

Kinger is so helpful he always wants to help and he talks exactly like a nurturing figure ಥ⌣ಥ even if his mind is. Not all there

Jax would be the worstttt to be in a haunted house with. Or even just play a horror game with. He'd skip all the dialogue and take the cutscenes at face value bc he just wants directions to do things

Caine hunting Zooble down good lord

CAINE THAT IS NOT HOW YOU PLAY HIDE AND SEEK

Zooble is being held hostage by someone with worse memory issues than Kinger trying to give them therapy that they KNOW is pointless. Yikes

The 'specially for Zooble' horror is SUPERB!! Gooseworx your roots are showing

This has escape room vibes. A controlled environment designed for mystery and entertainment except this time the players were actually kidnapped

Kinger and Pomni duo is. So good

The gags are great. The 2d bit was a surprise and welcomed! Made the monster unveiling itself to be more haunting

Kinger slowly becomes lucid while Pomni loses it

Also all the voice actors are so good all the characters' squeaks and stammers and yells are full of such emotion

I'm not a huge fan personally of the 'scary moment followed by funny quip' because it can repetitive after a while, so I appreciate that it wasn't too much of the case here

It's always the non-horror shows that have at least one downright terrifying episode huh

Zooble being open with their feelings because they know it doesn't matter nooooo

Caine is squishy. I'm now realising this, he is very squishy, eyeballs and all, even though he's the most robotic of the sentient cast

Caine doesn't even apologise for his actions, which makes sense sadly

They are nailing his programmed helper nature of not understanding deeper issues out of his comprehension, including his own!! But he still holds immense power and needs to slow tf down asap!! The adventures are for Caine as much as they are for the humans, in this essay I will

And Zooble. Zooble doesn't totally isolate themself, they hang out with the others! It's just that their body is already so foreign and uncomfortable for them, why on earth would they want to bring it out for even more foreign and uncomfortable experiences? The tent isn't so bad, it's massive and there's enough annoying bullshit behind each curtain to keep things less monotonous. They want as much peace and quiet as they can get in this disquieting form in this world. Everyone is trying to get control of their own situations in some way. And it's canon that they were newest before Pomni, keep that in mind-- in THIS essay I will

Zooble has many choice words that come to mind when they see you, Caine

Also Caine's expressions will always be peak. Love how he doesn't show certain more intense (vulnerable) emotions the same way humans do, he flusters, freezes up or glitches out instead

RAGATHA AND GANGLE DESERVE A GIRLS NIGHT. GOOD. TIE UP THAT MEDDLING RABBIT

Kinger I am twirling my hair as we speak

He's being very calm! Still scared ofc but he's so used to the madness of the circus, and for the first time we're actually seeing that in a way that isn't him being PART of the madness

The possession was horrifying loveeee (shhh don't think about the content farms with possessed Pomni that may follow it's ok)

"How's your wife, Kinger?" uncalled for. (cocks shotgun) game's haunted

Seriously I very much doubt that Caine put that in on purpose. But it's not out of the question that the magic hell circus game that sucks your mind in forever would mix code and consciousness for some fucked up results. I believe it's called uhh divine machinery? Idk

Pomni, let it out girl

These adventures have not, in fact, gotten easier for her to adapt. Really shows that compassion matters huh

(or does it? Jax may have something to say about that)

It's canon! Queenie is canon! And the truth behind Kinger's pillow fort is even sadder than we imagined!

And what's also canon is that Zooble is a great listener!! They take note of everyone's behaviour even though they don't go on the adventures!! They distracted Caine from his crisis!! They ended up being the therapist!! And it's not even on purpose ajkshdksksjskslslsksl they have no idea how they ended up in either chair

Will Pomni have to go through each adventure and come out of them the only one carrying the experience. I hope not. That would hurt. But I hope so 👀

Ragatha! Getting appreciation! Pomni's hair tuck! How often does Ragatha hear that even? Also Pomni is getting closer with the others, already hanging out and stuff, good for her!! Our cantakerous jester is finding friendship!!

Please make it so that Caine's alliterative terms of endearment get worse every time. Please it's so funny

TADC IS ABOUT HUMAN CONNECTION AND ALSO VIDEO GAME/CARTOON PHYSICS RGHRGJEHHHSHH

[piinksdoll]

→ [The Language of Flowers | Spencer Reid]

Pairing~ Spencer Reid x Fem!Bau!Reader

Genre~ fluffy

Word Count~ 1.5k

Warnings~ typical criminal minds violence, mentions of alcohol (wine)

a/n~ k this is very fluffy and cute, so yeah! have fun lmk what yall think! also NOT PROOFREAD!!!!

Week 1

It's the one month anniversary of me joining the BAU, and ever since I've had the biggest crush on a certain genius doctor. I've tried to ask him out but he never gets the hint and always ends up bringing the others to any “date” I plan. So now I've decided to speak to him in a language that, hopefully, he'll understand.Code, but in a cute way. I'm going to bring in an arrangement of flowers to put in the conference room every week. Each one with flowers representing my feelings towards him. So, to celebrate my 1 month-iversary im bringing a collection of forget-me-nots, lavender, and daisies, hoping mr.genius will finally get it. 

The sound of Derek’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts “Hey mama, one month with us how you feelin’? Wanna run away yet?” I rolled my eyes at his playfulness. “Not yet but you’re makin me want to. No but seriously I've loved it here more than anywhere else and although it gets crazy sometimes I wouldn't trade it for the world.” Derek laughed while pulling me into a big hug which I returned gladly. “Ooh hugs! I want in!” I let go of Derek and before I got a chance to react, I felt Penelope engulf me in her arms. “Oh congrats on one month, love! Never leave us!” I smiled against her. “Flowers? For me? You shouldn't have” I hear Emily’s voice accompanied by JJ followed by the click of their heels. “Ha ha very funny. No, they're for the conference room, I felt we needed some brightening.” I explained as we made your way to the conference room. “There, they look beautiful.” I set the vase of flowers in the middle of the table admiring my work. They're in the middle, he cannot miss them. 

Spencer walked into the conference room and couldn't help but notice the arrangement of flowers you had brought in and wonder if there's a deeper meaning to it all. He remembers your earlier words about the craziness of the office and the pattern of florals seemed to suggest bringing peace and calmness to the office, along with a hint to the deeper feelings of admiration and loyalty. He wondered who do you admire?

Week 2

While trying to find an unsub, I got thrown onto the floor and kicked in my ribs. My wrist and ribs were broken. I got away when Morgan tackled him but I was still not able to stand up, or move. I felt a pair of hands hold me. “Are you okay? Oh God, you’re hurt,” Spencer muttered, I tried to sit up, wincing as pain shot up my side. “I’m fine,” I lie, though the sharp ache in my wrist and ribs says otherwise. “Just… a little roughed up.” “Fine?” Spencer repeats, his voice rising in disbelief. “You’re bleeding, your wrist looks broken, and you just took on a guy twice your size.” His hands gently press against your ribs, and you can’t help but hiss in pain. “That’s not fine.” 

We make it out to the medics and they take me to the hospital. After waking up in a hospital room I see Spencer standing over me. “You scared me,” Spencer says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “When I heard you scream, I- I thought…” He cuts himself off, his jaw clenching as he fights to keep control of his emotions. I reached out with my good hand, gently touching his arm. “I’m still here, Spencer. I’m okay.” I looked into his eyes, the soft brown making me melt. I feel him squeeze my hand gently, there's no one else I'd rather be with at this moment. 

I came back to work after a week off, demanded by Hotch of course. This week I chose an arrangement of peonies, baby’s breath, and sweet peas. “How are you feeling?” I see Hotch, his face sporting his signature frown with his eyes laced with concern. “I'm feeling good. I think writing might still be a problem but pretty good for the most part.” I nod assuring him. “Ooh yay! More flowers! I've missed these.” I laugh at Penelope’s words. I walk into the conference room to find Spencer already in there. After setting the vase down, I make my way over to where Spencer is and before he can react I engulf him in a hug. I feel his hesitancy, the way his body stiffens at my touch but I don't let go. I slowly feel him relax and wrap his arms around my waist. “I- uh-” he stammers, his voice soft and uncertain. “Are you okay?” I nod against his chest, unable to find the words at first. “I just…” My voice wavers, “I needed to thank you. For everything. For saving me.” His brow furrows in concern, “You don't need to thank me. I would do it again in a heartbeat.” His voice is soft, I can feel his breath against my forehead. I look up at him “Spencer,” I whisper, my voice quiet. “You don’t have to be scared.” He smiles at me in assurance. 

While the briefing is going on, Spencer once again studies the flowers. He sees you’re grateful for the kindness and support shown by the team. The sweet peas show gratitude, peonies represent compassion and the babys breath represents love. He smiles to himself thinking about the message you're sending. 

Week 3

Last night we went to Rossi’s for a wine and pasta night. It was the first one since I had joined the team and it was amazing. The laughter, easy conversations, the smell of wine and garlic in the air. It was the first time I had seen everyone on the team so relaxed, even Hotch was smiling. During the night I had seen Spencer so happy and smiley. I caught him a few times staring at me, it made me so shy and it wasn't just the wine. That night wasn't just amazing because of Rossi’s expensive wine and amazing pasta, it was finally feeling a part of the team, and seeing everyone so happy. So this following monday I decided to bring in a warm and bright arrangement of sunflowers, chrysanthemums, and snapdragons. I smiled seeing it in the centre of the table.

Spencer walked into the conference room excited to see the new arrangement you had brought in for the week. He takes in the pattern of warm colours, the sunflowers standing out the most. He studies the message you're sending, the sunflowers representing loyalty and adoration perhaps towards the team, and chrysanthemums representing friendship. You caught him staring at the flowers, it made you smile knowing he understands what you mean. 

Friday of Week 3

I walked into the office today, it is a paperwork day so it's going to be slow. I always get to the office a little early, not earlier than Hotch or Spencer but I'm always the 3rd one there. As I walked up to my desk, I noticed a bouquet of flowers, red roses, white lilies, pink tulips, and baby's breath all wrapped in baby pink and white tissue paper. I smiled at the beautiful arrangement, my heart skipped a beat at the sight. “Y/n..” Spencer’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. I turned to see him standing a few feet from me, his hands fidgeting nervously with a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation on his face. “Spencer,” I whispered, smiling as I looked at the bouquet in my hands. “Did you- are these from you?” He smiled softly “I—uh, yeah,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t sure if it was too much. You always bring us flowers, with secret messages, so I thought I'd return the favour…” Warmth filled my chest, the thoughtfulness, the way he had chosen each flower with care-it was perfect. So Spencer.

“You noticed…” He nodded at my words “Ofcourse, I figured it out the first time you brought them in, and I've been trying to tell you somehow…” I looked at him shocked. “You didn't have to say it with flowers, but I'm glad you did.” I teased gently. He stepped closer to me, taking my hands in his. “Maybe next time I’ll say it with words…” His voice soft but steady, I smiled, my heart racing just a little faster. “I think I’d like that.” I felt his lips on mine, he kissed me gently. I smiled into his lips, 

“Woo hoo finally, pretty boy and pretty girl,” Morgan’s voice rang through the office, we broke apart at his words. “Dammit I had 2 more weeks, you guys couldn't wait?!” Emily whined, throwing her hands up dramatically, “What you guys had a bet on us??” I exclaimed watching her, Penelope and Morgan handing 20’s to JJ.

“Of course we did,” Emily said, shrugging with zero remorse. “It was inevitable. We just didn’t know when.” JJ smirked, folding the bills into her jacket pocket. “I had faith in you two. I knew it would happen sooner than later.”

 “We’ve all been waiting for this to happen. Took you two long enough.” Rossi teased. “Congratulations to you both” Hotch added, giving us a rare smile. Spencer looked at me, and I could see the same joy in his eyes. “Thanks, Hotch,” he replied, his voice soft but steady. I looked at Spencer, and with each passing moment, I felt more and more grateful for this chance at love, and all it took were flowers.

tag list~ @yourfavoritefangirl

[in1-nutshell]

Can we have more of idw Ophelia? Like Megatron catching on or finding out that Ophelia is his sparkling? The angst and fluff that could happen

ANGST!!!!!

That's all the clues.

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron finds out about Ophelia's identity

SFW, Platonic, ANGST, Familial, Hinted Romance, Mention of injury, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

There were good days and bad days on the Lost Light.

On a good day, you’d find some sort of clue about the Knights of Cybertron or a team building day.

On a bad day, you’d end up fighting something that wanted you gone.

Today was a bad day.

Some of the members of the DJD had found the ship and decided to mess with the crew a bit.

It was more for fun than getting actual work done.

What made matters worse, Overlord had decided to join in to ‘stretch his pedes’.

Everyone was armed and prepared to defend their home.

Megatron was leading a group of bots consisting of Ophelia, some new bot named Steve, Rewind, and Chromedome.

Sadly, the group would encounter a familiar Decepticon in the halls.

Overlord turns the corner and sees the group of bots. Most of the ‘senior’ bots immediately stand in front of Rewind with their arms ready. Chromedome just holds his Conjunx to his chassis glaring into the six-phaser optics. Overlord seemed to have his optics trained on Megatron. Overlord: “Megatron, it has been so long.” Megatron: “Overlord.” The taller bot smiles sadistically. Overlord: “I have been waiting for this moment.” Ophelia steps slightly in front of Megatron with her blaster ready. Overlord: “Oh? You have more bots fighting your battle Megatron? Typical.” Ophelia: “Surrender or risk getting terminated Overlord. You are not touching any bot here as long as I function.” Overlord laughs. Overlord: “Oh that’s cute. Now tell me Autobot have I fought you before?” Ophelia stays silent glaring at the Decepticon. Overlord: “Maybe I fought someone you knew. Either way, you stay out of my way, and I might make Megatron’s death quick.” SLAM! Ophelia had punched the Decepticon across the face surprising everyone. Ophelia looks at Megatron panicky. Ophelia: “Run! I’ll buy you some time!” Megatron: “Ophelia—” Ophelia doesn’t listen and tackles Overlord onto the ground. Steve tries to follow her, but Megatron grabs him and pushes everyone to the opposite direction. Steve: “No! Megatron, she needs—” Megatron: “We have to go now!”

Megatron did not want to leave Ophelia behind, but considering how fast Overlord fought and most of the bots with him never having any fighting experience close to his, he ran.

There was a lot of resistance from Steve but had to stop when more cons started showing up.

Thankfully the battle did not last long.

The DJD had found something more important and had retreated to their ship and flew away.

Now it was time get the injured or those who had gotten terminated.

Their little group immediately tried to go back to the hall where Ophelia had told them to run.

They were met with Ratchet kneeling over a large grey frame.

There was a missing pede, mangled servos, so many dents littered all over the chassis and dented helm with offlined optics.

No…

Steve: “OPHELIA!” Steve ran past Megatron and kneeled next to Ratchet, his servos hovering and shaking unsure of what to do. Megatron, Chromedome and Rewind walked over. Chromedome: “Is she—” Ratchet: “Shush! I’m trying to listen.” Everyone went quiet. TAP! TAP! TAP! Ratchet broke into a humorless laugh. Ratchet: “She’s still there.” Ratchet looks at Megatron, a flash of guilt flashes but covers it up. Ratchet: “Chromedome, Megatron I need you to pull open the chassis—” Megatron: “What?!” Ratchet: “I will not repeat myself Megatron! Now listen! Chromedome grab on my side and Megatron grabs the other side. If we work fast enough it should open fast. Steve, Rewind Stand a bit farther over there. There’s no telling where she’s going to land.” Megatron, filled with questions does as he is told. The chassis groans and creaks. Ratchet: “One more time! 3… 2… 1! NOW!”

The bots pull at the chassis hearing it groaning and creaking.

Suddenly the chassis opens up and something goes flying out.

Steve was fast enough to grab the flying object, knocking him on his back.

Megatron stood up to see what he had grabbed.

The ex-warlord never quite understood the human term ‘having the wind knocked out of you’, but he was sure he was experiencing something similar.

Cradled in Steve’s arms was an injured minibot.

A minibot who looked extremely similar to…

But that would be impossible…

She was killed before the war even started…

He doesn’t register Ratchet and Chromedome making their way to the minibot in Steve’s arms.

He doesn’t register them calling his name.

But he does recognize that lost look on her faceplate.

His Little One.

Ratchet notices Megatron’s face of realization. He is grateful that Ophelia isn’t completely conscious to realize the one mech who wasn’t supposed to find out about her identity… well, finding out like this. Ratchet turns to Megatron. Ratchet: “We need to get her to the medbay now. We don’t know what else Overlord did to her internally and by the looks of it, it isn’t good. We need you to get us a clear path to the medbay.” Megatron snaps out of his trance and looks at the doctor. Megatron: “H-how long—” Ratchet: “Megatron now is not the time!” Steve: “HEY!” Both mech’s look at Steve. He looks like he on the verge of a nervous breakdown, shaking with Ophelia still in his arms. Steve: “I don’t know what is happening between you two but ‘Lia needs the medbay now! Megatron, are you going to help or not!?” Megatron is a bit stunned but stands up. Megatron: “Follow me.”

It is a silent trip to the med bay.

Ratchet ends up kicking everyone who isn’t a medic out.

Most injuries the crew had received were dents and scratches.

The only one to have serious damage had been Ophelia.

It wasn’t like many bots willingly threw themselves onto the sadistic mechs either.

Megatron truly didn’t care for the others right now.

His entire world had just been flipped upside down.

His sparkling, his daughter was alive.

He doesn’t know if this was a blessing, or some cruel joke Primus was playing on him.

It became painfully aware that he could have directly or indirectly have been responsible for her termination and would have never known.

There is no news about Ophelia’s status, and it was eating Megatron from the inside.

Megatron had requested Magnus, Ratchet (when he had a break) and Rodimus to come to a private meeting.

He asked them how long they knew about Ophelia being his daughter.

Ratchet gave them the clear to talk.

Megatron could not believe everything he heard in that meeting.

He stayed silent the entire time, wanting to absorb all the information as he could.

It was in the middle of the meeting when Ratchet had received a message from First Aid.

Ophelia was awake.

Ophelia groaned as she looked around. Ophelia: “Urgh, my aching helm…” Ravage: “I’m surprised that is the only thing that hurts.” Ophelia: “Hey Ravage… wait… Ravage?!” Ophelia was now painfully aware of her lack of suit. Ravage looked tired and relief. Ravage: “First Aid just messaged Ratchet you’re awake. He should be coming soon.” Ophelia nods slowly, wincing a bit at the dull pain in her helm. Ravage jumps to the vents but pauses. Ravage: “Talk to you later kid.” The felicon disappeared. She looks at the door as the sounds of multiple pede sound. Ratchet: “Megatron I’m not sure if she—Argh!” Megatron had pushed Ratchet out of the way. He looked desperate and scared. His optics land on her. He slowly walks over to Ophelia who could only sit and watch him come over. Megatron stops right by the berth side. Ophelia: “…Hello Megatron… It’s been a while, huh?” THUD! Ophelia jumps a bit as the ex-warlord falls to his knees. He takes a shaky intake. Megatron: “Little one?” Ophelia couldn’t stop the tears from spilling from the old nickname. Megatron hesitantly wipes her tears and slowly places his larger servo on her backstruts. They both stay like that for a while. No words exchanged. Words would come later. Now they just drank up each other’s touch they had not felt in years.

[dukealicious]

Lyrics for people you think about a lot- GO

Holy fuck, that's a lot. Okay..

Zტ: Tom's Diner (7" A)- "To the bells of the Cathedral. I am thinking of your voice." -> Amour Plastique- "Dans mon esprit tout divague, je me perds dans tes yeux. Je me noie dans la vague de ton regard amoureux. Je ne veux que ton âme divaguant sur ma peau. Une fleur, une femme dans ton cœur Roméo. Je ne suis que ton nom, le souffle lancinant. De nos corps dans le sombre animés lentement."

X₦oʌʎ: Die in a fire- "I really hate you, stop getting in my way. I've lost my patience, when are you gonna decay? I want to throw you out just like my broken TV. If you come back once more, it shall be painful, you'll see."

♩₦d: Haunted- "Yeah, do you think it's cute that I'm so fucking stupid? Tell me that it is, 'cause I'm tired of being useless (yeah). I've been up for three days, everything is haunted. Everybody's evil and there's bugs inside the carpet."

ʎ₦ェa: YKWIM?- "Sometimes it seems like I'm in your way. Well, that's how it seems. Hey. You know what I mean? It seems like I care too much. When I'm all alone, oh no. I feel like I care too much. When no one's at home for me. Feel like I'm fallin' out. Well, that's how it seems. I think that I'm fallin' out. You know what I mean?"

ტ₦ɿzʌ: Brain Stew- "I'm having trouble trying to sleep. I'm counting sheep but running out. As time ticks by, still I try. No rest for crosstops in my mind. On my own, here we go. My eyes feel like they're gonna bleed. Dried up and bulging out my skull. My mouth is dry, my face is numb. Fucked up and spun out in my room. On my own, here we go."

Ьlw: I know- "i feel its gross hot breath breathing in my face. after all this time.. no fuck that... i wanna go to disneyland. i dont wanna do more any shit that i hate. i wanna have some real fun. i wanna see the fireworks. i wanna prove what a stupid bitch i am. i wanna get way too drunk in the california sun like i always dreamed of. i wanna see thru to my true self. i wanna play puzzle games on a iphone on a air plane."

m₦zɿ₦w: Gravity Falls- "There's something more To This That we have missed Things around here, Are Suspicious. Who can we put our trust in? What have they all been hiding? Secrets that lie in shadow... How much do they all know? A place so full of Mystery. It's just a puzzle waiting to be solved!" -> Brutus- "The oracle told him to beware the Ides. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't wishing. For untimely death or demise. Or am I just wishing I could be like you? That the people would see me too as a poet. And not just the muse Oh, it's not true, I don't wish harm upon you. From birth we've been like brothers of different mothers. Within the spirit of the same womb. May the gods strike me down if I forsake you. Frater meus, you're beautifully made. And to you I'm forever grateful -- I don't want what you have, I want to be you"

ェ₦∅ʌw: Never Be Alone- "Your heart is pounding and it can't be stopped. You tell yourself you're okay. It's too bad your doors can't be locked. To keep the monsters away. You check behind the door. There's nothing there no more. You should've stayed in bed. You've heard this noise before. You dart across the floor. Try not to lose your head. Prepare for the horrors. This night will keep repeating over and over. And over, until you make it to the end. They hide 'round the corners. You better peel your eyes and keep looking over. Your shoulder 'cause you'll never be alone again."

X₦hhɿʌ: Beautiful Friendship- "so once again here we go again it's all we have ok, beautiful friendship. burning up in this. tiny little moment of time. we will always try our best to shine bright!!"

oɈbʌ: No Normal- "This creepy kid, this part of me. Wants to make the friends that I couldn't. Fuck it up like other me wouldn't. So clueless and so annoying. I try to know what I'm saying. I'm sorry, please just don't hate me."

xlェɈh: Hole Dwelling- "We cannot survive, we cannot survive. We cannot survive, so we will not even try. We cannot survive so we’re closing our eyes, counting 2, 1, 0… Fall with me, come on and fall with me, into the dark and scary hole inside the bottom of the sea. Fall with me, come on and fall with me, into the place that it’s taking us, wherever that may be. Hole-dwelling, hole-dwelling, hole-dwelling, you’re just like me. Because together we will always be alone."

ტტ: Put On your Sunday Clothes- "Put on your Sunday clothes. There's lots of world out there. Get out the brillantine and dime cigars. We're gonna find adventure in the evening air. Girls in white, in a perfumed night. Where the lights are bright as the stars. Put on your Sunday clothes. We're gonna ride through town. In one of those new horse drawn open cars."

xdʎlェʇ: F Song- "And I know that you won't speak. So I spoke up and then you talked to me. Just move on, you don't need him. So shut your eyes and count to ten. Don't waste time. You'll never look back. Don't go there alone. Just don't waste time. You'll never look back. Don't go there alone."

♩lw: Pop Muzik- "Singing in the subway. Shuffle with a shoe shine. Mix me a Molotov. I'm on the headline. Want to be a gunslinger? Don't be a rock singer. Eeny, meey, miney, moe. Whicha way you want to go? Talk about... pop muzik."

Zlhh: Dumb- "Gonna make you feel famous. (Really, really famous, really, really famous). Even the basic bitches. (Really, really basic, really, really basic). Everybody get. Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb."

Ʇ₦ェnɿʌom: Cats- "Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow meow meow meow meow, meow meow. Meow, meow, meow"

ʎɿood: Devil Town- "Life's alright in Devil Town. Yeah, right, no one's gonna catch us now. Dad has bought a new car now. We're fine, no one's gonna catch us now (okay). You said something dumb again. She's mad, at least that's what they say. Mum and daddy aren't in love. That's fine, I'll settle for two birthdays."

zlェʇ₦w: Haunt me x3- "You know, often times we don't sit down to think about. The grudges, resentment, and anger that we hold onto. Every day, in our bodies, in our hearts, and in our minds. Whether you're aware of it or not. I am willing to bet you that there is a way that you are disappointed in yourself. That there is a way that--"

aɿz: Pure Imagination- "If you want to view paradise. Simply look at them and view it. Somebody to hold on to, it's. All we really need. Nothing else to it. Come with me and you'll be. In a world of pure imagination. Take a look and you'll see. Into your imagination."

[gothamite-rambler]

Excerpt from my upcoming batman fanfic :) where Jason and his brother discuss the slow build up of them becoming a family again

Batman: Who’s that over there? Nightwing turns around to see Red Hood standing a few feet away from him. Jason: Hiiiii! Nightwing: That’s Jason… We’re cool now. Jason: Heeey! Nightwing: He’s neat for a brother. Batman: He’s… You’re on good terms? Nightwing: Well… Jason are we on good terms? Jason: …Eh, 50/50. Nightwing: 50/50 there you go. Took sometime, but we’ve been hanging out and he’s a good kid so far. He’s neat. Jason I said you’re neat. Jason: …Aww thanks man! Batman: The man who killed and tried to kill Joker and attacked you… Is neat?!

Nightwing: Yup, you adopted an 8 year old who watched his parents die in the circus. My brother is a mercenary who likes reading classic literature and was brought back from the dead by the Ghul’s tossing him in the Lazarus pit. Jason: Did you tell him about the pit?! Nightwing: Yes! Jason: Nice. Nightwing: He wanted to come with me for the mission. He promised he won’t kill anyone. Right Jason, you won’t kill anyone? Jason: Just a pew pew to the non-kill body parts. Yeah. Nightwing: Non-lethal shots. Jason is busy spinning his gun around like a child and dancing ready for the mission. Batman: He’s not coming with us. Nightwing: He said you can’t come! Jason: But it’s been years, we can laugh at the time he threw a batarang at my neck. I’m cool with it! I got a cool scar! Nightwing: See he’s cool with it, he has a cool scar. Batman: Stop repeating what he says! Jason: I’m going to come over now! Batman: Don’t walk over here. Don’t walk over here. Jason walks over and stands next to Nightwing. Jason: All right, let’s go. Batman: Nope. I’m taking Robin and were doing this alone. Jason: Oh is it still Tim, please be Tim. Nightwing: You do not like that kid. It’s like a hateship with you too. Jason: Yeah I like messing with him. Jason follows Batman to the batmobile and looks through the front passenger window then opens the door and yanks Tim (as Red Robin out of the car). Jason: Your mom says hi. Tim growls and attempts to swipe at Jason, but Batman holds him back. Tim: Let me at him! You and me! I will wreck your shit! Batman: Let it go! Tim: Come on! I will beat your ass! Jason: Hey man you ain’t got to make empty promises I know you’re lying! Nightwing: Jason. Jason: I’m done. I’ll be waiting in the car. This was fun. Jason laughs walking back to the car. Nightwing walks over to Batman and Tim and pats Tim on the head. Nightwing: He’s easy going and nicer. Tim glares at Nightwing then crosses his arms angry. Nightwing: I’m not doing this with you two he is trying to go on the sort of straight and narrow and he offered to drive so that helps because my car is in the shop. This was the only way that I could bring him since you’re being a stubborn mule. How’s that broken nose healing by the way? Batman: How’s yours? Nightwing: Didn’t break it you can’t break perfection. Sorry. Tim chuckles as Batman holds him. Batman groaned dropping the teen. Nightwing: After he helped get you to the hospital you promised you’d hear him out… And then never showed up to the meeting. I know how you are, being Batman is your job. You will talk during this fucking job if I have to tie you both up and trap you in a fucking saw-type warehouse. Okay? I am at my limit! Starfire notices and that has made the bedroom difficult, you two are going to talk and make up! Got it! Batman: I- Nightwing: GOT IT! Batman: Okay, when this plan fails, just get ready to say I’m right. Batman walks off. Tim stands up, wiping dirt off his suit. Tim: I’m not mad at you Nightwing. I hate Jason currently, but I trust your word implicitly. Nightwing: Thanks Tim that’s why I like you. Tim: Awesome. Batman: Robin, bring your ass! Tim: I gotta go, we’ll meet you there. Nightwing: Gotcha. Nightwing heads back to his as Jason is playing Death Metal. Jason: Ready? Nightwing: Yeah he said you can go and that “when the plan fails I better get ready to say he was right”. Jason: Expected. Seat belts on, Dickie. I’m going to be driving fast. Nightwing (clicking on seatbelt): Expected.

[mikailys]

MCL NewGen Ep 8 Commentary

Ik it's late and that several days have passed since the episode's release, but I wanted to wait a bit to let my thoughts simmer and write my review with a cool head. I need to rant about it so sit tight 'cause this one in particular is though lol.

As it was advertised, the whole episode revolves around Roy and a peculiar hobby of his: skinny dipping. Thomas is the one who spills the beans -as always- and everyone is curious about it. Roy explains that he only does it after the swimming pool closing hour and you know what: that is fine by me. Is it weird? Yes, but I'm not supposed to care what my co-workers do in their freetime so I personally don't mind.

And, unfortunately, that's all. To sum up, the plot is "co-workers try to go undercover to spy on their other coworker while he's skinny dipping :|

Since I don't like Roy, the premise of this ep didn't really appeal to me at all. But, weirdly enough, it had the opposite effect 'cause I've spent its whole duration feeling sorry for him. He gets the possibility once a month to train alone in a professional pool, and the six of us -which I recall you are his co-workers and his boss- have nothing better to do than to go spying on him? Just because they thought he subtly implied he wanted them to come see him?!

One. It is false since during the whole workday they kept "catcalling" him and joking about it and he wasn't really pleased to say the least. He put on a brave face, endured the working hours, and then left the office asap.

Two. You're adults, fully grown adults that are acting like literally teens. It's not normal for grown-ups to feel excited, see Elenda and Thomas, to play spies to see your co-worker naked. It is weird and creepy.

I'm glad at least I wasn't the only sane person to comprehend this was wrong and absurd on so many levels. Paradoxically enough, the only one I found myself agreeing with was Amanda, a character I couldn't stand until now, she gained a tons of points in my eyes + she's also a girl's girlie so gg.

Also, special mention to the hint of peer pressure put on Candy and Amanda by the quartet. I didn't like it at all and it shouldn't be even a thing considering the context.

No is no, even if Roy supposedly enjoys voyeurism, I personally do not.

This is really a shame cause they butchered so many characters with this unnecessary sketch, Thomas being the worst of them in my eyes. I'm not sure if my perception of him was wrong from the start, but I don't recognize this character at all. Silly jokes, creepy hobbies, and an immature, teenage-like attitude were never traits I would have attributed to him. I know I keep repeating myself but it's truly a shame that such poor writing has impacted the perception and development of the characters, which now seems clearly different from how they were portrayed in the beginning...

Going forward, I made then the choice to leave with Amanda and warn Roy about their ambush. It was nice to have that option tbh. The whole scene afterwards, sneaking into the public pool and hiding in the lockers, was utterly embarrassing because it’s not the kind of behavior you’d expect from people in their late twenties, but whatever the problem it's the whole context so I can't complain about it too much.

Then Roy catches the sextet and pulls off his counter-prank. After snitching on us, we all decided it was a good time to play with water guns. Again, the idea was fun and silly in a good way, but context-wise mmh...

Now the long-awaited moment I've been patiently waiting for: the encounter with Jason.

Look at him I love him sm nsgsg

I had no idea how they would include him in the episode since he practically had nothing to do with the Devenemential gang. And honestly -unpopular opinion- they probably should have left him out of this messy episode because the reason they gave for his involvement didn’t fully convince me, and the special scene was disappointing.

Apparently, he also has deals with the guards -worst security protocol ever if you ask me- and he goes there once a week to train. And here I was thinking that the CEO of a famous and well-known company would have a private pool or the means to rent one lol. Looks like everyone's feeling the pinch these days. Good job Jason, saving money like the rest of us poor unfortunate souls, such a relatable boss.

Fun fact, it appears one of his dreams is to defeat Roy? In a swimming competition?? Like, okay? I'll gladly be there to root for you the day you actually succeed then dear.

Well maybe not everyone shares the same hobbies as you and Roy, Candy. Besides, why would he know about Roy's interests?? He's not as deranged as Thomas, who keeps tabs on his colleagues' private lives...

ANYWAY. Candy feels cold and needs to get out of the pool if she doesn’t want to catch pneumonia. Jason offers to help her by closing his eyes, but she’s not fully convinced. Again, NOT EVERYONE IS A PERV, CANDY. You're just the unlucky girl who's got to work with them. In fact you should bring him to Devenemential to have him teach your colleagues the art of not being crazy maniacs, I'm sure that could be of help.

I won't spend too many words on the next scene since I've already made a whole ass post ranting about it and sharing my headcanon. However, regarding the mistress scene, I will say that yes, it was poorly executed. But if the entire episode had followed this direction I would have gladly signed off on it because, all things considered, it’s not even remotely comparable to the plot we've endured so far.

Now for the special scene I am conflicted. Ngl I really thought for a split second that we actually managed to kiss him, but I quickly snapped back to reality when I realized it was just Candy being delusional and I am just as much as her. She must have ingested way too much chlorine to be having such a mental trip lol. Anyway, I didn't like it very much because it was clear that BV didn't know what to come up with. The fact that they managed to incorporate Jason into the plot was something, but asking for a well-written special scene was apparently too much.

On a side note, I’m DEAD TIRED of having to endure the worst humiliations in every single episode when we’re on Jason’s route. It's pretty embarrassing, and, at lest for me, it’s not easy to move forward without cringing every few minutes. Moreover, it always seems like he has to have the upper hand in every situation. When is our Candy going to stop acting like a fool and step up her game??

And that's all, the episode ends with Candy leaving the pool, wondering if she and Jason will ever stop meeting in the most weird way spoiler: you won't i assure you.

Now for the next episode I fear we’re in for another ‘fun’ plot since it’s called A Child at Heart, but honestly I have no idea what these interns will actually get up to. Maybe the theme will revolve around generational differences, since they seem to be Gen Z while our colleagues are more on the border of being Millennials? Idk but I do really hope the writing will be better than in this ep.

All things considered, I still have faith in BV. I know they have the ability to write a good story with a solid foundation when they want to—it’s just that I don’t know what’s happening with this series in particular. As other players have pointed out, it feels like this plot was originally conceived when NG was still set in a high school, and now they’re trying to repurpose it in a more 'adult' way. The problem is, it’s just not working.

The Halloween event is approaching, and let’s hope it can alleviate some of the discontent in the community. Hopefully the upcoming episodes will be better since they’ve addressed the topic in the forums but we'll see.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

just think itd be funny if they met irl

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 08 - Fav. (Side) Job

When she's not running around as Ninja or Summoner , Arsay's next choice is the lance. Being bestowed a source of draconic power by Midgardsormr moments before his slumber, and knowing how to channel the powers of Bahamut with dreadwyrm trance, Arsay's power as a Dragoon rivals that of even the former Azure Dragoon. With that said, she'd much rather use her polearm to hunt monsters.

[moonussyy]

OH MY FUCKING GOD I WAS WATCHING THE HOT TO GO MUSIC VIDEO FOR THE FIRST TIME AND IT WAS ALL SHOT AND FILMED IN MY HOMETOWN OH MY GOD I AM SO STARSTRUCK NEXT TIME I GO TO MY LOCAL MINI GOLF (i basically grew up going to the one in the video which OML is insane) IM WORSHIPPING EVERY INCH OF THE PLACE OMGGGGGGGGGG LIKE I KNEW CHAPPELL ROAN WAS FROM WILLARD WHICH ISN’T FAR FROM ME BUT OH MY GOD IM CRYING IM SO HAPPY

[cheekblush]

just woke up from a horrible dream about my chemistry final tomorrow 😭

[polaroidcats]

rules: shuffle your repeat playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people

thank you @iwillbealwaysadreamer for tagging me to do this!!! <3

alright here we go:

Truth Of My Youth by New Found Glory

Proud of Me by Eva Westphal

I Will Steal You Back by Jimmy Eat World

Devotion and Desire by Bayside

Hairline Fracture by Rise Against

Suspension by Mae

Kiss Me Like Nobody's Watching by Simple Plan

I Will Follow You into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie

San Diego by blink-182

Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd

hahahaha oh god, I knew it was gonna be mostly from that playlist but I'm pretty sure 8 or maybe even 9 out of these 10 songs are actually from the Dear Your Holiness playlist by @mollymarymarie because I re-read that fic last week and not only is the fic excellent, the vibes of the playlist are also just so, so good.

Okay I'm not going to tag anyone this time, but if anyone wants to do this tag and expose themselves like I did please feel free to say I tagged you and tag me in your posts so I can see what's on your spotify on repeat! <3

[unproduciblesmackdown]

in the power of Noticing Things The Xth Time Around the instrumentals-imitative "doot. doot. doot. dooWAH" vocals that kick in during the second verse of centerfold? superlative