#like if this is about X specific diagnosis | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

azuremist · 9 months ago

Text

Haruka isn’t autistic-coded – he has an intellectual disability (and why that matters)

(AO3 Mirror)

A lot of people in the MILGRAM fandom (especially English-speaking MILGRAM fandom) state that Haruka is autistic-coded, as if it’s fact. Most recognize that Haruka is coded as disabled. (If you didn’t recognize that, I hope this post will help to explain why.) However, to state that he is coded as autistic specifically is incorrect. Haruka is coded as intellectually disabled.

Now, there are likely two things that contribute to this issue. One is the invisibility of intellectual disability as a whole, and another is the fact that a lot of this has to do with things that only someone who speaks Japanese would understand (such as complex vs non-complex words in Japanese).

In this post, I plan to lay out what an intellectual disability is and how it differs from neurodivergencies such as autism or ADHD. After that, I want to discuss the way Haruka speaks and uses words, the symbolism in his MVs, and how this lends to him being coded as intellectually disabled. Finally, I want to discuss why this even matters at all. Because, in truth, viewing Haruka as autistic instead of intellectually disabled leaves the viewer misunderstanding his story in a huge way that seems far too common in English-speaking MILGRAM fandom. So, I hope you listen to what I have to say.

What does it mean to be intellectually disabled?

Confusing autism and intellectual disability (henceforth referred to as ID) is not an issue unique to the MILGRAM fandom. They are quite commonly mistaken for each other, in the same way that autism and ADHD are both commonly mistaken for each other. And for the same reason, too – autism and ID are comorbid. This means that, if someone is autistic, they are more likely to have an ID. For this reason, it makes perfect sense to headcanon Haruka as autistic. I headcanon him as autistic, myself, actually. But, in this post, I’m going to be strictly talking about his coding, not headcanons, and he is very specifically coded with an ID.

So, what’s the difference? In the words of the National Institutes of Health, “Whereas ID is associated with general deficits across developmental domains, ASD is in fact defined by the observation that social communication deficits are particularly impairing.” (Source)

To say this in layman’s terms, autism is primarily characterized by difficulties in social communications. Cognitive abilities in autistic individuals vary, just like with allistic individuals, but the defining features are issues with social interaction and nonverbal communication. Autism by itself effects how effectively one communicates, but not intelligence. On the other hand, ID is a limitation on intellectual functioning, just like the name implies. This causes issues in areas like learning, problem-solving, and abstract reasoning.

A lot of people think ID is a synonym for ‘learning disability’. ‘Learning disability’ is an umbrella term that covers things such as dyslexia and dysgraphia. This isn’t the case. For one thing, ID can be a diagnosis on its own. ID is subdivided into syndromic ID, where intellectual deficits are present with other signs and symptoms, and nonsyndromic ID, where ID is, itself, the diagnosis. Examples of syndromic IDs include fragile X syndrome, and Down syndrome. For another, those with learning disabilities tend to have average to above-average intellectual abilities. Their disorder affects their ability to acquire and process information, but they are still able to learn. In contrast, ID affects the ability to learn at all, as well as affecting development and general function.

ID is a debilitating disorder. Many people with an ID cannot live independently, require help with self-care activities, and have limited communicative abilities. Understanding this – particularly, how ID is often a disability that requires a caregiver – is a key point to understanding Haruka as a character. But that’s to be covered later.

Words

The reason why this is a problem in the English fandom specifically is because the main thing tipping off the viewer to Haruka’s ID is the way that he speaks.

‘Weakness’, Haruka’s first-trial song, is written entirely in INCREDIBLY basic, elementary-level kanji – mostly hiragana and katakana. In fact, his first-trial song is misspelled in a lot of official releases of the song (‘Weekness’), which is a good way to get the same effect across. This is not the case across all platforms, though, for whatever reason. He also writes, in his trial 1 interrogation, with only that elementary-level kanji; often only one-word answers. The only complicated characters he knows are usually ones that mean something along the lines of, “I’m a stupid, idiot child,” which can be assumed to be because that’s what he has heard his whole life.

While I’m unsure if it is ENTIRELY in this basic kanji, his second trial song and interrogation is at least mostly written like this, as well. At this point, Muu is teaching him how to read and write (or, that’s what’s implied), but, even with that one-on-one attention, he is still speaking like a child most of the time to the Japanese ear.

When he’s forced to use or listen to words outside of this elementary-level kanji, he gets audibly confused, as well. In the AVIOT earbud collab, he has the voiceline, “Pairing seems to be in progress,” but, if you listen, he says “pairing” like it’s a question. (“Pair-ing?”) He doesn’t know the word is an English loanword that isn’t often used in everyday conversation, so he’s struggling to say it.

He also struggles when speaking to Es in his interrogations. He tries to say, “I will acknowledge any falsehood or silence,” but the words used are very advanced in Japanese. As such, he struggles with it, repeating, “False-hood? Si-lence?” Multiple similar exchanges happen in his interrogations, with Haruka misunderstanding words Es uses, and stuttering over unfamiliar words. The implication is that Haruka struggles with higher vocabulary or unfamiliar words, and with speaking and communication in general. He apologizes multiple times to Es for struggling, saying that he is not intelligent as an explanation multiple times. Additionally, in his second trial investigation, he talks about how he could never do the same things as everyone around him. When Es calls him stupid, he agrees. Es even states, “You really have no learning ability whatsoever.” When, mind you, having delayed or slowed learning is, like, the symptom of intellectual disability. It’s quite blatant. (Why is this not fandom consensus yet, again?)

Moving on from the point of how Haruka uses words, we can talk about other forms of word-based MILGRAM media. For example: when introducing himself, he says he thinks he’s 17, which implies that he isn’t actually sure. Additionally, there is lots of evidence for his intellectual disability in his interrogation questions:

He considers it impossible to learn another language

His dream is to ‘live normally’

He states he disappointed his father (not inherently an ID-related thing, but also, makes sense with his coding in mind)

Many answers imply that he’s been unable to live his own life, and he doesn’t really have any aspirations outside of being given attention

Finally, we have the lyrics to his songs. Again, on top of being written in very basic kanji, we have lines like the following, which include repeated themes of needing a caregiver (being ‘hopeless’ by himself), not being able to do what others can do, hating how he was born, and struggling to function. (I have bolded examples that I think are especially apt.)

“Why was I born like this? Why does it hurt so much?” / “Why was I born to be me? Why does it hurt so much?”

“Instead you kept calling me “hopeless” / You never called me by my name / You were always comparing me to someone else”

“If I tried and couldn’t say it, you would get angry at me and say “You’re hopeless”” / “When I tried to understand it, you’ll make that disappointed face again”

“I just wanted to be your good boy” (what did the MILGRAM team want us to think when they included this line? likely that he’s childish or ‘hasn’t grown up’, right?)

“Mommy, look / I’ve done great” (calling her ‘mommy’ instead of ‘mom’ – again, ask what the MILGRAM team wants us to think when they included this)

“If only I could do what anyone else could do”

“It’s enough, I am a “disappointment””

“My life started in a wrong spot”

With regards to his relationship with Muu, he doesn’t understand why Muu using him would be a bad thing, or how she is manipulating him. People with ID tend to have poor judgment, and Haruka not being able to tell the difference and not caring about the difference between negative and positive attention shows this (although his trauma definitely also plays a role).

Finally, we have the trial song titles.

We’ve already discussed how “Weakness” is sometimes alternatively misspelled as “Weekness”, and that is because the title in Japanese is, arguably, misspelled, too. The Japanese title is a play on the phrase jakuniku kyoushoku, which is equivalent to the English phrase, “Survival of the fittest.” More directly, it translates to, “The weak are meat, the strong do eat.” The character for “strong” (kyou) is replaced by “together” (also kyou) – with the implication being that Haruka forgot which version of the word was correct for this situation. This also works to create a pun, of sorts, as this makes the title more like, “The weak are meat, communal eating”, creating an emphasis on the fact that there are more people eating than there are ‘weak people’. There are differing ways to interpret this pun, but one way is to view it as a statement on Haruka’s status as a minority, oppressed (‘eaten’) by the majority.

On the other hand, we have All-Knowing and All-Agony. In Japanese, this song title is Zenchi Zennou, which can be translated as “Omniscient and Omnipotent”, used to describe the Christian God. Once again, we have what we can assume is Haruka misspelling the title, creating a pun. One that is much more on the nose, as the character for “ability” (nou) is replaced with the character for “worry, distress, pain” (also nou).

It seems that the reason why Haruka uses new complicated words (aside from the words meaning “idiot” and the like) in All-Knowing and All-Agony is because Muu is teaching him. It features the more complicated “食” (shoku; food), when we know from Haruka’s 2023 birthday portal that Muu is bringing him meals. It also prominently features Muu’s name, 夢 (yume; dream), which is more complicated, as well.

Imagery

Now, we get on to the non-verbal, more visually-based evidence for Haruka’s ID. Be prepared for a lot more images!

Going back to Muu teaching Haruka how to write: it’s not just clear in his usage of kanji, but also how he writes. Comparing his handwriting, it becomes much easier to read after Trial 2’s start, and his writing is soft and bubbly; much like a teen girl’s writing might be.

All of these improvements are able to be linked back to Muu (both his style of writing and in the more complicated words that he knows), who we know is looking after him. Considering this, it’s pretty clear why he sees her like a maternal figure.

One of the Minigram comics shows the prisoners eating curry udon together. Of the four shown (Amane, Haruka, Shidou and Mahiru), Amane and Haruka are the only two who make messes out of their clothes. Since the other two characters in the comic have active roles, and Haruka has the most passive one, Haruka’s inclusion can be assumed to be because he is the only prisoner aside from the child, Amane, who would make a mess while eating.

Childish themes and imagery are seen scattered throughout his MV, as well, especially his first one. He draws with the skill level of a child, which is a very prevalent motif, and he is shown to sleep with a plushie.

Additionally, he seems to have trouble putting on his clothes. He wears two entirely different socks – not just different colors, but also two different lengths. His pant legs are also two different lengths when he tries to roll them up in his Trial 2 art, and he seems to exclusively wear slip-on shoes up until he befriends Muu (where we can presume that she begins helping him, and even then, they're not done properly).

There are various visual parallels drawn between himself as a child and himself as he is now (for example, the way that his clothes are a mix of his current shirt and the vest he wore as a child in All-Knowing and All-Agony), and he often compares himself to a child wanting praise.

Even the violent acts that Haruka is shown committing are also a sign of an ID. People with IDs tend to have meltdowns, and devolve into fits of violence. The reasons for these meltdowns vary depending on the person, but reasons can include anger / frustration (especially in reaction to not being able to communicate well), sensory overload, and confusion.

You may note that Haruka’s mother reacts the exact wrong way for dealing with these meltdowns. When trying to help someone experiencing a meltdown, especially a violent meltdown, the last thing you want to do is appear frightened. The number one piece of advice everyone gives for helping someone experiencing a meltdown is to remain calm. It’s also not advised to leave the person alone, either, because that sends the message, “I want to avoid you when you feel this way.” (Which I suppose, for a neglectful mother like Haruka’s, would be technically accurate, but still not at all helpful.)

It only makes sense that Haruka’s tantrums continue to get worse and worse.

But after the meltdowns fade, he seems to not understand what he’s done. He’s shown experiencing fear and confusion after he hurts something, even shown as his child self at one point. A major part of IDs is being unable to connect actions to consequences.

Finally, we go onto his body language. Frankly, I considered putting, “Imagine this as a real person doing these things and not an anime boy, and you’ll see my point.” Which is true. But I decided to go a little more in depth.

Swaying is heavily associated with people with IDs. This is, in part, because people with IDs have reduced postural balance, and general body balance. Because of that lack of postural balance, people with IDs tend to slump quite heavily, as well. Both of these traits are shown very obviously with Haruka, in All-Knowing and All-Agony.

In the same MV, he’s also shown biting his nails. Like autistic people, people with IDs stim, and this could also be a version of hand mouthing (repetitive contact between the hands and the mouth / tongue), which is also heavily associated with / often seen in intellectually disabled people. He's also shown doing this in promo art.

So, why does this matter?

Haruka being intellectually disabled is a huge part of his story, and, when taking it into consideration, it changes how one views his story a lot.

Haruka being treated better as a child makes more sense with this framework. He wants to return to when he was a child because his level of intellect then was seen as more ‘normal’. There wasn’t as much obviously ‘wrong’ with him yet. Children are expected to be a little slow, but it’s when they remain that way that many parents begin to become concerned. He yearns for when his mother didn’t know he was disabled, and when she treated him better for that reason.

Haruka being severely neglected / abused by his mother would be awful, no matter what, but him being intellectually disabled makes it so much worse. He needs attention and care from his caregivers even more so than the average child does, because he has trouble even functioning on the day-to-day without help. This is why he thrives under Muu’s care; she is meeting his support needs. Likely not perfectly (she’s just a teenage girl, and she is almost certainly not trained or educated in this regard), but even with the amount of support that she is able to give, Haruka is thriving. He’s more confident, he’s learning how to write, and he’s eating more consistently.

Without that care, he struggles so severely that he melts down regularly, going into fits of violence over the fact that his support needs aren’t being met (on top of all of the other emotional baggage that comes with any child being neglected by their parent). Haruka’s mother continued to ignore these cries for attention, for help, for care… Until it went too far.

The way that Haruka’s story is viewed changes drastically with this information. If Haruka was autistic, it would affect very few of the things that I listed. So much of Haruka's story hinges on specifically his intelligence level, not how he socializes. And do you have any idea how many people I’ve seen say, “He’s a neurodivergent with a shitty mom, but so am I, and I didn’t kill anyone about it”? No. If you are not intellectually disabled, you do not get to compare your experiences as if they are equal. If you don’t have an ID, your experiences cannot be compared in this way.

Haruka has a debilitating disability that requires support which he was not getting. He was experiencing ableist abuse at the hands of his mother, and he didn’t know how to handle it. All of his violence happened during his meltdowns, and his disability makes it harder for him to connect his actions to the consequences, or find alternate ways to solve his problems – this is all extremely important information and context when you’re discussing whether or not his crime is forgivable.

If you still don’t forgive him, that’s alright. But to neglect this aspect of his character is, to be frank, baffling, if you’re trying to participate in the spirit of the series and understand everyone’s crime to the fullest extent. And to make jokes, comparing your own experiences to Haruka’s, since you assume him to be neurodivergent and nothing else, does a huge disservice to his story! And, when it’s done to demean him? It honestly comes off a slight bit ableist.

So, I’d like everyone to keep this information in mind moving forward. Don’t infantilize Haruka for his disability. But do consider this information in your analysis posts, your discussions, and so on. I’d like to see this become common knowledge in the MILGRAM fandom, especially since the idea of him being specifically autistic-coded is so widespread by this point.

Thank you!

#haruka sakurai #milgram #the milgram project #milgram meta #milgram analysis #intellectual disability #haruka #sakurai haruka #azure does a thing

639 notes · View notes

communistkenobi · 21 days ago

Text

There is a baseline transmedicalism in framing transition as a purely medical process. “transition” is synonymous with medically transitioning, with taking hormones and having “corrective” surgery. This is a framing that largely comes from cissexual doctors and psychologists, but it has also been taken up in mainstream trans discourse by many trans people. It reduces the concept of “changing sex” to a medical procedure, and as a result, reaffirms the idea of sex as a purely biological category. It doesn’t account for the fact that you are also administratively and socially trans-sexual - some of the most intensely transgender moments in my life have been signing forms to change my name with yet another governmental department, with sending human rights complaints to my phone company because they refused to accept my name change documentation, with booking an appointment with a lawyer to notarise an application to change my sex marker on my birth certificate, with emailing my employer for the fourth time to PLEASE change my name in their internal emailing system. Administrative transition isn’t just simply updating a record here or there, you are comprehensively, administratively altering your position within the family, within marriage, within insurance claims, within census data, within the state itself. To use a phrase by Stryker & Sullivan, you are petitioning the king to correct the record of your own life. There’s nothing biological about that

and yes, these administrative and social transitions are often legitimatised through medical transition - you frequently need a psychiatric diagnosis to “prove” you need to change your sex marker, you need a doctor to affirm you’ve been on hormones for X number of months in order to get a replacement government ID or get put on a surgery waiting list. I had to have a specific surgery so I could fit into men’s clothing. Medical transition allows you to move through cis social spaces while being recognised as your gender. And also like, medical transition feels good! I love taking testosterone, I’m happy with my top surgery scars. I like being treated like a man by other people & medical transition has helped me achieve that. But there’s nothing inherently biological about this arrangement - the authority of the doctor and psychiatrist is what gets you legitimacy. I didn’t have to send pics of my top surgery to the federal government to change my ID, I needed the signature of a doctor. And this updated ID means my landlord and employer and bank and phone company and the cashier selling me alcohol all gender me correctly. No biology involved here!

#even old new york was once new amsterdam

181 notes · View notes

sunshine-theseus · 4 months ago

Text

Fools | Kyra Cooney-Cross x ND!Reader

Words: 4.3k

Summary: no one understood your mind, until you met Kyra.

Notes: Guys I have no knowledge of how Emirates is laid out, how meeting players off the pitch works etc, so I’m completely making this shit up I’m sorry. also sorry for the super long introduction, and the shit writing, I haven’t written in months.

Warnings: mentions of abuse - not proofread. i'm so sorry if this is so shit i genuinely haven't written in months. i wanted this one to be good so bad but i just don't think it is

the person who requested this has since deactivated so i actually feel so bad that i didn't get this out while they were on here. i'm genuinely so sorry for the past like 6 months.

I always struggled with social interactions. I didn’t understand it for a long time, why I always had to smile and hug people, why I had to lie about certain things like how I thought my aunt’s bright green hat looked, why I couldn’t ramble about Star Wars or the new penguin facts I just learned.

Then there were the sounds, and lights and the way things felt. Everything had to be specific, or I couldn’t focus. Sometimes if it was bad enough that I would have a breakdown, unable to do anything. My parents tried to scold it out of me when as a kid I couldn’t eat certain foods or wear the clothes they wanted. Sometimes if they deemed it worthy, I’d be met with the flesh of a palm against my cheek or bottom.

When I was 12, I presented the idea that maybe I was autistic to my parents. I’d researched it at school for a social emotional learning class we had to take, and I couldn’t help but notice the similarities I found within myself. If I think about it hard enough, I can feel every burning outline of the dark red hand marks that bloomed on my skin hours after the interaction, and the burning of my eyes as my stomach rumbled, drowned out by the music rumbling through my headphones.

At 17 I emancipated from my parents and moved to North Watford, renting out a small studio apartment above a record shop. I completed my final year of high school, working part time in the store, building a much-desired routine. The man that owned the shop and my apartment, and his young daughter, were migrants from Cuba, and more than happy to accommodate to my needs. They even chipped in to help me pay for my autism screening after I graduated high school.

I think they were the first people I willingly hugged ever.

I stopped masking when I moved, so the daughter, Elena; 5, took a few months to understand why I didn’t like touch or loud noises and why I didn’t understand some of the jokes she said that others usually laughed at. Not that I’d had the diagnosis at that time, but she was happy to just spend time with me. Every afternoon when I came back from school and started my shift, she’d beg me for more penguin facts, asking which was my favourite penguin. In return she’d spend the 2-hour shift drawing me something, usually a penguin, to pin on my corkboard at home.

I’d then help with her homework while Camilo closed shop and posted any online orders. It was a routine I cherished deeply.

Now, 3 and a bit years later at 21 years old, they managed to drag me to a football game. Equipped with headphones and a couple small sensory toys, as well as a hoodie under the “Miedema” jersey, the material of which originally had me tugging and prying the shirt away from my skin.

Elena and Camilo had been big fans of Arsenal for as long as I’d known them, going to every home game, begging me to join them every week without fail. I finally caved during a break in my uni courses, with nothing to do and Elena’s birthday falling on the day of a game, there was no other choice.

The newly 9-year-old basically imploded when she saw my printed ticket stub, tucked tightly into her birthday card. I gently ruffled her hair, which had become my version of hugging her, and showed her the 3 matching red and white #11 jerseys I purchased not long ago. She’d talked a lot about this Vivianne Miedema and how she wanted to be just like her when she grew up, but she’d never gotten a jersey, or seats on the bottom tier. Today was the day.

“Come ooonnn I want to get to our seats!” the pinky of her left hand links with my right one as her other hand is holding her dad’s, and she’s dragging us down the lane toward the entrance.

“Slow down Pollito! We have 20 more minutes until we need to be seated.” My special schedule for the day runs through my head as I check my watch. Plenty of time as long as the crowd keeps flowing.

“I wish you didn’t learn Spanish. It’s such a silly nickname.”

“But you’re my little chicken.” I send a joking frown her way and she replies with a toothless grin.

With the abrupt end to the conversation, we arrive at the gate. Showing the stewardess our tickets to be scanned, we then head toward our seats. As Camilo and I take our seats at the very front, instead of make way to their usual seats a tier up, Elena stops and looks back and forth between us.

“There’s no way you got us these seats.” Without a word I pull the girl in between us and she begins to ramble about how excited she is to be able to see the game so close, still able to be clearly heard through my headphones I manage to slip over my ears.

The game is drawn 1-1 just after half time, but Arsenal is close to having the upper hand. From across the pitch, Elena spots the tall and lanky number 11, Vivianne Miedema, pulling off her fluoro yellow bib and warm up shirt and lining up next to number 32 behind the fourth official who is prepping her sign. With a couple of whacks to my arm and an aggressive point of her finger, Elena makes me and Camilo very aware of the impending entrance of her favourite player, and another really attractive girl who is very obviously wearing her socks on the wrong feet. The thought makes me squirm but a shot on goal quickly manages to take my focus.

“Who’s the one coming on with Viv? You’ve never told me about number 32.” It’s hard to take my eyes off the girl as she jumps from one foot to the other, anticipating her entrance.

“Oh that’s Kyra Cooney-Cross! She’s Australian, she transferred at the start of the season. Jonas should play her more.” I acknowledge her words with a hum and a nod before we join in cheering Viv and Kyra on.

My eyes are glued to Kyra the rest of the game. Without any knowledge of how football works, I’m left to assume she’s good with the way she dances around players and passes the ball. It was weird, but her movement was so free flowing it would not be atrocious to confuse her with a ballerina. Elegant and calculated, no hesitation.

“Where are we going?” my pinky is once again linked with Elena’s as I drag her and Camilo through Emirates.

“Papa where is she going? The exit is that way.”

“I have no clue chica, but I suppose we should trust her aye?” with that, the father-daughter duo track behind me.

Eventually I stop just where the opening of the tunnel leads out on to the pitch and show a lady the pass I’d been carrying around all day. She smiles and begins walking down the tunnel, waving behind her as a sign for us to follow.

“What’s going on?” Elena asks once again, but I just follow the lady onto the pitch, where multiple members of the Arsenal squad are now loitering around, obviously waiting for something, or someone. At the front of the group is Viv, and when she spots the small girl behind me her eyes light up.

“Hi! You must be Elena. We’ve heard a lot about you!” she sends the girl a smile, but Elena doesn’t make any move to continue the conversation. My head whips to her and I nearly have to laugh from how adorable she is. Her jaw has dropped open and her eyes are welling up with tears, so I ruffle her hair and bend down to her height, removing my headphones.

“What’s up buttercup?” I lightly tap her head.

“That’s really her.” she whispers to me, her eyes not leaving the Dutch woman, who lets out a chuckle.

“Yes it is.”

“How?” I tap the side of my nose at her question indicating it’s to be left a secret.

“Can I have a hug?” Viv kneels on one knee and opens her arms and Elena suddenly breaks lose from her trance and runs up to her hero.

“It’s nice to meet you liefje, I hear you’ve been a fan for a long time. And today’s your birthday. How old are you turning?”

“Nine!”

“Oh wow, you’re growing up!”

“I know, but Y/N still calls me Pollito. I’m not a little chicken.” Everyone looking on bursts out laughing as Elena frowns, and while I join them, the loud sound simply reminds me of the lack of protection on my ears.

Elena gets whisked off to talk and play around with Viv and some of the other girls, who seem to all have taken a genuine liking to the young girl, Camilo following to watch over them. I stand firmly on the sidelines, fidgeting with an infinity cube and trying to forget the sudden scratching of my hoodie’s tag on the back of my neck and the tightness of my socks, when a now familiar face pops in front of me.

I don’t notice her at first, my eyes are closed and I’m trying breathing patterns in hopes that the overstimulating sensations with dissipate. It’s only when I open my eyes to check on Elena that I get the shock of my life. Number 32 is just standing in front of me, staring, waiting for me to notice her. no less than a minute ago she’d been spinning Elena around and laughing with her, which I’d found alarmingly adorable, how’d she get here so fast?

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles and waves, and I realise she must think I can’t hear her with my headphones on, which many people tend to ignore. Wow she’s much prettier up close.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” I return her smile, but don’t make any move to remove the headphones.

“I’m Kyra.” Her voice is muffled but her accent is incredible and like music to my ears.

“You played really well today.” Is she blushing? Red creeps up her neck and finds home on her round cheeks as she smiles brightly.

“Ah thanks, I try to give it my all. Hoping to prove I deserve more game time.”

“You don’t get played often?” another chuckle passes her lips and I feel my stomach tighten.

“Uh no. I take it you’re not a big football fan?”

“What gives you that idea.”

“Well rocking up to an Arsenal game with blue nails for a start.” I cock my head to the side and give her a confused look. I did a lot of research for today, there was no room for me to mess up.

“Chelsea, our biggest rivals, their colour is blue. It’s basically forbidden for an arsenal fan to wear blue to a game. Trust me, I learnt the hard way.”

I’m quick to hide my hands in the pocket at the front of my hoodie, fidgeting with my nails. How did I manage to fuck that up?

“You don’t really have to worry, just maybe keep it in mind if you ever come to another game. I hope you do by the way.” She flashes me a smile that makes me feel warm and I can’t help myself.

“You’re very pretty.” She’s about to reply when I glance down and notice her socks are still wrong.

“And I’m not sure if you know but your socks are on the wrong feet.” It’s quiet for a moment and I’m not sure if my common candour has once again overstepped. I can’t even open my mouth to apologise before she giggles.

“I knew there was something wrong. I keep doing it but no one tells me until after the game… and you’re quite beautiful yourself. If you don’t mind me saying.” My eyes continue to avoid her face as I bounce on the balls of my feet and try to refrain from shaking my hands, my most common stim.

“Thank you.”

We’re silent for a minute or so, which I don’t mind now that I’m more familiar with her. I continue to watch Elena and Camilo, who are now playing in a 5v5, Viv carrying the girl halfway down their makeshift pitch before helping her kick the ball. When her laughs echo through the stadium, joy breaking through her screams and from the yells of her dad who is playing a rather poor referee, I’m reminded of how much I love this family. I can’t help the smile on my face.

“Your sister is very adorable.” I glance to my side where Kyra now resides and contemplate telling her she isn’t my sister, but the words get stuck in my throat. If I were to say they weren’t my family after all they’ve done for me, then I’d be lying.

“Yeah. She’s basically my whole life.”

“Hey can I ask about the headphones? I mean you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want but-“

“I’m autistic. Struggle really bad with sound and other stimulants. I wear headphones to dampen sounds, especially in public. And stadiums are full of sounds.” My palms sweat a little and my breath is laboured for a moment. This is usually the part where people decide I’m a freak and never talk to me again.

“Oh cool. I totally get that, the sound thing.” That warm feeling returns. She doesn’t question anything, she just agrees.

Eventually the meet and greet had to end, but I manage to get a few of the girl’s numbers, including number 32’s. Something I hadn’t expected was that the team would love Elena so much that they wanted to organise season tickets and some more passes to meet up after home games. I couldn’t help but be a little proud of myself as the young girl rambled about how amazing it was to get to hang out with her idols, and the prospect of seeing them again.

Uni starts back up the following week, so I don’t join the two for a game for quite a while. Despite that, I find myself texting Kyra most days, a good morning and goodnight routine quickly being established. We ask each other questions about each other. ‘What did you want to be if football didn’t work out?’ ‘What made you want to study your course?’ ‘what’s your favourite thing about Australia?’.

She liked to ask me about parts of my autism every now and then. She wanted to know what things to avoid, what topics made me ramble for ages, safe foods. The only other people who had ever cared this much were Elena and Camilo. The two of which had definitely taken note of how happy I’d grown since the game.

“Who are you talking to Angelito? You haven’t smiled this big in a long time.” Camilo takes a seat beside me behind the desk of the store

There is no need to hide the blossoming relationship from him, so I turn my screen to show the messages between Kyra and I, a bold ‘No. 32’ under a very weird but unmistakable picture of the girl. He hums and smiles, lightly nudging our shoulders together.

“She likes you.”

“Pft no she doesn’t.”

“‘you’re so cute.’ ‘I really like you.’ ‘I’ll save that for when I take you on a date.’ With a winky face emoji. She literally admits she likes you. Twice.”

“I thought that was that flirty thing people do with their friends.”

“I know when people like each other.”

“How Milo?”

“I have a gift.”

“A gift hmm?” he just smiles widely down at me before taking my phone again. He begins to type something.

“What are you writing Milo? Milo!” I glance over his shoulder.

‘I really like you and would like to go on a date if you’re free.’ I’m about to scold him but three dots appear as Kyra begins typing.

“If this works you owe me an extra hour this week.”

“You are an evil schemer Camilo.” I say before squeezing his shoulder, a common sign of affection we’d developed.

‘I’d really like that. Tomorrow’s our day off if that works.’

I can’t help the squeal I let out as Camilo writes a response in confirmation.

“I’m going on a date.”

“You deserve this kiddo.”

Kyra and I agree on a dinner date at a restaurant I’d mentioned really enjoying a few months ago, that I hadn’t had a chance to visit since. I’d made the reservation, asking for the specific table I’d sat at the last time I came, and I’d already decided on what I was getting before I even hoped in the car to drive there.

I’d planned everything perfectly. The place, my outfit, what time I had to leave to arrive there 10 minutes before our agreed upon time. I hadn’t taken into account the car speeding through a red light and crashing into the car in the right lane beside me. Or the fact that due to the momentum I’d get caught between the 2 cars and the building on the corner of the street I was just about to turn down. No more than 15 metres from the restaurant but I’m trapped and the seatbelt is too tight and my head hurts. I’m crushed between my door and the centre console and all the sirens and ambulance lights approaching are too much and all I can do it cry.

If I could just reach my bag in the footwell of the passenger seat I could get my headphones to relieve some of the stimulation, but I can’t bend that way without my ribs screaming and whatever is poking my hip in my back making itself known.

I pray to every god I can name that I pass out, but no one hears as the jaws of life pry open my door. When were the other cars moved?

“Ma’am we have to cut you out. my colleague here is going to hold you up. Is that okay?” I don’t have any energy to say no, so I nod, waiting for some scissors to snip away at the seatbelt. Instead, I hear an electric saw whir to life.

“W- what’s the saw for?” my words are barely recognisable as they slur together.

“Ma’am everything is okay, just stay still for us okay?”

The sawing is over quicker than it begun, and the paramedics make an effort to move me as carefully as they can onto the stretcher, then into the ambulance. I make no move to complain about how the neck brace is itchy and feels suffocating.

A minute passes and through the newly developed ringing in my ears, I hear someone calling my name. they sound so far away but when I open my eyes again, Kyra is standing above me, next to the paramedic who’s hooking me up to monitors,

“Do you know this lady ma’am?” she asks me as I stare up at the girl I was meant to be on a date with.

“Yeah she’s my girlfriend.” A voice in the back of my head is worried that maybe that will freak Kyra out, but I know they won’t let her ride with me if we don’t have some close connection and for some reason friend does not cross my mind.

They allow her to take the extra seat beside me and she loops her pinky with mine. She keeps glancing down toward my stomach and taking deep breaths as we make our way down the streets of London. I try to see what she’s looking at but the brace doesn’t allow me to look that far down.

“You’re going to be okay.” She whispers as they roll me out of the ambulance, and she manages to quickly kiss me before I’m gone from view.

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but when I wake up there is a sterile white light beaming down on me and I have to instantly close my eyes. I’m quick to take note of the horrible feeling of the hospital gown I definitely wasn’t in when I’d gone under.

“Papa! She’s awake!” I let out a groan at the yell but and quick to smile once the voice registers in my head.

“Pollito.” My voice is no more than a whisper, hoarse and dry.

“Hey Angelito. How are you feeling.”

“Horrible. The light’s too bright and the gown is so itchy.” Neither Elena nor Camilo leave my side, but the light is off within seconds.

“I more meant physically. You were hit pretty hard.” The screeching of tyres, the smell of burnt rubber, the flashing lights, all rush back to me. So does the pain.

“Now that you mention it. What’s the damage?” it’s meant as a joke but I’m trying not to cry.

“3 broken ribs, 2 fractured, a torn vastus lateralis in your thigh, a lot of muscle damage in your back. It’s going to be a lot of physical therapy kiddo.” The thought has bile rising in my throat.

“Fuck me.”

“It’s okay, we’re going to be here the whole way. All of us.” By now I could know the voice in a crowd of people.

I turn my head and there she is. Kyra is sat in one of the uncomfortable hospital seats with her hand on top of mine.

“If it’s okay with you, Camilo, me and some of the arsenal girls are going to sort out a schedule to take turns helping you with PT. Viv was really hoping she could give some tips considering how long she spent doing PT.”

“That sounds perfect. But please tell me one of you has my pyjamas. I need to get out of this gown.”

There was no lie in how difficult rehab was. I had an hour appointment at the hospital every day and additional work at home that Milo, Kyra and some of the arsenal girls happily helped with. The hardest hurdle was amount of physical touch that was required. My physical therapist, Jordan, always made sure I knew when she needed to touch my leg or something, but that did very little to sooth the feeling that crawled beneath my skin. She was able to dim the fluorescent white lights and allowed me to wear my headphone which did help a small amount.

Kyra basically moved into my room above the shop. Milo insisted he could do all the work of getting me around the house and the shop, but we knew he couldn’t while maintaining the shop and looking after Elena. Elena tried her best to help by making me breakfast. She gathered pre-made versions of my safe breakfast food and carefully place them separately on a plate, with a glass of orange juice every morning. After the first week she realised I’d be in a wheelchair and struggling to move around much for much longer than she thought, so she quickly gave up on that idea and began making me penguin drawings at school.

I’d adapted to having Kyra around much quicker than I expected to. When I moved in at 17, it took me months to get used to the layout and the fact that I was alone, despite Camilo and Elena living in the house across the road. I adapted to Kyra’s presence within weeks.

After the second week we’d decided it was easier to share the bed rather than her sleeping on the couch, which had been the biggest change. I struggled with it the first few nights. I had a sleep routine that was already disrupted by the injuries, now I had to take another person into account. But she was so warm, and I felt so safe in her arms. Whenever I woke up from a nightmare about the crash, she grabbed me an iced tea and my headphones and would ramble about whatever interests she had recently developed or whatever was happening at training.

It was in the second month things took a more serious turn. Well serious for our relationship. I was sitting at the table chopping the vegetables for dinner while she begins cooking, when I took a minute to just look at her. The warm lighting softened her features, her quiet humming to whatever song was playing carried throughout the room, the smile that seemed to never leave her face sat perfectly on her lips as she listened to me ramble about the newly discovered yellow king penguin. She was so radiant and attentive, and she was never annoyed at me when I was overstimulated or wanted to infodump. She was seemingly unaffected by my rehab and most importantly unaffected by my autism. After a life full of negative interactions and losing people because of one thing I couldn’t control, I’d found a family and a partner who embraced me.

I didn’t realise I was crying until she turned and asked me what was wrong.

“I’m just grateful.”

“For what?”

“You, Milo, Elena. I love you all so much.” I didn’t realise I’d said it really. I was just being candid, as I always was.

“You love me?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation even as it dawned on me.

“Well, I love you too.” There is a split second between the end of her sentence and the meeting of our lips in a kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” I ask as we pull away.

“Wait- I thought- when you called me your girlfriend on the ambulance I kind of took that as you asking me to be your girlfriend.” She begins laughing.

“What? This whole time I’ve been nervous about actually asking you and you already thought I had?” I can’t help but join her laugh.

“We’re such fools.” She whispers, and we kiss again.

I'll always be a fool for her.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #wsl #womens soccer #arsenal fcw #kyra cooney cross x reader #kyra cooney cross

213 notes · View notes

snailmail444 · 3 months ago

Note

Can I get a headcanon of the bachelors and how they'd be sexy with you when you're down? Like, if they're trying to cheer you up and be a little goofy with it but also tryna HIT. THAT. 🤣🤣🤣

Thanks Snail, ILU.

Bachelors Goofing Their way Into Your Pants

18+ 🌱 MDNI 🌱 NSFW (-ish)

This one was a tough ask Libby but I’ll do nothing if not stand and deliver 🫡 Honestly might be my favorite head cannon list for the bachelors I’ve ever done so THANK YOU for this prompt icon. NSFW? -ish under the cut (lewd?? Idk lol)

Harvey-

💚 Perhaps the goofiest about this

💚 He would not try to come onto you when you’re down unless he KNOWS it’s going to pick you up

💚 So once he’s confident let’s start there

💚 It’s a song and dance

💚 Dissappears, and when he’s back he’s got his med kit

💚 He gets out the stethoscope and all. The whole nine yards.

💚 That’s right folks. We’re paging Dr. Love

💚 Will NOT let you stop this routine. Dr. Love WILL be completing the full assessment. Listening to your heart rate, checking your throat and ears, somehow always having to complete a chest exam

💚 (M or F he will be groping your tits for this one)

💚 The diagnosis is in

💚 There’s Only One Cure for What Ails You

💚 You guessed it! You need a little lovin’ (Dr. Love’s catchphrase)

💚 Important note: Dr. Love is not a licensed medical practitioner

💚 This works a little too well perhaps. He’s so confident for no reason at all LMAO

💚 Lowkey want to write a Dr. Love oneshot now because this is really fun and cute

Elliott-

❤️ If you’re feeling down man will preform the absolute worst ad lib poetry

❤️ Silliest lymrics you’ve ever heard

❤️ Dumb dumb dummmmmb

❤️ Very dirty and stupid bad poems about you

❤️ Specifically about his favorite parts of your body

❤️ Or his favorite things you do during sex

❤️ The worse it is, the better as far as he is concerned

❤️ Raunchy dirty filthy

❤️ But like. In the most grade school mother goose style he can manage

❤️ No flowery language here

❤️ Takes off your clothes to expose the parts of you the he’s referring to

❤️ When you do x thing (then tries to make you do x thing)

❤️ Will be proving his point. Period!!!

Alex-

🤎 Physical touch legend

🤎 Wrestles

🤎 Winner gets whatever they want from the loser

🤎 Has a wrestling name and all

🤎 Does the John Cena theme

🤎 His hands end up in all sorts of places that they don’t need to be

🤎 Most wrestlers aren’t grabbing ass 🤨

🤎 Gets you in some really tight, close pins, but somehow you end up winning anyway

🤎 No I didn’t let you win don’t be ridiculous I respect the sport too much to ever—

🤎 He let you win

🤎 You can take your prize now 😌 Whatever you want 😌

🤎 And if his hard on is pressing against you? Well. Maybe he has some ideas about what your prize should be

Shane-

💙 Gets you through the hard stuff first, so once you’re on the mend he’s goofing to the max

💙 KING FLEXER!

💙 Aw babe come on? How can you be so sad when you have these guns to look at?

💙 Runs through a series of absurd poses to show off his muscly farm boy arms

💙 Lays it on really thick about being a stud

💙 “No matter what at the end of the day you have a trophy husband” (even if he’s not married to you. ESPECIALLY if he’s not married to you)

💙 STRIP! TEASE!!

💙 Showing off everything you’re so lucky to have with a big goofy grin on his face

💙 Throwing his clothes across the room and everything

💙 Making the music sounds with his mouth

💙 You HAVE to whistle or hoot at him or clap or something

💙 He demands applause from his audience if he’s not getting some singles at least

Sam-

🩷 Another song and dancer

🩷 This man was born for the stage I fear

🩷 Genuinely and truly putting on a SHOW about it all

🩷 The drama of it. Uh oh, he’s compromised!

🩷 Will end up ‘stuck’ under the couch or table or anywhere else

🩷 Uh oh! I hope nobody takes advantage of me 👀 When I’m so exposed 👀👀 and vulnerable 👀👀👀

🩷 The worst stage acting you’ve ever seen in your life

🩷 Starts stripping in the middle of the living room because he “didn’t see you there!”

🩷 Pretends to be scandalized when you finally succumb to his advances

🩷 What are you doing?! Huh? What do you MEAN I was coming on to you? I always take off all my clothes in the kitchen, that’s ritual

🩷 insists he’s been objectified and taken advantage of

🩷 That kind of turns him on though let’s be so fucking real

Sebastian-

🖤 Okay so we’re going blunt king here

🖤 Two possible options

🖤 Uses it as a way to hard reset the system mid breakdown

🖤 Full crying, upset, whatever, he’s been holding you and trying to calm you down but it’s not working

🖤 “Wanna have sex?”

🖤 DEADPANNNNNN delivery

🖤 It never fails. Tried and true

🖤 Option two?

🖤 This is ONLY if mans is super comfortable in your dynamic

🖤 A classic

🖤 Whips it out

🖤 Thinking about that one tweet of the boyfriend who was in the mood and just put his dick on her shoulder while she was watching tv

🖤 Like that but buried under sixteen levels of irony

🖤 “I know what’ll help” and then he pulls his dick out

🖤 Probably the least likely to actually hit with these methods

🖤 However, he’s maybe the most likely to help improve your mood substantially

🖤 Through sheer presentation if nothing else. Man can deliver, and knows when to hit with the absurd to make it the most impactful

241 notes · View notes

palajae · 1 year ago

Text

love me (k)not. | 1k special

PAIRING ▸ niki x reader, slight jungwon x reader

GENRE ▸ soulmate! au, string of fate! au, photographer! au, childhood-friends-to-lovers, romance, fluff, angst, humor, SLOW BURN

WORD COUNT▸ 15.6k

SUMMARY ▸ yes, niki can see the red string of fate that connects two people together. and no, he can’t just tell people who their soulmate is. you’re his only friend but there’s one problem and he can see it quite clearly (and literally)- your string isn’t connected to his.

AKA a reality check that niki loves you, no matter what the universe says.

AN/NOTES ▸ mentions of bullying, slight violence, child experimentation, food, drinking/alcohol (but only with an aged up riki and reader!!), kissing, jungwon being a jerk for a little :(

hi guys did anyone miss me :) it’s been a long ride but due to popular request for longer oneshots here is a very long one that i basically died over! i really hope you guys enjoy it as i worked super hard, and thank you guys again for 1k (more like 1.2k now but) ily 🩷

i. one string, two strings, red strings, new strings.

he doesn’t know when it really started. it simply happened one cloudy afternoon. and it’s not like the subject was completely foreign to riki, oh no, he had definitely heard tales from older people about the topic.

unfortunately for him, it just had to be when he was a mere seven year old. ‘it’ meaning the delicate and thin red strings— almost identical to the yarn his grandma would use for knitting—appearing all around him, encasing him in a world like a spy in a laser trap trying to escape with their precious treasure.

tiny riki frowned, glancing around while still having a tight grip on his mother’s hand in order not to get lost in the vast mall they were currently shopping at. his attention was suddenly caught, eyes focusing on the larger hand he was still holding onto. more specifically, the pinky finger of his mother’s right hand.

a perfect little knot wrapped around her smallest finger.

his eyes followed the string, but it traveled quite far through the crowd of people and he eventually gave up, the string pulling farther than he thought. later would he really figure out the meaning of this, but at the time, he simply tugged on his mother’s shirt, attracting her attention. she glanced down, answering her child with a hum.

cautiously, riki took a quick peek around at the passerby’s, confirming what he saw on what seemed to be about everyone else’s hands as well, almost getting lost in the maze of the red before his eyes flicked up to her.

“what are the red strings for?”

his mother raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to hear better. “what? repeat what you said, riki.”

he stood up straighter, clearing his throat. “i said, what are the red strings on everyone’s hand for?”

riki’s mother paused, a train of thoughts running through her head. once an answer finally appeared, she attempted to calm her suddenly racing heart before squatting down and leaning even closer to her son. she looked him carefully in the eye, and riki can still remember the movement of her lips speaking clearly and slowly, the words that left her lips that day and changed his life forever.

“just like the ones grandpa told you about?”

he remembers exactly what he responded back with.

“yes.”

they went to the doctors eventually for assistance. riki now knows it would’ve been inevitable, and perhaps earlier was better than later.

the doctor returned back with what seemed like an impossible diagnosis: riki can see people’s red strings of fate.

their soulmate connections.

then came the questions, tests, experiments. it lasted for a long time in little riki’s head, and it was indeed a long time for a child. several years- five to be exact. five years spent in a lab, all in solitude, to be kept under control and monitored over time.

riki remembers the overwhelming amount of people. people like the scientists with the tidy white coats and glasses who came in and took his blood or ran tests on his eyes and brain. he also remembers the average people who would occasionally come in, usually a man and woman looking quite anxious and timid, and who would sit down in front of him, both hands clearly in sight of riki.

every time, as if it was natural instinct, his eyes would flick down to their right hand, spotting the tied knot on their pinky. then a scientist would ask questions-

do you see a red string? yes.

can you see who it is connected to? yes.

is it to each other?

yes—most of the time. occasionally, he would answer no with a shake of his head. there was always the variety of responses from the people. a gasp, crestfallen look, maybe even tears. whispers and murmurs would come from the white coated people as they wrote stuff down.

riki was confused. did being soulmates really matter when most people (meaning everyone except riki) never had to ability to see who their soulmate was anyways? people fell in and out of love, regardless.

the lab came up with a final conclusion: most likely, nishimura riki could indeed see people’s soulmates through their red strings. he couldn’t touch the red strings, it was like they were just imaginary, only visible to him. but they had no idea how, but they knew he could see them and if they were connected or not in accordance with his field of vision.

most would think he was just a kid faking it—with a great deal of imagination—but his accuracy of determining two people’s soul connection was a little too frightening to be a childish prank.

form what riki overheard, the government planned to keep his special “power” a secret. after all, riki was just a kid. public knowledge only meant trouble and who knew what else. half argued to leave the poor kid alone, while others vouched to keep him under surveillance for the rest of his life.

either way, riki was forced to keep his mouth shut about his ability—not that he wouldn’t have wanted to say anything anyway.

of course, rumors and secrets still leaked out, but for the most part, riki seemed to be safe. maybe a little too safe. he didn’t really have friends. no, he didn’t have friends at all.

personally, the imaginary ones appearing in his years of loneliness didn’t count. riki possessed a power the world had never seen before, but he had no friends. no childhood. no life.

after five years of living alone in a laboratory surrounded by white lights, white clothes, and more white walls, riki was finally released when the government reached a dead end in their research. how much power could a kid with soulmate seeing abilities wield? the government hoped it was close to none. besides, no one knew when he could get called in again.

his parents? yes, he supposed they did love him. but enough to keep him from being tested on for years and not having a proper life? other would argue it was for the benefit of his “special ability.”

research gave answers that in reality, didn’t have any use. (his parents wouldn’t mention the copious compensation fee the government gave for testing on their son, though).

and riki’s red string himself?

he had to admit, when he was first discovering his newly identified ability, he was also curious about who his soulmate could be. and like many, many others when he took a peek, the string just carried on in the distance, unable to display the carrier of the other end.

once riki was back in the “real world,” he was kept mostly at home during the heat of the summer. but he would always remember the feeling of being taken out of his room and directed outside into a dark, heavily guarded vehicle for occasional checkups. he remembers glancing outside while driving past tall buildings and sometimes seeing countless red strings pass him by, a sight he hadn’t seen since going to the mall with his mother all those years ago.

his mother walked into his room one day with a clean, white envelope in her hands and an unreadable expression on her face. he looked up from his hands, eyes catching her red string hanging again before looking at his mother fully.

“you’re attending a new school, riki.”

ii. eros and psyche.

the cursed rules echo in his mind. they were pretty simple, yet held the heaviest consequences.

don’t tell anyone about your abilities.

especially don’t tell anyone about their soulmate.

it wasn’t his choice to. it’s not like he wanted to, either. even at the mere age of twelve, riki wasn’t one to mess with fate or whatever the universe was doing to him. the red lines invaded his personal space, but at some point it didn’t bother him anymore.

what really bothered him was the daunting task of attending school. learning in person, having homework, interacting with others.

riki was educated at the labs, but that schooling came in the form of simple workbooks and videos.

needless to say, the first few days were rough.

quite hard.

very hard.

waking up early probably got riki the most. being surrounded by so many other kids was quite overwhelming. especially when they stared at him whenever he passed by like he was different.

which, he was.

everyone else had established their respective friend groups already. he learned why pretty early on, though. why the weird looks and gossip passed by him. it was all because of one girl who just really couldn’t whisper for her life. (even without confirming or denying it, he wondered how they found out?)

he even started to go by niki instead of riki—the one letter difference was the best he could do.

perhaps rumors were spreading quickly around about riki and his ‘power’ to see others’ red strings connected to their soulmates.

not even a week of school and riki already developed his own reputation. a feat of its own, no?

at first, it was hard to adjust to seeing so many other kids, waking up at the crack of dawn, and managing the stupid overload of work—basically what seemed to be about everything. but somehow, riki felt a bit more settled in, if he could even describe it as that.

he was quiet, extremely, but still very well known around the school. his grades weren’t bad after all, it turns out riki was pretty alright at “school”, although he mostly slept in class or daydreamed away.

the one thing he could admit he failed at as a human (albeit a ‘special’ human) was socialization.

yeah, riki had basically no friends and he embraced it.

he sat in the back of the class, spoke a total of four words per day, and occasionally messed around. if he really felt like it, he would put in his earbuds and listen to his mixtape like an angsty teen before going home for the day.

all day. all week. on repeat.

if his mother was ever concerned and asked, his rationale would be that riki simply didn’t trust other people. he forced himself to stop caring about and looking at everyone’s red string and soulmates, or anything related.

yet he still had to deal with strangers confronting him and asking who their soulmate was. it was all random people to him, mostly. so who knew what would happen if he became friends with someone, just to discover they used him to find out their soulmate?

even years later, his theory is proven to be accurate.

why, riki internally sighs, do people think they can get whatever they want, whenever they want?

the two girls in front of him, he finally spares them a glance. he just wanted to call it a day, go home and watch some anime or something, not have two random girls pounce on him after school. he barely manages to keep his mouth shut.

“so,” one of them says, arms crossed and eyebrow raised, “can you tell us who our soulmates are?”

which obviously translates to: tell us now or you’ll suffer the consequences.

he takes out an earbud nonchalantly, a blank expression on his face.

“no thanks.”

she takes a step closer, and his eye twitches. “but you can.”

her eyes glare into his, and her friend does the same.

“i can, but will i?” riki asks sarcastically, annoyance beginning to reach its limit. when one of them grabs his shoulder, he starts to panic.

“get your hand off me.” his voice is cold.

“or what?” they mock.

riki grits his teeth, attempting to cool down. he can’t fight back—not just because he doesn’t want to hit them, but because it’ll attract unnecessary attention and that’s the last thing he needs.

the girls giggle that same annoying high pitched sound, although it’s not a blissful or joyful one, it sounds more like a warning with a malicious edge to it.

“oh come on, won’t you be nice to us girls? we’ll let you-“

one hand reaches out and he dodges so quickly they have to pause for a second.

“don’t touch me,” riki puffs out, barely keeping it together.

“i said-“

“how many times does he have to tell you two to leave him alone?”

that was the first time.

the very first time riki ever laid eyes on you, and the very first time his eyes didn’t immediately fall to your hand and red string.

they scowl, about to retort when you shrug uninterestedly, revealing your phone camera pointing straight at them. “i can just report you guys for bullying, you know, or like harassment.”

their eyes widen, before flashing you that look- the one blatantly showing that they just cursed at you silently- before furiously stalking off.

silence follows as you put your phone away and riki collects himself.

you turn to him, voice and expression softer than earlier.

“you good?”

riki shrugs, about to turn away.

“w-wait!” you call out hesitantly. he stops, on the verge of leaving regardless of what you have to say.

“uh, don’t worry. i didn’t actually record anything, just made it look like i did.”

you inhale, trying your best to ignore the awkward atmosphere. “i think we have some classes together? my name’s y/n.”

his eyes flick to yours for a split second before looking away. riki barely nods, putting his earbud back in.

you clear your throat. “and yours is?”

you can barely hear his quiet mutter of an answer before he walks off, leaving you alone in the hallway. you already knew what it was, you just wanted to hear his voice at least once. but his answer leaves you frowning (wondering if you didn’t hear him properly or didn’t clean your own ears properly.)

riki, you contemplate thoughtfully.

regardless of if he was niki or riki, it sounded nicer coming from himself than it did from others.

surprisingly enough, he runs into you again the next day. or not really, you sort of just found your way towards him in the back of the classroom and plopped your stuff down right beside riki.

he didn’t notice you because of his earbuds in until you tap his shoulder, sending a small smile. riki stays emotionless, acknowledging your presence with a quick glance over.

he can’t count the amount of times you attempted at keeping up conversation before giving up. riki would later regret the short, blunt answers he always gave in return. but it baffled him, how you would never mention the red strings or anything related.

you talked about normal things like a normal person, and like riki was a normal person. it was weird how he could learn so much about you based on what you said in a day.

like how you would complain about the astounding amount of homework but always did it all on time and aced every single test. or when you said you were starving but during lunch he would catch you giving your packed lunch to your other friends who were just as hungry as you.

even how you would never fail to greet and sit next to riki, and randomly mutter under your breath for no reason.

he didn’t understand you and how pervasive you were. when he’s a hard concrete wall and you’re still pounding at it every single time. but deep down, he never failed to see your lively soul.

riki’s encountered so many different people with differing intentions, and yet you stand out. he just can’t figure you out.

you pass him the paper for attendance one day and he mutters a small thanks. you practically do a double take, staring at him for a good five seconds before beaming down at your paper. riki doesn’t miss that, either.

he doesn’t know how it happens. you talk to him, and he feels himself responding before he can realize it. you never once mentioned the words red string or soulmate ever. perhaps that was what led him to feel a bit more safe around you. maybe his guard was never let down completely, but you certainly had some effect on him.

maybe, you two became friends. although riki didn’t even know what friends even were. even the school picked up on it quite easily. one of the most brilliant kids in the grade hanging with the outcast- the weird kid who never said a word.

riki doesn’t understand. you have your own friends–he assumes. why even bother with him?

you start sitting next to him at lunch, for crying out loud.

not that he minded, it was actually nice to sit next to someone and not an empty chair or desk.

“hey,” you plop down next to riki, stuffing a grape into your mouth. “what’d you get on the test?”

he looks up. “which one?”

you sigh, taking out a binder.

“history.”

riki takes out an earbud, blinking. “78. you?”

you tsk while popping another grape into your mouth. “i thought our study session was helpful. i got a 97.”

he scoffs, nothing your displeased expression. “you’re smart. you should be happy.”

you raise your eyebrows, ready to retort.

“ you’re smart too, nishimura riki.”

“-if you stopped watching anime all day.”

you just barely manage to dodge the flying grape aimed at you.

you take the seat next to him, taking out one of his earbuds with an intent expression. riki looks up at the loss of sound in his left ear, eyebrows furrowed to object. he stops when he sees you.

“you wanna hang out after class?”

“no.”

you pout. “why not?”

he shrugs. “ask my mom.”

“i personally think she would be ecstatic with you going out instead of staying cooped up inside all day.”

he has to stay silent at that.

triumphant, you pack up your stuff, not bothering to wait for his answer. “five pm at the gates.”

he shows up. riki wasn’t that big of a jerk (at least he thinks so).

he did again when you invited him out after that. and again, and again.

even when you both start adding more and more layers to your everyday outfits, nothing changes. even when exams started and the pink blossoms began falling from the trees.

it’s like one second you were having one sided conversations and the next thing you know, you’re laying down next to each other in the grass during your lunch break.

“so you literally just see the strings?”

oh, yeah.

that was one of the things about you that made riki dumbfounded. at first, you didn’t say a single word about his ability. but as riki let his guard down and opened up more, he realized it was because you actually had no clue. somehow all the rumors that were spread about him never reached you. but once you found out, you did not stop asking questions. countless questions about his “really, really cool superpower” as you deemed it.

“yeah. i see it.”

“everyday? all the time?��

he shoots you a look. “no, i can just sneeze and it’ll turn off.”

“really?”

“no, stupid.”

you huff, hands behind your head as you turn to glance at him and he averts his gaze quickly from your face.

“that’s cool. but you probably wish you could turn it off, right?”

all the time, he thinks bitterly. maybe even permanently.

“can you touch them?”

“i told you already that i can’t!” he shifts, “besides, why would i want to—everyone would just be staring at me like i was a psycho if they just saw me creepily petting the air or whatever.”

he watches your reaction, seeing the corners of your mouth tilt up as you imagine it, and it makes his as well. there’s something satisfying about seeing your reaction that makes him unable to resist.

you abruptly stop, murmuring, “we’re friends, right?”

he pauses, swallowing. “uh, sure. what makes you ask that?” quickly, you shake your head. “oh no, i just never asked you before. wanted confirmation.”

“your only friend, right?” you add jokingly, and he elbows your side.

“i’m kidding-“

“...but i like that,” you add quietly.

a petal flutters down from the tree above you, landing in your hair. you don’t notice as you’re distracted, but riki does. as you start to speak again, he lifts a hand and delicately picks it out. you stop mid sentence as riki watches you gently.

he swallows, and you quickly clear your throat.

it was true. suddenly, riki’s quite glad that he didn’t know who your—his only friend—soulmate was. why, he’s not sure. all riki knows is that he doesn’t want to find out who your soulmate is.

and he’d never admit it, but it was probably (definitely) fear. fear at who your string was connected to. why?

he had no clue and that scared him even more.

riki’s pulled along by your surprisingly strong grip, weaving through corridors and into an empty classroom. a couple of students stare as you two pass by, apparently still not over the fact that you and riki could be friends—let alone be in the same room.

panting, you shut the door and lock it, but stay close to watch out through the window quietly. riki notices your hand still tightly intertwined with his but he decides to keep quiet.

“what’s going on?” he whispers. your gaze breaks away from the window in order to reply to him. “this guy keeps following me-i’m pretty sure it’s the one who left the confession note in my locker and won’t leave me alone during the periods i don’t have with you.”

“someone likes you?” he asks incredulously, and you slap a hand over his mouth, shushing him fiercely as you continue your patrol from inside the classroom.

his insides suddenly feel unpleasant. it’s already uncomfortable and stuffy enough in the room, being squished next to you behind the door so no one- well, apparently this annoying guy who’s stalking you- can find your whereabouts. he doesn’t know who this person is, but he doesn’t like it. not one bit.

suddenly, there’s a voice coming from outside, one asking for the location of you. a couple of female ones answer, and riki figures they must belong to the girls from earlier who saw you guys pass by.

you gasp, and riki feels your grip tighten. you pull him in closer so you’re practically squished together against the door, breaths held as quietly as possible.

it takes everything in him not to squirm as riki waits, he fears you can hear the sound of his heart pounding.

two… three… five minutes pass. only when you hear complete silence do you release him. flustered, riki pulls away, attempting to fix his wrinkled uniform so you don’t notice his reaction.

it must’ve been a clear success, as you only heave a sigh of relief and flash a mischievous grin towards riki.

“i think we’re good, let’s get out of here!”

you don’t make any leeway for him, escaping past the door and out the classroom without a sound.

riki pauses, taking a second to catch his breath. the past few seconds of your close proximity replay in his mind. he shakes it off, brushing the weird sensation in his gut.

still, he wonders if there was any chance you felt that too. or was it just him?

you throw your arm around riki, sporting a grin with a creepy similarity to that of the cheshire cat’s. he flinches at your action, almost cursing in the middle of the crowd of students. “what do you want?”

by this point, finally after two years, most people had gotten used to the sight of the two of you. all the gossip and whispers behind your back flew over his head—and it had never bothered you in the first place.

you stifle a laugh. “no need to be so grumpy. come on, follow me.” you weave through the hallway of crowded kids and riki struggles to keep up, puzzled.

he follows you to the somewhat empty courtyard, sitting down on a nice patch of grass as you wait for him to get settled. “why did you take me out here?”

you roll your eyes, “patient as ever, nishimura riki.” you dig through your messy school bag before your eyes light up.

“close your eyes,” you order.

he does as you say, no questions asked. riki feels a delicate sensation on his wrist—at this point he can recognize your warmth pretty easily.

“all done.”

he cautiously peeks his eyes open only to see you staring expectantly back at him. soon, his gaze falls down to where he felt your light touch before.

a simple, silver chain wraps around his thin wrist.

pretty.

confused, riki furrows his eyebrows, meeting your eyes that glimmer with a strange compassion.

you hold up your own hand with a cute smile that makes his heart pound, displaying a matching bracelet—identical to his.

“it’s not much but, happy birthday, riki.”

to think that he himself didn’t even remember his own birthday. you beam at him, and he feels his ears grow red.

“do you like it?”

“y-yeah,” he mumbles and you nod in satisfaction. “good, because i spent my own money out of my pocket for it. it wasn’t cheap, you know.”

his eyes widen and you press your lips together. “in exchange, you have to promise me something.”

under the peacefully swaying trees, under the warm sunlight and buzzing spring, he realizes he could promise you anything.

you hold out your left pinky. “you’ll stick by my side no matter what. promise me that.”

he opens his mouth to speak but you’re faster, raising your other pointer finger to cover his lips. “just promise me or else i’ll take away your gift.”

your childlike orbs envelop him, full of life and sincerity—he knows he’ll never forget that day.

nor when his own pinky reaches up to link with yours.

riki remembers the day as clear as a fresh glass of water, a still puddle of rain that collected after the summer thunderstorms.

you met up with him in first period as you usually did, ruffling his hair with an easy grin as he grumbles (albeit with an affectionate look that you failed to notice).

class continued on normally, somewhat rowdy as always before the teacher came in. you get up to grab something on the floor, hair falling into your eyes. as usual, riki watches over you before spotting your foot catching on one of the chair’s legs. he quickly shouts out a warning, grabbing your wrist in order to balance you as your head whips up.

he catches you, staring at you in concern and making sure you’re alright. you stare at him in shock, flustered and without a response. he chides you with a roll of his eyes, mumbling something about how clumsy you always were and how he always had to watch out for you.

you can’t seem to form any words, so you just snatch your arm back and sit down. riki wordlessly offers a earbud to you, and you accept it with a smile. it’s something you got used to doing, sharing music and playlists with each other.

even as others made fun of you for doing supposedly cheesy couple things, you ignored them. but it did make you wonder. did you and riki seem like a couple? were you?

you guys were young, you had all of high school still to get through together.

what did it mean?

your thoughts get interrupted by the teacher opening the door. everyone settles down, attention focusing.

but today, it was different. it wasn’t just your teacher walking in.

there was an addition. an addition that came in the form of a handsome looking boy, around the same age as you guys.

the teacher introduces him as a transfer student. yang jungwon, he smiles and riki swears people swoon. everyone’s attention is on him, even yours is as you all study him curiously.

riki swore he was past all that looking at people’s soulmate strings and connections. it had been so long since he tried to put two and two together. it was a whole invasion of privacy, and he simply didn’t want to bother himself with other people’s affairs and relations.

but once he saw that new kid step into the room, riki can only focus on his hand, the first thing that came into his view.

and like it was in slow motion, he follows the tiny red string on his pinky down the row of desks to someone sitting a few inches away from riki himself, obviously not paying attention and oblivious to everything while listening to a shared earbud— you.

he almost thinks his eyes are fooling him. it was barely connected by that thin, cursed string. and that’s when it really hits him.

that string was connected to yours.

that string meant your soulmate just walked into the classroom—

and it certainly wasn’t riki.

“jungwon’s really cool. did you know he did taekwondo since he was….”

riki ignores the chatter in the halls as he walks by, brooding as always. but this week was a bit harsher. probably, no, definitely because of the new student jungwon.

ever since he joined your class, people had been talking about him nonstop. it seemed like jungwon was one of the popular kids now, without even doing anything. riki didn’t get what was so cool about him, anyway.

sure he was “cute” and had a kind personality. sure he was incredibly smart and well spoken. that’s all riki had heard the past week from everyone else gossiping in awe.

he turns up the volume on his phone, scoffing. what are they, his fans?

riki wasn’t sure what to do with the newfound information about your soulmate. he didn’t really want to think about it, his first instinct was to look for you in his next period for some cheering up. but when he walks into the classroom, he doesn’t expect to see aforementioned person talking to you, an animated look on his face.

jungwon gestures grandly, probably telling some super cool story from all his achievements. you seem pretty invested, watching with big eyes and occasionally laughing.

riki feels desperation and anger swirl in the pit of his stomach. even worse, he feels loneliness. something he hasn’t felt for a long time blooms inside—something he hasn’t felt since he met you.

what is he supposed to do now that you’ve found your soulmate? or rather, riki has?

you thought everything was fine. everything seemed fine. after the new guy joined your class, riki acted a little weird the first couple of days but he returned to normal soon after. you figured it was because of his normally shy personality. it took you a (long) while for him to warm up to too, after all.

but what you didn’t expect was for him to almost launch a full on investigation. on the new kid jungwon, strangely enough.

you frown. “he’s nice? why are you asking me this? it’s not like we’re friends or anything.”

sure, jungwon talked to you unexpectedly a couple of times, but he was very popular and did that to many people. it wasn’t like he was targeting you or anything like that. or so that’s what you believed.

but it didn’t stop there. in the few classes you shared with the two boys, whenever jungwon would start up a friendly conversation with you, you could feel riki staring holes into your back. and whenever riki made a dumb joke in the middle of class and you flicked him playfully, you swore you caught jungwon’s eye on more than one occasion.

you brushed it off, but one day it was suddenly no longer a matter of trivial things.

usually it was just you and riki at your lunch table, and it had been that way for a while. your friends opted to stay away from him, and you shrugged it off. it was their loss, not yours.

so when jungwon and his group of popular kids approached you and riki, jungwon taking the seat next to you while riki visibly tensed, you figured something was up. you could hear the onslaught of whispers from surrounding tables.

jungwon, the ideal student, joining you and the weird outcast riki?

from then on, the changes were too drastic to ignore. hanging out with just riki, you knew he was obviously bothered but wouldn’t tell you about it. it was visible that he had a clear disdain for jungwon, but would never verbally express it as much as you tried to get it out of him. it was an unreachable part of him, although you thought you had worked hard to get past that secretive, closed off part of him.

worse was jungwon sitting next to you various times in class and making too much conversation for you to ignore (although you really tried to show you weren’t interested in talking the whole time). all while riki stared forward with an unreadable expression, music practically on full blast.

you didn’t know what was going on, and you didn’t know the situation—how to get a grasp on it. you especially didn’t know the occasional looks the two boys would give each other, and how things would change so soon.

all you knew was that it happened one gloomy day, nearing the end of the school year.

you had just finished an exam in science and went looking for riki to walk home together, as you did every day when school ended. when he wasn’t anywhere to be found, you asked around.

most answers came in the form of shrugs, however a couple of classmates recalled seeing him with another group of kids.

you frowned—what reason would riki have to go off with some other people? perhaps you heard the mention of jungwon’s name but you were too preoccupied with finding riki to really pay attention.

before you could get far, you were welcomed into a strange atmosphere when you reached the courtyard. students whispering and gossiping with a variety of expressions present. your heart began to race as you look around. where is he?

you figure you must’ve missed something as the crowd eventually disperses and you get no answers. perhaps riki had a schedule after school and forgot to tell you?

you could’ve sworn you heard someone say jungwon’s name again, but this time along with riki’s name. you brush it off though as you needed to get home before it started to rain—you could feel it in the air.

so you send riki a quick message before starting on the journey home.

the next morning, you checked your phone to find no response. weird.

either way, you had no time to question it as you were already late to class, so you quickly slip in to the seat next to your classmate. your eyes don’t fail to see riki and jungwon’s empty seats.

you nudge haerin sitting next to you. “do you know where niki is? i haven’t seen him since lunch yesterday and he hasn’t responded to any of my texts.”

her eyes widen as she places a hand on your shoulder.

“y/n….you haven’t heard?”

your eyebrows furrow, “heard what? what’s going on?”

the next thing you remember, is your heart dropping.

“niki’s leaving.”

riki…leaving you?

“what do you mean?”

her eyes soften, and you begin to despise the pity on her face. “he’s leaving the school. no one knows why but-“

you zone out after that.

your best friend transferring schools—moving away for some unexplained reason?

no one at school says anything, and you feel like everyone’s keeping you out of the loop on purpose. you hate the feeling that you’re missing a huge piece of the puzzle.

with no explanation, with no answer from his number (no matter how many times you tried calling), riki disappears in the blink of an eye. it’s as if he never existed in the first place.

rumors follow but you know better than to listen to them. all you found out was apparently something happened that day—you suspect, no you know, between riki and jungwon—and the damned result was riki leaving your school.

he never mentioned anything about moving, as far as you knew. he never acted like anything was wrong either. it had to have been something from that day. or maybe not.

at this point, you didn’t know what to believe. you had just lost your closest friend, your study-slash-lunch-slash-everything buddy, and your number one support.

and somehow everything was supposed to go back to normal. everyone continues on normally, including jungwon.

everyone except you.

he’s gone and he left you alone.

as if you ever hoped to see him again.

iii. welcome to the world.

you exhale, smoothing out your wrinkled outfit for the tenth time. you chide yourself internally, why were you so nervous?

it was just an internship. your first day, too. only recently did you graduate high school yourself.

it was just the first day of your newly acquired internship and yet you were nervous for it at a new company in a new city. it was your choice to relocate to a new area for new beginnings and new memories.

to be quite frank, you had no clue what you were doing. why did you even decide to focus on photography? you most definitely didn’t have much experience, only starting the hobby when you graduated high school. maybe you wanted a chance to take your mind off life and see things in a new light. a second chance.

maybe photos didn’t make you feel as alone.

shivering, you shake your head to clear free of thoughts. time to get this over with. the oh so dreaded first day.

before leaving, you don’t forget to leave some food for the stray cat outside your place. you then get up with a satisfied grunt and make your way to the bus stop.

however, your new boss was kind and understanding of your nervousness. you visited the company a couple times before, but never enough to get familiar with the layout and other photographers due to obtaining the internship so suddenly. you didn’t expect to get it either, not as a young, inexperienced student almost fresh out of college. either luck was on your side or your talent seemed to shine through.

it was strange to be in such a different environment than from what you grew up in. supportive, encouraging people all highly invested and passionate in their jobs.

you set up everything in your assigned desk and wait for further instruction.

your boss had showed you around and gotten you used to the daily activities of those working at a photography company, making your transition much smoother.

the whole experience was a little too easy, making you feel so much lighter. you could feel it. things were good- perhaps too good to be true.

“isn’t the first day always the best?” mr. lee, your boss, speaks up.

you quickly nod. “so far, it’s been really good. i was just wondering what my job was actually going to be for the next few months.”

he claps his hands together, almost startling you.

“of course—i like your attentiveness! you’ll be working under one of our best, accompanying him on his work and assisting with whatever he needs to get a feel for what we do here. we can meet him now if you’d like?” his question causes you to pause.

“of course.” you wonder who this ‘he’ was, apparently being one of the best.

a sudden wave of nervousness hits you. all the doubts and fears start to rise, so you swallow and try your best to suppress it.

why did you have such a bad feeling?

as your boss leads you down the offices and desks, you nod enthusiastically and laugh at his remarks as you make your way to the stairway. you go up, about to reach the top step when you spot someone coming down, their faculty name tag flashing in the light. you just barely steal a glimpse of the name, of the face of the person moving.

it’s foreign yet familiar at the same time.

you pause. his face…

you doubt you heard mr lee’s sudden hearty welcome to said person, turning to introduce you with a bright smile. a smile that doesn’t know anything.

“ha, what a coincidence. this is miss y/l/n! you still haven’t met one of our most talented photographers, have you?”

that’s when it hits you.

you feel like everything’s occurring in slow motion, mr. lee’s lips moving slowly, the person’s unreadable expression morphing as you both come to a realization.

“this is our very own best nishimura. nishimura riki.”

your heart drops. no.

it’s not. it can’t be.

why does it feel like the world just crashed down around you? why is it suddenly so hard to breathe? your eyes can’t leave those familiar ones, the same ones that have haunted you ever since that day.

those eyes that fill with recognition at the sight of you, you’re sure of it.

and then, everything is set into motion once more. you blink quickly, several times, exhaling as you try to readjust.

“nice to meet you,” you quickly bow while avoiding his gaze. this actually can’t be.

“you’ll be working with him for the-“

you mutter some lame excuse of needing to go to the restroom before dashing up the rest of the stairs to the nearest safe room, ignoring your boss’s surprised voice.

once you find the restroom, you find the sink and turn on the water. you scrub and scrub your hands before staring at yourself in the mirror.

not after all this time-

not after he left you, he can’t just suddenly appear again. did you just imagine him?

you still can’t believe it, almost refuse to believe it. nishimura riki, after 10 or so years, appears in the flesh right before you. you had long given up on trying to find him. and here he is, working at the same place as you.

he exists, perfectly alive and well without you.

it was just too much. riki was all grown up. he really looked the same, just much, much taller and more grown up in his professional attire. you weren’t used to it. or the fact that, he came back.

unless he never really left.

all those years in middle school and high school you tried to forget come rushing back. the rumors that followed your footsteps, the questions never answered. all those years of pain and loneliness, and confusion-

staying up so many nights pondering what you did that made him run away, leave you when he promised he would be there. after all that time wondering and wondering why and how and what you did. and what could’ve been done.

maybe you were being dramatic but it doesn’t change the fact that he left without a word, and with no contact for you to keep in touch. no attempt at all.

you were so hurt, so closed off now. you convinced yourself that you never cared to see his face again, but what were you supposed to do when riki shows up again, unannounced in front of you like nothing ever happened?

was there even anything left between you two?

you decided early on that your best course of action was to pretend that you never knew him. riki was a complete stranger, and it wasn’t truly a lie. it had been so long since you last saw him.

but you know that won’t work forever. especially not when he was the one you were working under.

you didn’t know what to call him, how to call him. mr. nishimura sounded way too formal especially considering your history, and riki was obviously off limits.

the next day, you stand in front of his desk with your hands clasped together in front of you like a scolded child in front of the principal. you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“so…uh, i guess you’ll be working with me for the next couple of months?”

you barely nod, shifting in your position uncomfortably. instead, your eyes fall on the pictures scattered around the walls in riki’s office.

“i’ve never had an intern before, so-“

you interrupt him impatiently while still avoiding eye contact.

“just tell me what you need me to do, mr. nishimura.”

you could visibly see the both of you cringe at that.

“-please.” you add pitifully as an afterthought.

noticing your coldness, riki must have enough common sense to give you some papers to file and chart.

what a wonderful first day.

you would describe your present relationship with riki as a very formal (and strained) senior-junior one. besides your daily task of avoiding your own mentor as much as possible, you rather enjoyed the work. so far, getting to learn the true process behind taking photos was something you never experienced.

and seeing riki in his element, with his raw talent and skill was another thing in itself. it was a lot to process, seeing an entirely different, mature riki.

you were a little too sad that you missed his growing up.

in the break room one morning, you sip peacefully on your freshly made coffee. it was a nice day, at least you believed so until you heard the door open, signaling the entrance of another person.

you’re about to greet them politely until you realize who exactly it was. you swallow a little too harshly, tensing as the person approached you.

“if you’ll excuse me,” you mutter while slipping past him. riki stands there, unmoving as he watches your figure leave.

it had been like that since the first day when he was reintroduced to you. dry to no responses, indifferent gaze, not a single glimpse into you. into the you that he knew, or once knew.

it was like he was the one talking to a built up wall, unable to do any damage. it’s almost funny how it’s like your positions from back then were switched.

he figured your cold and unapproachable demeanor was only to him—understandably. there was a lot you must’ve been feeling, as well as he. it was a long journey with a lot of baggage riki was still carrying.

still, he sees you with some of the other interns, smiling and laughing as you once did with him. as he stares at you from afar (hopefully not in a stalkerish way), riki realizes that you still have the same laugh, same smile, same attentive expression when someone calls your name.

and yet, you’re so different. you’re so far away from him.

as time goes on, you realize you can’t act like a little kid for the rest of your life. well, for the rest of the time you had this internship (and currently you didn’t have any plans to resign, especially since you literally just started).

during the lunch break, you don’t expect the seat next to you to be taken. you stiffen once you realize who it is—his presence was so familiar that you didn’t even have to take a glance to see who it was.

you start to rise from your seat, but a hand clasps gently around your arm. you freeze.

“y/n,” he starts quietly. you shiver at the sound of his voice, recognizable yet unrecognizable at the same time. you feel like you can’t breathe.

“please. not now.”

with that, you stalk away, meanwhile your eyes fly across the room to ensure no one saw your interaction.

how much longer could you keep doing this?

the more you see him, the more you can’t ignore the fact that you really, really did miss him. it’s like nothing changed—except for his appearance—and you couldn’t suppress the amount of relief you had at the realization that riki was still riki, after all.

he was still the same boy you shared earbuds with back then, at least in your eyes.

you want to know how he’s been. what he’s done, how he came back, how he became the person he is today.

on the other hand, riki realizes the complete transformation you’ve undergone.

the first conversation he had with you after oh so many years, you merely handed him his coffee with a short nod. his attempt to bring up the weather, school, anything just to talk to you again, obviously fell short.

riki’s strategy? give you your space and time. of course he respected that, and maybe you noticed because it seemed to weaken the intimidating barrier from before.

after that, you acknowledged him, greeted him (albeit shortly) every morning—riki even noticed you watching him edit some photos although you thought he couldn’t see you.

while you would never admit it, riki looked pretty cool teaching you his tips and tricks. you didn’t realize how much his job suited him and how lucky his company was to have acquired such a talented, soulful person as a photographer.

you can tell, riki wants to get talk to you so badly, but in fear of getting hurt again, you push him away. it’s hard, when all you can do is expect him to vanish without another trace again.

as you finish touchups on the last photo, you sigh and rub your eyes. things were different now. no point in wondering what could have been.

you walk out into the hallway, wishing to get some coffee to power through those last edits. but you soon stop in your tracks.

“y-y/n.”

your eyes lower to the floor, acknowledging him with a nod. “hey.”

“are you going to the break room?”

you nod again.

“then…” he hits you with those hopeful eyes and you curse internally. “can i come with?”

a surprisingly comfortable silence fills the air, along with the soothing smell of coffee.

riki comments on your more compliant and meek nature—it’s certainly supposed to be a joke but you take it the wrong way.

you frown. “i’ve changed, riki.”

he falters. maybe he’s done too much, too soon.

“i’ve grown up. just like you have. we both have, so maybe you should accept me now like i have to you.”

you turn to leave but he grabs your wrist.

“please. i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that. i know i’m in no position to say this, but i thought we were doing okay. i really want to be friends with you again—truly.”

you sigh audibly. there really was no value in being awkward with him for your time here. at least if you tried to maintain an amicable relationship, you wouldn’t have to make up dumb excuses every time you saw him. and if you got closer again, perhaps you could figure out after all this time why he left.

even more importantly, why he came back.

“could we please start over?” his voice is the softest you’ve ever heard it (and much deeper than you were used to).

you wait two, three seconds before turning around,

and sticking your hand out.

“nice to meet you,” you introduce yourself. you watch the smile start to grow on his face.

“i’m nishimura riki, and it’s very nice to meet you too.”

riki sighs, clicking the red x button in the corner. he finished his last portfolio with you as his assistant. it was only a matter of hours, or minutes, before he was assigned his next project. he turns off the light and closes the door behind his office, only to be greeted by your figure.

an eyebrow of his raises. “were you waiting for me?”

you scoff, casually kicking the ground with your shoe while looking off into the distance. “no.”

“well, i was,” you glance at him abruptly in surprise, “let’s go.”

“huh?”

he shrugs, “we finished and everyone else is gone.”

you didn’t expect riki to be so… enthusiastic about it. it as in hanging out together, as friends again.

maybe, you always knew in the end you had to give in. there was no way you could keep up this act against riki. it had always been like that.

if anyone saw you two out now they would probably assume you were two college kids on a date.

wait- date?

“-y/n?”

you glance up, startled. “yeah?”

riki frowns, sipping his boba. “are you okay? you seemed distracted. what were you thinking about?”

you shake your head with a sheepish laugh, “nothing. sorry.”

you wondered how you got to this point.

meeting riki outside of work and hoping you don’t run into any of your co-workers. honestly, it was fun to have a friend to talk with—it was fun to have riki next to you again.

your teenage self would have been dumbfounded.

while you had this time with him, you could finally ask some things you were curious about.

“riki,” you start off and he tries his best to keep calm. it was the first time you had called him by his first name in years. he missed it dearly.

“how did you get into photography?”

he knows what you meant to ask. how did you get here?

he falls back into his chair, staring up at the ceiling. you know just know riki too well, simply waiting patiently for him to take his time.

“i don’t know, to be honest. i always felt different from everyone else.” he pauses and looks at you, “you knew that the best.”

“i wanted to study people more. so i started taking pictures of others. now i just specialize in photographing more important people, like models and idols. i still don’t know how i got here though. that’s the truth.”

“you’re really good,” you say lamely. “you’re very talented and i’m jealous, to be frank.”

you see his ears turn red as he coughs shyly.

“thank you. i guess it’s what i’m best at.”

that wasn’t the exact answer you were expecting, but you took it. soon, you promised yourself, you would uncover the truth.

iv. cupid’s attack.

you like to think that you and riki get into a good groove at work.

you can’t help but burst out laughing, and riki almost stops in his tracks.

he realizes that sweet and soulful sound was just as he last remembered it. it almost makes him shiver. yes, not everything changed about you.

he knows. it can’t last forever—this push and pull relationship. plus, your budding relationship has to result in an explanation. you deserve it at the very least.

as much as riki wanted to keep it hidden, secrets can’t always stay secrets forever. he can’t protect you from everything in this world, his selfish wants can’t always be kept.

as the two of you joke around, various other workers stare at you in envy. somehow, you got to work with the mysterious yet talented riki. the one who got hired out of the blue and somehow rose to the top. no one could deny his skill.

his intimidating and mysterious aura haunted the office for some time. that is, until you came. the way he treated you was shocking to say the least. it seemed like you two were in your own world. there was definitely something, and everyone could see that.

“sorry to interrupt,” another intern speaks up shyly, but the boss wanted me to tell you guys that the party starts at 8.”

“party?” you turn to riki with a perplexed expression.

“ah, i forgot to mention. we have an office dinner party to celebrate the new interns and their hard work.” riki nudges you with a glint as your eyes widen.

“that includes you.”

you weren’t the partying type—if that wasn’t obvious enough. especially not one out of the blue, one not meant for you.

you shift uncomfortably at the large dinner table. riki ended up sitting next to you somehow. you like to think he did it on purpose, knowing you weren’t the type to enjoy socializing in large groups (and neither was he). but little did you know, he came for you.

only you.

everyone was urging you guys to drink, as it was custom to do so at office parties. but you had a limit, so when you get up to leave, making some lame excuse about having more work to finish up at home, riki immediately gets up as well. all eyes fall on you two, and you awkwardly take your leave with a tipsy riki in tow.

“yeah, it’s definitely time to get you home.”

with a rather embarrassing grunt and help from fellow co-workers, you manage to get a grip around riki’s shoulders.

once you make it out of the restaurant however, you realize that you indeed have no clue where riki lives.

“riki,” you start off cautiously, “what’s your address?”

“there!” he points sluggishly toward a nearby barbecue place. you huff.

“seriously, riki. i need to get you home. you’re way too drunk to-“

“let’s go there,” he slurs. “i’m hungry.”

as much as you stand your ground, his incessant begging eventually gets to your head and you cave.

“fine. i’ll just order you some side dishes. then we’re actually going home.”

you can only blink at the amount of dishes on the table that riki ate alone (and the amount that was going to be charged to your card).

“riki… i think that’s enough.” you softly place a hand on his still holding the chopsticks. you mutter something along the lines of, i didn’t know you ate this much this late at night…

somehow, he manages to hear you. he sounds more sober and looks more sober as well, to your relief. “yeah, well, how do you think i got this tall?”

it’s true, you were quite shocked at how tall he got. for a second, you simply stare at him while lost in your thoughts. perhaps it was the alcohol still running in your system.

he raises an eyebrow, “what’s so interesting about me suddenly?”

you clear your throat, felling your face turn hot. “nothing.”

suddenly, it feels as if the mood has changed again. you know this is your chance, and you can’t miss it. not ever again.

“don’t you need to go home soon? would, would anyone be waiting?”

riki lets out a short laugh.

“as if. i’ve been living alone ever since i came back.”

ever since he came back.

you look down at your hands.

“why did you come back?” you whisper. and yet, he hears it again.

as he’s about to respond, you glance at him with a conflicted look. “why did you leave?”

riki inhales, placing his chopsticks on the table neatly. “i’m just… so sorry y/n, for leaving you-“

“then tell me. that’s the least you can do.”

you hate how your voice quivers at the end.

“i… it’s all my fault. i lost control. i got into a fight with yang jungwon.”

you try your best to keep the surprise off your face and let him continue.

“and with my reputation at the school, my parents and the principal came to the conclusion that it was best for me to leave.”

“i didn’t know that it meant going overseas,” he quickly adds, “but i had no choice as a teenager. i could only listen to my parents and when i got the chance, i came back as soon as i could.”

you almost forgot about his so called ability. but it didn’t even matter at this point. you had countless questions, but it seemed like riki was still holding back. there was something he didn’t want to tell you, something he didn’t want you to know.

you were somewhat satisfied with his answers, but something was still bothering you.

you can feel his eyes on you, waiting for some sort of response.

“i see… but why didn’t you come find me?” you voice cracks. “why didn’t you make any effort at all to see me again? because so far, it seems like you were pretty okay with me not knowing that you still existed.”

what you really meant to say was,

you seemed perfectly fine without me. you seemed perfectly fine while i was still hurting after all this time.

“even more,” you continue on, “after you came back all this time.”

riki shakes his head, “i was looking for you.”

you falter at that.

“i always was, even in another country far away. i had to get a new phone and lost your number and all contact. but when i was finally able to come back to our hometown, you were gone. i was able to get a job at our current company due to my parents connections, and i was going to use that money to pay for travel expenses. just to find you.”

“i swear y/n,” and you almost tear up at the sincerity in his eyes, “i would never abandon you.”

“just like i promised all those years ago.”

his voice grows soft, “i always wondered what happened after i left. what you were up to. i imagined you being super successful while doing something you love.”

you laugh in order to lighten up the heavy mood, “as you can see now, that’s certainly not the case. i actually have no clue what i’m doing with my life.”

“you’re- you’re not with anyone or anything?”

you shoot him a baffled look, “what in the world? i can’t even take care of myself, let alone another person.”

you’re so shocked at the question that you miss riki’s subtle sigh of relief. you hadn’t gotten with jungwon— at least not yet, he thinks.

“then, what was high school like? you know, without me?”

you shake your head, not willing to think about those times.

“lonely, obviously, without you,” you grumble.

you had some friends still, but they weren’t riki. they never would be and could never replace him.

you decide to not mention jungwon and the short period of time after riki’s leaving in which he tried to hang out with you. most definitely not after learning what riki told you.

it was weird even to you, how such a popular guy like yang jungwon wanted to hang out with you for some time. but he soon gave up, whether it was because of all the other students noticing and gossiping or because of your moody brooding over the loss of riki.

“that’s all?”

you nod shortly. “i graduated, became interested in photography, and applied for this internship. end of story.”

you shake your head, “i just don’t know how we both got here at the same company, at the same time. man, i was even chosen to work for you of all people.”

riki’s smile grows–

“it’s like it was fate,” you murmur absentmindedly.

–and it immediately drops at that.

“can you still see people’s red strings?” of course, you had to bring that topic up at this time.

“yeah. but i’m done with all that soulmate connection strings and stuff. i just ignore it now.”

you obviously see his change in demeanor at the topic.

“that’s good. it obviously doesn’t affect your photography. i didn’t know how talented you were.”

although so many people had told him that before, it was different hearing it from you. he blames his face flushing on the alcohol, not your compliment.

“t-thanks. you are too. i can see your potential.”

you cock your head, “really? aren’t you just saying that because i’m working with you?”

he shakes his head vehemently.

“of course not. i think you’re one of the most special people in the world. you would be good at anything you want to do, because that’s just you y/n.”

you cough at the sudden change in the air. you don’t think you can handle his endless complimenting.

“thank you riki, really. but are you done eating? i think we should head out.”

you leave with not just your stomachs fuller, but your mind and heart as well.

other nights were spent staying up at the office, finishing edits and cuts. those were the best nights though, in your opinion.

you got the best advice and the best late night talks with riki—he really felt like a leader now. it made you realize how grown up he became.

“i still have the bracelet you gave me. i keep it on my desk just so i don’t lose it.”

your mouth drops open, “ no way? the one i gave you in middle school?” he nods and you internally shudder while thinking about what happened to yours.

“i hate to break it to you, riki, but i actually lost mine..”

–which translated to i threw mine away out of anger and sadness. but you figured you could keep that a secret for the time being.

“it’s fine. i’ll just get us new matching ones.” riki swears he never will forget the satisfied smile on your face, eyes twinkling and nose scrunching.

that was it. riki really tried.

he tried his best, but he can’t help falling in love with you.

he can’t even tell if you like him back or if you’re just being kind, because you are originally just a kind and beautiful soul.

he likes you too much it hurts, but he can’t be hurt again. he doesn’t want to be.

he doesn’t want to tell you about all the secret pictures he would snap of you instead of the actual model that he was working with. the amount of time and effort put into his hidden collection of you. it was one of his works that he was the most proudest of. one that he would cherish forever.

he didn’t even know when he realized it— that riki loved you. perhaps it was the countless hours spent up at night thinking about you, all alone.

but loving you came easily and naturally. red string or not, niki would love you endlessly no matter what. and whatever happened in the end, he would only want happiness for you.

occasionally he would wonder why he had to go through all that testing when he was young, why he had to go thought that entire, torturous and isolating experience.

but then he thinks about you and how without being stuck in the lab for however many years, he would have never met you in the conditions that you met in. you would have never gotten the chance to save him from those bullies if he had gone to school at a normal age and been like all the other kids.

everything that happened to riki, it was to bring him to you. for some reason, he’s sure of it.

even with all that—the feelings and acceptance and denial— riki tries his best to suppress his feelings and just enjoy being with you again. just to make up for lost time, he reasons.

he knew you two weren’t soulmates, he saw it once more the supposedly fated day he met you again for the second time.

still, he doesn’t think he could be with anyone else but you. riki knows in his heart you’re the only one for him. he stares at his own red string leading off into the unknown distance. even if the universe said otherwise.

even if the universe said otherwise, he didn’t want to lose you again.

the vip landyards you got for entering the venue backstage weren’t vip after all.

one good thing about riki’s job was the free access to public events, obviously to capture the best photos. but on this occasion, you two were denied access for no particular reason.

no matter how much riki demanded, the even taller and intimidating body guards wouldn’t budge.

“it’s fine,” you place a hand on riki’s shoulder to calm him. “we can just go through the front. i bet someone will be willing to listen to us there.”

you know riki wants to argue more but you give him a look and he concedes.

the crowd was wilder than you thought though. mainly due to it being some group called oncolon or whatever performing. navigating through the huge crowd, riki suddenly takes your hand tightly.

you almost trip over some person’s foot, glancing at him with wide eyes and a slight blush. he doesn’t say a single word.

you’re sure you’ve gotten knocked and pushed several times in the wild crowd. you try your best to keep up, but at some point, too many bodies separate you and riki.

a rather hard shove causes you to lose your balance, falling onto the ground (with a painful jolt up your butt).

all you can hear is the booming music for a moment and the flashing lights, until a hand suddenly reaches through. you almost don’t notice it at first until you hear your name being called.

suddenly you’re being pulled up forward, into sturdy arms.

“are you okay? sorry i lost you-“

when you see that it’s riki, dark orbs filled with concerned as he speaks, you nod dumbly while zoning the rest of his words out.

you couldn’t really concentrate, not when you were trying to process the fluttering of your heart and his body oh so close to yours.

but oh no, it doesn’t stop there.

it was rather sudden—you called riki over to your desk to ask for his opinion some time later.

“should i lower the exposure more? i know you were going for a darker look since it fits the concept-?”

what you don’t expect is him to lean a little too close to comfort over you and your desk to reach the computer. even more, you don’t expect his hand to cover yours over the mouse as he clicks a few things.

all you do is hold your breath but you can still smell him faintly, a comforting and familiar scent. your eyes almost flutter shut.

suppressed feelings are coming back. coming back to haunt you for good.

it does indeed feel a little too good to be true. you feel so giddy around riki, like a high schooler experiencing their first love. but you never got to.

it felt like you were getting to reexperience your teenage years properly with riki—how it should’ve gone. but it’s a little different. it feels a little too different. you want to blame it on the fact that you guys are older and you overthink things, but the feelings and emotions inside you say otherwise.

v. the thin line between love and hate.

you startle at the sudden coffee placed in front of you, by a bashful riki.

“hm? what’s this for?”

he scratches the back of his head, “you’ve been working so hard lately, too much for an intern. i don’t want to be known as the guy who overworks the newbies.”

the warming of your heart falls flat.

“ha ha ha,” you laugh dryly. “thank you though.”

before he leaves you to continue your work, he adds, “don’t forget to eat too. i brought some lunch for you in the fridge.”

you don’t fight off the dumb smile on your face when you open the community fridge to see a packaged lunch with a sticky note on top reading,

y/n’s only!! no touching!! (please and thank you)

in someone’s very familiar handwriting that hadn’t changed at all since middle school.

still, you don’t know how you haven’t gotten fired yet. you tried your best to maintain a professional relationship at work, yet the amount of jokes and ridiculous faces riki made was going to be the death of you.

he manages to get a choked sound out of you as you put your head down in an attempt to hold back your laughter. he only looks on proudly when you try your best to chide him.

“focus, riki!”

“how can i focus when his feet smell from across the roo-“

you place a finger over his soft lips, eyes raising from them to his innocent (yet deadly) looking gaze.

“stop disturbing the others!” you scold.

“i think you should tell his feet that.”

you stare at each other blankly for a second or two, your eyes flicking to the man’s shoes across the room, before you both can’t help but bursting into a silent fit of laughter.

meanwhile everyone else looks on, confused but starting to get used to the two of you at this point.

as riki admires your face full of glee, he thinks there couldn’t have been anything better.

maybe he should’ve known the universe wouldn’t let him off that easy.

you’re on the way home from work when you receive a message from riki. he asks for you to stop by the store to grab him ice cream, and you roll your eyes.

you already knew what that meant. anime night at riki’s place although his deadline was the next day.

when he sends the begging emojis, you sigh and change routes to the nearest mart. you couldn’t resist him, even if you wanted to.

you’re browsing the aisles, adding more and more snacks that you really didn’t need but you knew would make riki (and by default—you) happy.

as you reach for the bungeobbang snack, you don’t notice the hand that grabs it at the same time. a shock courses through you for a split second, and you pull your hand back.

“sorry…”

you glance at the figure. and you cock your head.

a distinct pair of eyes blink back at you.

wait a second…

“no way. yang jungwon?”

his mouth drops open. “y/n? it’s been years!”

you nod, almost laughing at the complete turn of events. “i can’t believe it either. what are you doing here?”

it turns out jungwon was in town for work, as per a client's request. he had also grown up a lot and changed much more than you expected.

he was still the same, handsome and charming jungwon. but he had definitely matured and you found yourself enjoying the catching-up talk with him. to the point where you lost track of time.

only was it until you see riki’s name light up your phone do you remember. you scramble to get your things (and probably melted ice cream).

“sorry jungwon, i have to get going.”

he gets up to help you gather your things. you can’t help but notice the warmth of his hand lingering on yours when he passes you the last grocery bag.

“it was really nice to see you again. do you maybe want to keep in touch?”

you only nod at his hopeful eyes. “of course! we can exchange numbers and meet up again while you’re still here.”

feeling strangely light on your way to riki’s place, the guilt hits you when you are greeted by riki’s worried face.

“what took so long?”

you think about jungwon and cringe internally. you don’t think you have the heart to tell riki. not today.

-Is what you keep telling yourself. days, and days after that first encounter. you just don’t know how to bring it up to riki, or when. after everything that happened,

you don’t think you can’t risk it. not when you just got your riki back.

you’re surprised at how often jungwon texts you. maybe he was still the same jungwon after all, still wanting to hang out with you all the time like back in the old days.

but this time, you had no reason to object. again, guilt washes over you as you respond to his text before looking over at a focused riki.

just once wouldn’t hurt, you manage to convince yourself.

it’s not like riki would care that much anyways. the past was the past and things were different now. why would he care if you hung out with another guy?

it’s not like he liked you… right?

you repeat that to yourself everyday. everyday that riki greets you with that adoring face of his. everyday that he teases you, makes you laugh, and helps you through all the hard times.

even the day that you thought he was going to kiss you. when he reached over you to grab the remote, but he didn’t go back to his spot. he stayed hovering over you, faces inches apart.

and he stared at you, into you, with those eyes that he always looked at you with.

yet riki didn’t do anything. he didn’t make a single move, so that means it should be fine if you met jungwon just this once?

even so, you get off work early, rushing to get home and prepare. you brush off riki’s reminder of him stopping by your house later to return your jacket he borrowed. how it fit him, you still don’t know.

even more you don’t know is why you feel pressured to dress up nice and prepare, just to see jungwon. it was just a simple catch up with him. it wasn’t like you were going to keep seeing him after that. it wasn’t a date of any sort…

jungwon pulls out the chair and you awkwardly sit down and thank him.

ok so maybe you should have dated in high school, just so you wouldn’t have been so clueless now.

it wasn’t a date. you know it wasn’t. and you keep repeating it to yourself.

maybe jungwon notices your stiffness, because he compliments your outfit.

“you look really nice.”

“thanks,” you smile, “so do you.”

“i didn’t know what places were good in this area, but i liked this cafe so i thought it would be a good place for us to talk!”

you’ve always admired jungwon’s thoughtfulness. or rather, been jealous. there was only one other person who could compete with him on that: nishimura riki.

again, time passes you as you spend the night with him. it’s quite dark out when you realize you should get going.

jungwon being ever the gentleman offers to walk you home. he also lends you his jacket, which you have no choice but to accept both his offers. it would end on an awkward note if you rejected him—which you didn’t want—so you decide to bear with it just this once.

jungwon was simply a cool and fun person to hang out with anyway, so you had no complaints. you trusted him naturally.

it was all fine until you reached the outside of your apartment.

you certainly weren’t expecting to see riki waiting outside your door, looking visibly and obviously upset. your feet come to a halt.

you completely forgot.

jungwon grabs your arm suddenly. “is that niki?”

you see the expression on riki’s face visibly change, and you rush to explain yourself.

“riki, please let me-“

ignoring jungwon, the coldness emanating from riki physically makes you shiver.

“we need to talk.”

you bite your lip.

“jungwon, i… think you should go.”

he complies when you ask once more, but not without a concerned request to contact him later.

even with jungwon gone, riki still looks like he’s about to get attacked, threatened and rigid.

you call out his name quietly, “can we at least go inside first?”

you reach for his hand but he pulls away before heading in. fair, you think.

“-i’m sorry i didn’t tell you earlier, but it was a sudden decision.”

“i still don’t get why you didn’t tell me,” he snaps.

you don’t like the way this is heading. and you both know where it was going to go. “it was just one small hangout, we were only catching up,” you frown.

“but you know how i feel about him! you should have told me-“

you feel your anger rise as well as you get to your feet.

“do i have an obligation to tell you? why is a fight that happened over ten years ago still such a big deal? what’s your issue with jungwon?”

you cross your arms, facing an agitated riki.

“nevermind that. why can’t you just tell me what happened back then?!”

the silence, accompanied by the sound of your mixed heavy breaths, leave you weary. you pinch the space between your eyebrows.

“riki-“ you reach out for him but he pulls away. he’s doing it once again.

it hurts more than you thought. “fine. if you’re not going to say anything, then i think you should just leave.”

and you don’t object when he listens to your suggestion, without a second glance back.

it felt like deja vu, seeing him leave just as he did before.

it’s been days since you last talked to riki, let alone spared a glance in his direction. work was awkward enough, just like it had been the first week you came.

how could your relationship turn back to strangers so suddenly? did riki not care?

if anything, he cared too much—but you would have never known.

it’s hard to work next to him, be near him without the unspoken feelings rising up. a hand brushing his when he passed you papers almost felt like it was burning you. riki noticed how you would flinch away, every time.

it didn’t matter. your internship was coming to an end, and you were already preparing yourself to leave.

maybe this was just a sign from the universe telling you that you and riki were meant to be apart. that you weren’t meant to be together after all.

you loved the area, company, office environment and just about everything else. it should’ve been perfect.

but you don’t know if you can stand working here, staying here and living here,

knowing that riki is right around the corner, carrying your heart without a second thought.

the power that he holds, the fact that he’s able to break your heart in the matter of seconds or make you smile like the happiest person in the world, it’s just too scary for you to handle.

you’re already planning to head back home and stay with your parents for a little until you get things figured out again.

you still had tickets to a small festival at the nearby plaza that you planned to go with riki, but that certainly wasn’t happening anymore.

you didn’t want the second ticket to go to waste, so in your lostness and desperation (and several rejections by coworkers), you asked jungwon. you were leaving soon and didn’t know when the next time you would see him was.

you greet him with a halfhearted smile, and he gestures for you guys to get closer to the stage to get a better view. but there’s a big crowd, and you stumble over an arm or leg or something.

for some reason, you expect him to be there and help you up. like someone else did in a strangely familiar situation.

but there’s no one. nothing except the crowd of bodies that’s starting to get a little too overwhelming.

for the first time, you wish to the universe for one thing. you wish you had riki again, with you by your side.

it’s then you realize you’ve been thinking about him the whole time. he who’s been the one always to pick you back up. he was always there for you.

you know, you need to do something before you leave. you can’t handle leaving things like this.

you plan to, however, the next day is the last day of your internship and some of the kind workers surprised the interns with a small going away party. it’s bittersweet, especially when everyone assumes you’re getting hired for an official position due to your exceptional work, and another person.

you were grateful for everyone who planned and showed up. but there was one person who didn’t that you kept looking for. everyone knows who, but no one knows why.

at the end of the day, you make your way back to riki’s office in order to pack up your stuff.

you take one last glance around the room and all of its memories. leaving this place felt like leaving riki behind as well.

you were grateful that you got the chance to see him once more. you were beginning to accept that this was the end.

putting all your stuff in boxes, you frown while wondering where your compartment desk key was. maybe riki mistakenly took yours instead of his?

you open various drawers, rummaging around. but when you get to the bottommost drawer, your heart stops.

it’s only a plain cream folder, but what’s written on it takes your breath away.

just your name.

photos and photos of you, beautifully crafted and arranged together. it’s riki’s work, you know that for sure. memories spanning your entire internship—from the first day to the last time you talked to him.

you don’t know when and how he took these photos. or when tears fell down your cheeks.

you hastily rub the wetness away, sniffling as you close the folder and continue your search. now wasn’t the time to get sentimental.

it would be alright, because you planned on finding riki the next day before you left. it was too late today, and you needed to finish packing. you just wanted one last chance to say everything you wanted to before going.

you have to because you feel it deep within, tugging at your heartstrings.

it’s about 1am when you finish packing. you don’t even want to think about the time you need to get up, nor the fact that you still had to find a way to see riki.

you zip up the last luggage when the doorbell rings. who in the world would be at your door this late? you consider grabbing some sort of weapon, but decide against it for the time being.

you nervously peek through the peephole, before throwing the door open.

“r-riki?”

you’re more shocked that he was crying than him even showing up at your place.

riki almost lunges forward, trapping you in his arms. he hiccups and you feel a pang in your chest.

“y/n- please- just please, will you forgive me?”

“what?” you breathe out. you couldn’t even process the situation.

“please. never leave me.”

“what? why would i ever?” you comfortingly bring a hand to rub his back. it takes a little bit to soothe him, and he speaks again when you feel his erratic breathing has calmed and his body relaxes.

“i’m so scared to lose you again,” he whispers shakily. you soften, pulling back to see his red eyes and nose.

“riki, please tell me what’s going on.” he knows immediately what you mean.

you reach up to wipe the corners of his eyes and the side of his face gently. he closes his eyes at the feeling, to go back into time.

honestly, he remembers that day as if it was just yesterday. it was a day that haunted him up until now.

riki always knew then. maybe you weren’t aware but he definitely was.

yang jungwon liked you. it was obvious.

riki could see it—physically too. that cursed red string mocked him everyday he saw you two in class.

riki knew jungwon could feel it too. you were too close to riki and everyone knew that. jungwon knew, and he didn’t care.

it was raining, as riki recalled many times over and over again. he was alone while waiting for you to finish class. riki was alone until jungwon and his group of friends approached him.

jungwon knew about his power. he said his father worked for the government, worked with riki. riki suddenly thought of one of the head scientists and his eyes, strikingly similar to jungwon��s.

so that was his father, he remembers thinking.

riki never liked him.

regardless, jungwon asked if riki could see your string. just like the others. riki chooses not to answer as always, but jungwon naturally got on his nerves.

riki remembers the exact words.

“if you two aren’t dating, does that mean you aren’t soulmates? you would’ve asked y/n out already if you were, am i right?”

at that, riki’s blood began to boil. but he couldn’t do anything. mainly because jungwon was right. and it infuriated riki.

jungwon laughed. “then… i can ask y/n out? since you guys aren’t soulmates?”

riki doesn’t remember the next part. maybe he blacked out or chose to erase it from his memory. but apparently, he punched jungwon. he snapped for the first time.

riki opens his eyes again slowly, seeing your heartfelt gaze on him and him only.

he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice when he speaks. it sounded too quiet. too defeated. like he was already accepting his loss.

”you’re jungwon’s soulmate. not mine.”

he glances down at your pinky. it had been a while since he saw your red string, let alone anyone else’s.

“no matter how much i wished your red string was connected to mine, it wasn’t.”

at some point, riki assumed his string had no other person it was attached to, because he had never met anyone who made him feel like how you did. no one else made him as happy, as sad, or as loved as you did.

riki knew if he had a soulmate, it would have been you and only you.

“i-i was upset when you saw jungwon again that you would fall in love with him. and leave me.”

it was a lot to process. you know and he knows. it wasn’t what you were expecting, but you were fine with that.

when you call out his name, your hands reach to the sides of his face to guide them to look at you. you take a deep breath.

“i’ve always loved you.”

and exhale.

“jungwon was never on my mind, only you’ve been. even after all this time-”

abruptly, riki reached forward to kiss you harshly and you instantly reciprocate it. your hands tighten around his neck while his come to wrap around your waist, naturally.

you just can’t seem to let each other go.

you ask jungwon to meet up with one last time before he leaves, at the same cafe he suggested last time.

you comment on the nice weather and he agrees. you fiddle with your fingers.

“this is a bit random, but do you believe in soulmates?”

jungwon looks confused but he says, “yeah. from what i’ve heard, i think so?”

your eyes narrow. “even if two people are soulmates, do you think they can love different people?”

“y/n, where is this-“

“answer the question and i’ll explain. i promise.”

he scratches his head, “i… i suppose so?”

“and if two people aren’t soulmates, do you think that they can love each other?” you continue.

“sure. but i don’t get why you’re asking-“

ignoring him, you nod thoughtfully. “okay.”

he opens his mouth to respond, but you hold up a hand.

“i just wanted to say it was nice seeing you again.”

he looks a bit surprised.

“me too. i enjoyed the time we spent together. i know that i’m leaving soon and this is a bit sudden, but do you want to see each other again-?”

you sigh, looking out the window again.

“i’m sorry, but i don’t think that’s possible. i hope the rest of your life goes well as you want it to, yang jungwon.”

he nods solemnly. “it’s because you’re with niki, right?” he smiles at your shocked expression. “i figured since he was outside your place. no harm in shooting my shot. but wow, you guys really found each other again.”

you don’t know what to say so you just nod.

“tell him that i’m sorry for what i said in the past and that i wish him the best too.” he gets up from his chair, prompting you too as well.

“we can still be friends, of course,” you rush to add.

jungwon laughs, “it’s alright. i should get over you first before considering a friendship.”

“maybe in another life. we get along too well,” you joke. he laughs too and you know it’s not forced.

“come on, i’ll walk you home.”

you stare at jungwon’s side profile during the walk, as he speaks about random topics and leads the way back.

it’s strange, imagining him as your soulmate. it was weird imagining a life with anyone else but riki. although yang jungwon may be your soulmate, he’s not the one that you want. that’s okay.

when he drops you off, riki opens the door. you’re hesitant, but you see the two give a final nod to each other. jungwon leaves without a glance back, and riki closes the door.

“how was it?”

you lean in to peck his lips. “good. better than i expected, to be honest. now can we start the movie? i was waiting for this all day.”

riki smiles as you take off your shoes and get ready for a night in with him. he glances at your matching gold chain bracelets that he bought recently, a promise for the future. just as riki wanted.

riki doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future. all he knows is that he’ll be with you forever, red string or not.

that night, he realized he couldn’t give up on you. not again. he would fight like he did before and choose his own destiny.

because the only destiny he had was one with you.

nishimura riki couldn’t see the end of his string. he probably never would. and he didn’t want to. it didn’t matter, after all. now, he looks back at your hands and imagines a perfect little knot in the middle connecting both your red strings.

and he smiles.

hi it’s jae again—thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it as i put a lot of work and effort into it (my longest one shot so far skxnksdnj so pls excuse mistakes/typos if i missed some) actually it hurt to write won as the “bad guy” but i couldn’t think of anyone else close enough to fit the role lol. anyways that’s all, just wanted to say that i’m thankful for all the love, comments, rbs, and support i receive as it keeps me going to write more. i truly do appreciate all 1.2k and more followers, see you guys again in the next works coming soon ;)

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @jungwonize @rerequire @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount @hoeshii @love-4-keum @nyanggk @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @yjjungwon

ONESHOT TAGLIST ▸ @annoyingbitch83 @rizzshimura @enhastolemyheart @naddii @st4rfiles @officiallyjaehyuns @xiaoderrrr @miercerise @jhopesucker @if-i-like-i-reblog @4imhry @1-800shutthefuckup @luvistqrzzz @asyleums

@ertekeszoi

@kflixnet send in a message to be added to the taglist!

#enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypenwriters #enhypen fluff #niki x reader #niki x you #niki fluff #niki scenarios #niki imagines #niki #enhypen niki

1K notes · View notes

cripplecharacters · 2 years ago

Text

Writing Intellectually Disabled Characters

[large text: writing intellectually disabled characters]

Something that very rarely comes up in disability media representation are intellectually disabled characters. There is very little positive representation in media in general (and basically none in media meant specifically for adults or in YA). I hope this post can maybe help someone interested in writing disabled characters understand the topic better and create something nice. This is just a collection of thoughts of only one person with mild ID (me) and I don't claim to speak for the whole community as its just my view. This post is meant to explain how some parts of ID work and make people aware of what ID is.

This post is absolutely not meant for self diagnosis (I promise you would realize before seeing a Tumblr post about it. it's a major disorder that gets most people thrown into special education).

Before: What is (and isn't) intellectual disability?

ID is a single, life-long neurodevelopment condition that affects IQ and causes problems with reasoning, problem‑solving, remembering and planning things, abstract thinking and learning. There is often delay or absence of development milestones like walking (and other kinds of movement), language and self care skills (eating, going to the bathroom, washing, getting dressed etc). Different people will struggle with different things to different degrees. I am, for example, still fully unable to do certain movements and had a lot of delay in self-care, but I had significantly less language-related delay than most of people with ID I know. Usually the more severe a person's ID is the more delay they will have.

Intellectual disability is one single condition and it doesn't make sense to call it "intellectual disabilities" (plural) or "an intellectual disability". It would be like saying "they have a Down Syndrome" or "he has autisms". The correct way would be "she has intellectual disability" or "ze is intellectually disabled".

Around 1-3% of people in the world have intellectual disability and most have mild ID (as opposed to moderate, severe, or profound). It can exist on its own without any identifiable condition or it can be a part of syndrome. There is over a thousand (ranging from very common to extremely rare) conditions that can cause ID but some of the most common are;

Down Syndrome,

Fragile X Syndrome,

Fetal Alcohol Syndrome,

Autism,

Edwards Syndrome,

DiGeorge Syndrome,

Microcephaly.

Not every condition always causes ID and you can have one of the above conditions without having ID as long as it's not necessary diagnostic criteria to be met. For example around 30% of autistic people have ID, meaning that the rest 70% doesn't. It just means that it's comorbid often enough to be counted as a major cause but still, autistic ≠ intellectually disabled most of the time.

A lot of things that cause intellectual disability also come with facial differences, epilepsy, mobility-related disabilities, sensory disabilities, and limb differences. A lot, but not all, intellectually disabled people go to special education schools.

Intellectual disability isn't the same as brain damage. Brain damage can occur at any point of a person's life while ID always starts in or before childhood.

"Can My Character Be [Blank]?"

[large text: "Can my character be [blank]?"]

The difficulty with writing characters with intellectual disability is that unlike some other things you can give your character, ID will very directly impacts how your character thinks and behaves - you can't make the whole character and then just slap the ID label on them.

Intellectually disabled people are extremely diverse in terms of personality, ability, verbality, mobility... And you need to consider those things early because deciding that your character is nonverbal and unable to use AAC might be an issue if you're already in the middle of writing a dialogue scene.

For broader context, a person with ID might be fully verbal - though they would still probably struggle with grammar, what some words mean, or with general understanding of spoken/written language to some degree. Or they could also be non-verbal. While some non-verbal ID people use AAC, it's not something that works for everyone and some people rely on completely language-less communication only. There is also the middle ground of people who are able to speak, but only in short sentences, or in a way that's not fully understandable to people who don't know them. Some might speak in second or third person.

Depending on the severity of your character's disability they will need help with different tasks. For example, I'm mildly affected and only need help with "complex" tasks like shopping or taxes or appointments, but someone who is profoundly affected will probably need 24/7 care. It's not infantilization to have your character receive the help that they need. Disabled people who get help with bathing or eating aren't "being treated like children", they just have higher support needs than me or you. In the same vein, your character isn't "mentally two years old" or "essentially a toddler", they are a twenty-, or sixteen-, or fourty five-year old who has intellectual disability. Mental age isn't real. Intellectually disabled people can drink, have sex, smoke, swear, and a bunch of other things. A thirty year old disabled person is an adult, not a child!

An important thing is that a person with ID has generally bad understanding of cause-and-effect and might not make connections between things that people without ID just instinctively understand. For example, someone could see that their coat is in a different place than they left it, but wouldn't be able to deduce that then it means that someone else moved it or it wouldn’t even occur to them as a thing that was caused by something. I think every (or at least most) ID person struggles with this to some extent. The more severe someone's disability is the less they will be able to connect usually (for example someone with profound ID might not be able to understand the connection between the light switch and the light turning off and on).

People with mild intellectual disability have the least severe problems in functioning and some are able to live independently, have a job, have kids, stuff like that.

What Tropes Should You Avoid?

[large text: what tropes should you avoid?]

The comic relief/punching bag;

The predator/stalker;

The "you could change this character into a sick dog and there wouldn't be much difference";

...and a lot more but these are the most prevalent in my experience.

Most ID characters are either grossly villainized (more often if they have also physical disabilities or facial differences) or extremely dehumanized or ridiculed, or all of the above. It's rarely actually *mentioned* for a character to be intellectually disabled, but negative "representation" usually is very clear that this who they're attempting to portray. The portrayal of a whole group of people as primarily either violent predators, pitiful tragedies or nothing more than a joke is damaging and you probably shouldn't do that. It's been done too many times already.

When those tropes aren't used the ID character is still usually at the very most a side character to the main (usually abled) character. They don't have hobbies, favorite foods, movies or music they like, love interests, friends or pets of their own and are very lucky if the author bothered to give them a last name. Of course it's not a requirement to have all of these but when there is *no* characterization in majority of disabled characters, it shows. They also usually die in some tragic way, often sacrificing themselves for the main character or just disappear in some off-the-screen circumstances. Either way, they aren't really characters, they're more like cardboard cutouts of what a character should be - the audience has no way to care for them because the author has put no care into making the character interesting or likable at all. Usually their whole and only personality and character trait is that they have intellectual disability and it's often based on what the author thinks ID is without actually doing any research.

What Terms to Use and Not Use

[large text: What Terms to Use and Not Use]

Words like: "intellectually disabled" or "with/have intellectual disability" are terms used by people with ID and generally OK to use from how much I know. I believe more people use the latter (person first language) for themselves but i know people who use both. I use the first more often but I don't mind the second. Some people have strong preference with one over the other and that needs to be respected.

Terms like:

"cursed with intellectual disability"

"mentally [R-slur]"

"moron"

"idiot"

"feeble-minded"

"imbecile"

is considered at least derogatory by most people and I don't recommend using it in your writing. The last 5 terms directly come from outdated medical terminology specifically regarding ID and aren't just "rude", they're ableist and historically connected to eugenics in the most direct way they could be. To me personally they're highly offensive and I wouldn't want to read something that referred to its character with ID with those terms.

(Note: there are, in real life, people with ID that refer to themselves with the above... but this is still just a writing guide. Unless you belong to the group i just mentioned I would advise against writing that, especially if this post is your entire research so far.)

Things I Want to See More of in Characters with Intellectual Disability

[large text: Things I Want to See More of in Characters with Intellectual Disability]

[format borrowed from WWC]

I want to see more characters with intellectual disability that...

aren’t only white boys.

are LGBT+.

are adults.

are allowed to be angry without being demonized, and sad without being infantilized.

are not described as "mentally X years old".

are respected by others.

aren't "secretly smart" or “emotionally smart”.

are able to live independently with some help.

aren't able to live independently at all and aren't mocked for that.

are in romantic relationships or have crushes (interabled... or not!).

are non-verbal or semi-verbal.

use mobility aids and/or AAC.

have hobbies they enjoy.

have caregivers.

have disabilities related to their ID.

have disabilities completely unrelated to their ID.

have friends and family who like and support them.

go on cool adventures.

are in different genres: fantasy, romComs, action, slice of life... all of them.

have their own storylines.

aren't treated as disposable.

don't die or disappear at the first possible opportunity.

...and I want to see stories that have multiple intellectually disabled characters.

I hope that this list will give someone inspiration to go and make their first OC with intellectual disability ! This is just a basic overview to motivate writers to do their own research rather than a “all-knowing post explaining everything regarding ID”. I definitely don't know everything especially about the parts of ID that I just don't experience (or not as much as others). This is only meant to be an introduction for people who don't really know what ID is or where to even start.

Talk to people with intellectual disability (you can send ask here but there are also a lot of other people on Tumblr who have ID and I know at least some have previously answered asks as well if you want someone else's opinion!), watch/read interviews with people who have ID (to start - link1, link2, both have captions) and try to rethink what you think about intellectual disability. Because it's really not that rare like a lot of people seem to think. Please listen to us when we speak.

Good luck writing and thank you for reading :-) (smile emoji)

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #writing intellectually disabled characters #neurodivergency #terminology #long post #writing advice #writing disabled characters #writeblr #writing reference #writing disability #writing tips #writing resources #writing help #intellectual disability representation

3K notes · View notes

redhoodobsessed · 6 months ago

Text

Diagnosis is...

Jason Todd x Reader

This one is kind of weird i just thought it would be funny and it spiraled from there. You meet your boyfriends family at a very bad time. TW: vomiting, Pregnancy

Jason always took you to the Manor when his family wasn't home. The only member who you were well acquainted with was Alfred and Duke. Even after being together for a year and moving with eachother he wasn't ready for you to meet his family. Truthfully he was worried they would be... too much.

Jason sat you down gently on his bed in his old bedroom.

"You really didn't need to carry me here from the cave I'm not that sick" you sighed as he tucked you into the bed.

"Sure but I wanted to." He went to kiss your lips but you pulled back

"Trust me lover boy you do not want to kiss these lips"

He chuckled and kissed you on the cheek instead "I'll be back at five ok?"

You nodded waiting for him to leave before running to his bathroom and vomiting.

After 10 minutes you went looking around. He only ever took you to the manor when no one else was around but Alfred. But this time even he wasn't here. Bruce was on some big undercover mission in another country basically the enormous amounts of people who were usually here weren't except for Jason and Duke who were taking over the nightly patrol in Gotham. This was perfect for your mission.

You searched every bathroom and medicine cabinet you could find surely in a house this big which was home to the billionaire playboy had to have at least one. You could swear you'd been looking for hours practically torn apart the entire mansion when you heard a sympathic sounding voice say. "Looking for something?"

You turned around to see a redheaded green eyed woman in a wheelchair. Barbara Gordon.

"Uh uhm Sprite?" Definitely not a great answer if you were trying to deceive a world renowned cyber detective who caught you pulling apart her boyfriends medicine cabinet. But she humored you and took you to the kitchen.

"Why sprite?" She said

"The acid from Lemons are neutralising which help relieve nausea. They give it to people in outpatient after things like wisdom tooth extraction at the hospital. Also I don't like lemonade."

"Right, Jason said you weren't feeling well. What are the symptoms?" She was absolutely probing you for information. She saw the frantically thrown about flu medicine and pain killers, you were looking for something specific.

you weren't planning on spilling everything to a complete stranger but you had to tell someone or you would probably go crazy. "Well nausea, slight headache, swollen feet and breasts, late menstruation cycle I would say patient diagnosis would be-"

"Pregnancy" she interrupted her face completely bewildered. Jason Todd got a girl pregnant.

"About 2 to 3 weeks along but I can't know for sure without-"

"A pregnancy test" she interrupted again.

"I would rather go to the Doctor and get a blood test but Jason and I just moved in together and I only realised I was late yesterday."

"We can do a blood test! Downstairs in the cave right now" Barbara immediately started heading to the elevator to the cave.

"That will take a while you don't have a regular pregnancy test here?"

She thought for a second "I don't think so."

So you went down to do the test you were surprised they had every blood test known to man "you know an at home pregnancy test only takes two minutes" you say as you draw your own blood you needed to practice anyway.

"Well we could watch a movie? It's only two hours."

"Yeah only" you sighed and Barbara finished the rest of the process now all you had to do was wait for the results. Your heart almost stopped when you heard the roar of a motorcycle enter the cave thinking it might be Jason.

"It's just the Batgirls their mission ended early." Barbara said pulling up the live security footage of the runway and leaving it up. You almost collapsed from relief.

"Hey Babs! Who's this?" The purple Batgirl said as she took off her Cowl revealing her blonde hair and chipper smile.

"I uhm I'm Y/n"

"Oh Jason's girlfriend! You're sick right?" She glanced over at the screen the blood test now almost halfway done. "What's a HCG test?"

Barbara minimised the window and looked at you as you tried to formulate a lie but it was too late. The other batgirl who must be Cassandra signed something to Stephanie.

"No way!" Her face was in utter disbelief and god you wished Jason had just left you in the apartment. This was not how you wanted to meet his family.

"It's probably nothing it could be anything really." You really wanted to believe that. You wanted to believe it was something crazy rare.

"Like what?" Stephanie said with full curiosity. She definitely didn't seem to realise the invasive nature of that question until Cassandra put a hand on her shoulder. "Right well good luck with that Cass and I are gonna train for a bit."

"Don't worry you can trust them" Barbara's words gave little comfort. Your face was red with embarrassment its not that you didn't trust them it's that you just met them. Their first impression of their brothers girlfriend is that she could be pregnant.

It wasn't long before you heard people talking from the staircase "TIMOTHY BERNIE!"Stephanie yelled "What are you doing here?!"

"Well I was showing Bernard the mansion and i thought id take him to see the cave too i need to check up on a blood test of a rat i found scarecrow experimenting on too. Hey! Are you Y/n?" Tim asked shaking your hand.

You were relieved at the fact that he would be the first family member to not also be wondering whether or not you were pregnant. "It's nice to meet you. Jason talks about you a lot."

"He talks about all of you too I think he's been a bit nervous for us to meet."

"So was Tim. I'm Bernard, Tim's boyfriend" you had been so relieved and distracted by normal conversation without any indication of any possible pregnancy that you didn't see Tim looking at the computers in the med bay.

"Uh who ordered the HCG? Was it an accident or...?"

"HCG? I meant to do a CRP! damn well now I'll know if I'm pregnant or not." At least Stephanie was good at improv

"But this says its y/n's?" Tim said skeptical of the whole situation

"What?! I must of mixed up our blood" ok so she might not win an Oscar but you could work with this.

"Oh yeah I was practicing drawing blood sometimes they have us do it on other med students and if you don't practice uh it's embarrassing." You were definitely not winning an Oscar.

"Right." He was definitely unconvinced. But his angel of a boyfriend noticed your nervous face and came to your rescue.

"Happens to the best of us." He has a very warm and comforting smile Tim has good taste in men.

As time went on your stomach started to churn and you laid back on a medical bed. There was the loud hum of a jet engine and huge doors opening up above you. "Uhh please not Bruce Wayne"

"Bruce Wayne" everyone except Bernard seemed to say in unison "and the results are in."

"I don't want to know" you didnt want this to be such a big deal you didn't want so many people to know and you certainly didn't want Jason's whole family to know before he did.

"Ah miss Y/n I see you've met more of the family" Alfred said walking down from where ever the Jet was parked above you.

"It's been a pleasure" you say truly not wanting to sound rude they had all been very kind to you their timing is just so so poor.

"Ah Jason had told me you're not feeling well. Can I bring you anything Y/n"

"Y/n?" I voice that must belong to Bruce followed behind Alfred. "Oh I didn't know you would be here" Bruce Wayne said cowl in hand his face looking tired. A young looking boy walked towards the bat computer ignoring you. honestly you were grateful for not having to meet another batfamily member.

You were trying to get up but he interrupted "no no please don't get up on my behalf rest its quite late."

You were going to respond but your stomach stirred again and a gurgle went up your throat. Bruce was quick to respond and got you a vomit bag. Great the first thing Bruce Wayne had ever heard from you was the disgusting sound of vomit. "You are quite sick" He put his hand on your forehead automatically. But there was no time to make up an excuse or reason.

"She's not sick, she's pregnant" the young and very rude boy said... definitely Damian.

"Oh uhm is uh.. when did you find out?" Bruce was extremely flustered, but by now you had experienced enough embarrassment for the night and just wanted Jason to come home.

"Just then" with the perfect timing that this family seemed to have you heard Jason and Duke ride into the cave to see an utterly confused Batman standing next to you.

"None of you are supposed to be here." Jason growled as he made his way to you he was about to glare at Bruce when he saw his bright red face he stopped "What's wrong with you?Salina break up with you again?" Jason

"Uhm" Bruce cleared his throat "you're right we're not supposed to be here. We should all go upstairs." He started heading to the stairs but everyone else seemed to be looking at you "now!" He said sternly in his Batman voice the room quickly cleared out after that.

You sighed a breath of relief as Jason sat next to you and pulled you close kissing your temple. "What was his problem?" He asked rubbing your arm and resting his head on your shoulder.

"Well I'm not technically sick."

"Hmm?" He didn't even seemed phased by this he just leaned into you more

"I had to do a test and uh everyone saw the result."

"Is it bad?" This man after a patrol you could swear his head was made of bricks.

"Depends. Do you think its bad that I'm pregnant." You said hesitantly a very small part of you worried that he would say yes but worse is he didn't say anything. "Jason?"

"Uh no!" He moved to face you his forehead pressed against yours "No it's its not bad its just its unexpected and then I'm sorry I'm sorry for all of that and them and wow"

You giggled "Yeah it's not exactly what I was expecting for tonight"

He cupped your cheek and smiled at you "I love you Y/N"

Tears started to well in your eyes "I love you too Jason" He pulled you in for a long kiss. Finally all you wanted all night was to be with him.

Upstairs Dick arrived home to...chaos. Stephanie was talking to Cass about everything they were going to do to prepare for.. something. Tim was yelling at Damian, Barbara and Bernard were telling Duke about the entire night and Bruce sat in an armchair still in complete embarrassment and disbelief.

"Did I miss something?"

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader

244 notes · View notes

becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 months ago

Note

Dear becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys ! Please suggest to your dear sister with the fibromyalgia epiphany, to pursue an Ehlers-Danlos diagnosis! Fibro symptoms are often a sign of this also-very-undiagnosed-in-women condition. (Signed, an EDS-sufferer's wife)

Yeah, she also checked that out last year, a lot of people suggested it (some got... weirdly pushy and insistent about it, and should probably examine that urge). But we're confident it's not.

Thing is, both conditions don't have firm diagnostic tests, so in both cases the game you're playing is 'Can we draw a circle around enough symptoms to say it's X condition?' In this way, it's like a physical version of neurodiversity. There's no solid answer to whether a person has autism, ADHD, dyspraxia, more than one, all, none, etc - you just have to see how many symptoms they have before they trip the diagnostic threshold.

And sometimes, you get symptoms (or, in the case of neurodiversity, characteristics) that apply to more than one category. Time-blindness is common to ADHD, dyspraxia, dyslexia, and dyscalculia, and there's growing evidence that temporal perception is atypical in autistic people; Executive dysfunction is common for all five; etc.

EDS and fibro have similar crossover symptoms, but also plenty that don't. Last year we went through every description we could find for every type of EDS we could find, but ultimately, the only EDS symptoms she had were the crossover ones. The ones that were specifically fibro, she has. The ones that were specifically EDS, she doesn't. Plus, there's no equivalent family symptoms in parents or grandparents, plus a whole bunch of other variables that I obviously haven't spelled out in a short Tumblr post but we who have been there for 41 years of her life (well; I'm younger than her, but eh) know about.

So we're confident it's fibro and not EDS. But, it kind of doesn't matter in one sense - there's no actual treatment anyway, so management now becomes Whatever Works. If that means using some techniques common to both conditions, then who cares what the name is? As long as it works.

However, I shall leave this here in case anyone else wants to consider EDS for themselves! It's always worth exploring.

#asks #fibromyalgia

74 notes · View notes

brf-rumortrackinganon · 2 months ago

Note

What I don't think I've said before is that my agency is a law enforcement agency and we do similar investigations to this

I work on the side of law firms coming in to do internal investigations - particularly in the UK. You obviously know what you’re talking about, but I just want to reaffirm for the anon and other readers that it’ll take months.

Organisations sometimes unknowingly open Pandoras box when they start an investigation like this, because all kinds of misconduct they had not known about must now also be dealt with. That makes the deadlines even more squishy.

Would love to have your take on the national security aspects to the PoW’s diagnosis and continued treatment. I bet H&M is going to want to find out more information too, which fits in nicely on your recent posts around him being a security risk (I’m the Pegasus anon and highly enjoyed them).

Very old ask from March 22nd.

So now knowing that Kate actually did have cancer, was seriously ill, and was also downplaying her diagnosis and condition, that changes my thinking a little.

I do think one of the reasons they've been very careful with Kate's diagnosis and treatment is because of the national security impact. For instance, if Kate's actual treatment was publicly known - she goes to chemo on these days, she's being treated at this hospital, her drugs are X, Y, Z - then a bad actor or a threat can absolutely do some damage. They can taint the medical supply, they can call paparazzi to the hospital, they can sneak cameras into the treatment center, they can stage an emergency that takes resources away from the oncology unit.

If the type of cancer Kate had or the chemo treatment she was undergoing meant she needed to be a on a specific diet and if that was known, then obviously someone could try to send her a tainted gift basket or they have a spoiled product that they give to a known Wales associate (like a Turnip Toff or a Middleton friend) and they pass it on to Kate (which is how Pippa used to merch sometimes, in early Cambridge days) who doesn't suspect anything because that person is cleared by RPOs. And this is something that the BRF is actually concerned about - I read somewhere once that they don't accept food products or food gifts and if any is given to them on walkabout or engagements, it's immediately tossed.

Now let's think about that hack/unauthorized access to Kate's medical files back in March. What could someone do with that information? Well, aside from her diagnosis, her symptoms, her treatment plan, they could learn who her doctors and care team are and go after them - stalk them, harass them, blackmail them, endanger their families, etc. They might also learn where Kate's pharmacy is or other private medical information like maybe if she had any miscarriages, what other medications she might be on, what her allergies are, her parents' medical history, etc. and all of that is something that a bad actor can exploit to their advantage, everything from exposing Kate to her allergen to killing her doctor and assuming their identity to treat her.

Not to mention the fact that anyone who goes through a major operation like Kate did in January and who goes through chemo becomes incredibly immunocompromised. All they have to do is get someone with COVID or a flu or shingles or some other kind of biotoxin or contagious illness next to Kate and her condition worsens.

(Just a quick aside her to remind everyone that someone who's immunocompromised from chemo the way Kate is isn't going to be frolicking in the woods with people who aren't in her bubble. Michael and Carole are in the video because they're in Kate's health bubble. Charles and Camilla aren't in the video because they aren't in Kate's bubble and they're not in Kate's bubble because Charles has his own bubble because he's also immunocompromised from his own cancer and his own treatment and no one wants to risk Charles or Kate getting worse because of something "crossing over" from one person's treatment into the other's.)

And what happens if you take Kate out of the picture? We're not killing her here - we're just saying she becomes incapacitated or sidelined in some way. But take Kate out of the picture, now all of a sudden you have the entire future of the monarchy at risk. William becomes vulnerable. George becomes vulnerable. Charlotte and Louis become vulnerable. We're not talking about their physical security or their physical well-being here; we're talking about their mental and emotional health and as we've seen in Harry, that -- in the hands of the wrong person -- becomes incredibly dangerous. And since William is the next king and George the future king, that 100% is a matter of national security.

It is all farfetched, it does sound Bondian, but that's what national security is. It's considering every single possibility that could happen, assessing how likely it could happen and what kind of impact would come from it happening, and mitigating as much of that as possible.

So how do you mitigate the threat to national security posed by Kate's health crisis? You don't tell anyone the specifics. You keep it private. You downplay it to the best of your abilities.

Now, specific to the Sussexes, and why William and Kate (or even the RPOs or even the BRF) wouldn't want them to know the whole truth of her condition and health, it's absolutely all the shadiness that the Sussexes are involved with. There's rumors of Russian support. We know they have microphones and Netflix cameras with them all the time. We know that the Sussexes are boundary-stomping privacy invaders who blab about every tiny morsel of information they get - or don't get. We know that the Sussexes want to be King and Queen of people's hearts, King and Queen of culture, and the actual King and Queen of the UK, the realms, and the Commonwealth.

If something happens to Kate, then Harry and Meghan aren't even waiting in the wings; they're already running on stage with their plastic crowns. And I think they know that, because without Kate, William's attention turns 100% to the children, which leaves an opening for Charles to bring Harry back and we know that Harry won't come back without Meghan. So if Harry and Meghan are both back, then they become even bigger red flags to the monarchy and the BRF because they're also bringing the damage of the last 5 years - grudges from 2018/2019, the alleged Russian supporters, Oprah, Netflix cameras, Sussex Squad, all their crony kiss-ass reporters, etc. Bad, bad, bad news all around. You might as well turn the Buckingham Palace throne room into a gift shop now because the second Harry and Meghan are back in, they're selling the monachy to the highest bidder - but will it be Oprah? Will it be Netflix? Will it be any Russians? Will it be Nacho? Will it be QVC and the Home Shopping Network? Will it be Penguin Random House?

So not telling Harry and Meghan anything about what Kate's doing isn't just national security best practices; it's complete and total self-preservation of the monarchy for George. Because if Meghan was able to do that to Harry, imagine what she and Harry can both do to William and George together when William and George's world has been totally rocked and shattered.

Edit: added some clarification. I mention COVID here as an example of someone with an illness who could seriously worsen an immunocompromised person's health. I'm not debating COVID vaccinations, protocols, or precautions and any more comments/replies about COVID will be removed.

#brf #waleses #national security #you might've seen my ramblings on this in other blogs as “national security anon”

84 notes · View notes

garciaasfluffypen · 2 months ago

Text

things are changing (and only for the better)

pairing: jemily x adhd!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: dialouge heavy, alcohol use, discussions of ethical non-monagamy/polyamory a/n: please please PLEASE tell me if i get anything about polyamory wrong in this series. i myself am not polyamorous, and i want to do this justice. if i'm doing anything wrong or harmful in my writing please let me know.

it had been weeks since you had a girls night with emily and jj, and you were thanking all the gods out there that you finally got to have one.

the team had been whisked off on three back to back cases, leaving everyone begging for the weekend off. once it was granted, the first text you got before you even left the office was a message from jj stating “our house, wine, 30 minutes?” with an outstanding “YES PLEASE!!” being sent back within seconds of receiving the text from your favorite blonde. emily and jj had been amazing to you since figuring out about your adhd diagnosis, and knew how deliberating it could be if you weren’t on your medication. the inattentiveness had been your downfall multiple times, but your team knew how to accommodate you and make sure all of your needs were met to ensure you could work at your full capacity. specifically jj and emily.

being on the medication around the team was very important to you. it was something you had been weary of, keeping them from seeing your adhd funks. it still was something you didn’t want to subject them too just yet. despite being on the team for a few years and being friends with them for longer, you had done a good job at keeping the full nature of your funks away from the team and frankly… you wanted to keep it that way. the only person who had seen you in your funk so far was hotch, but that was because you had fallen asleep at the office on a thursday night and didn’t get the chance to pick up your meds on the way home from work. and besides, you didn’t want to hear it from them, about how stupid you were for not taking your medication when you relied on it to keep your brain from shutting down. it had happened before, you forgot your meds at your apartment and had a date that ultimately ended up in you staying at your exes place. when you woke up the next morning and realized, they were upset when they realized you would be in one of your funks and practically shoved you out the door.

you’d hate yourself if you lost emily and jj like that.

you shook yourself out of your thoughts and grabbed the fruit platter you had picked up from sam’s club on the way to the house, heading over to the side door that you knew led straight to the kitchen. emily and jj were quietly talking to themselves by the counter, sending a wave of worry through you. they couldn’t be talking about you, right? they invited you over, they wanted you here, they--

“y/n!” jj’s eyes lit up as she saw you, coming over and pulling you in for a hug. “i was starting to think you didn’t want to come.”

“i wanted to get the fruit platter you guys like.” you sheepishly replied, a red hue covering your cheeks. “i felt bad coming empty handed.”

“you know you don’t have to bring us anything, lovey.”

your heart jolted as emily called you lovey, the nickname naturally falling out of her lips. lovey… you liked that.

“i know, but i wanted to.” you shrugged. “it's the least i can do for all you’ve done with me the past couple weeks.”

“you having proper accommodations is important, y/n. we want you to be comfortable.”

you smiled at the brunette. “it means a lot to me, really, and i never really properly thanked you for being so attentive to everything.”

jj came to squeeze your hand. “you don’t need to thank us. just being here is more than enough.”

the blush found it's way back to your cheeks as you looked down, barely registering the look emily and jj shared before you felt a finger under your chin, lifting it to make you look into emily’s eyes. that was something new, something she had never done with you before.

and you… liked it?

“what were you feeling for dinner?”

“i’m not super picky,” you paused. “on nights like these i typically do something easy like mac and cheese or ramen or something but we don’t have to do that if you guys want something else.”

emily chuckled, a loving glint in her eye. “if you want mac and cheese, we can get mac and cheese.”

“i don’t want to make you guys special order me mac and cheese, you really don’t--”

“y/n.” jj locked eyes with you. “it’s on us tonight, promise. go put on your cozy clothes and get comfortable, yeah? we’ll get dinner set.”

“i don’t want to be a bother…”

“you’re never a bother, not to us.” jj paused. “is your rejection dysphoria acting up again?”

“a little bit.”

“do you want to talk about it?”

“can i get a glass of wine in my system before we talk about it?”

“of course. now go get cozy, i’m ready to curl up on the couch and shit talk all the stupid people we’ve run into over the past few weeks.”

jj watched you as you chuckled and sauntered off to the main room before quickly turning around and running to grab your go bag before heading back in. emily came up and wrapped her arms around jj from behind, placing her head on the blonde’s shoulder.

“y’know, this could be the last moments of us without y/n in our lives.”

“emily!” jj swatted at her arm. “don’t you dare say that.”

“i’m just saying!” emily shot jj a joking look. “considering how they reacted to the finger under the chin, i doubt that will be an issue we’ll need to worry about, though.”

“i hope so.” jj turned so she was facing emily. “i really like them, i like them a lot. and i want them to know that i can love both of you equally.”

“and we’ll explain it to them if they decide they want to be our girlfriend, yeah?” emily squeezed jj’s hands. “we’ll take it one step at a time.”

“do you think they like us?”

“i would sure hope so, or else they wouldn’t be here.” emily looked to jj. “do you think they don’t like us?”

“it’s hard to tell with them, i’ll be honest. i’m just nervous they’re going to say no and everything is going to be messed up. i don’t even know if we fully explained the polyamory thing to them.”

“i don’t think we did either, now that i’m thinking about it.” emily bit her lip. “okay so we start with that then.”

“we start with that.”

emily and jj found a restaurant with something all three of you would want before ordering, making sure it would be there in a timely manner before heading out into the living room. emily went to change into her comfy clothes first, leaving her in a pair of yale sweatpants and an old shirt of jj’s that neither of them knew the origins of. returning with the wine she had been itching to pull out all week, emily plopped herself down on the couch and handed you a glass, smiling at you fondly as you took it while you bounced a mile a minute, talking about something you had seen on tik tok on the jet earlier. jj changed into the flannel pants she had stolen from emily eons ago, a pale blue oversized t shirt sitting on her small frame. jj came and sat on the other side of you, the way the three of you typically sat during girls nights, both women giving you all the attention you could desire while on one of your tangents.

something was off, though. you could feel the vibe shift about an hour and a half into the night, your meals all discarded on the coffee table while you and emily nursed another glass of wine. jj had opted for her favorite beer at that point, the bottle opener sitting next to an empty styrofoam container with the discards of jj’s meal. your energy slowly faded as the dread started to set in, the rejection sensitive dysphoria feelings coming in full swing. you felt yourself start to get into a daze, fingers playing with the hem of your tee as you stared off into space. it took emily a minute to realize what was happening before she placed a supportive arm around you and pulled you close, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“what’s up, y/n?”

“the vibe is off.” you said, quieter than you had been the rest of the night. “something’s wrong.”

“well, we did want to tell you something.” jj started. “it’s not bad. nothing bad is happening right now, but we were holding off on telling you in case you didn’t…” she paused. “how do i say this without sounding like an asshole?”

“we’re scared that you’ll see us differently after we tell you what we want to talk to you about.”

“okay…” you looked between them, noticing genuine concern. “i’m gonna need more wine, aren’t i?”

emily chuckled, the smile you know and love crossing her features. “well, that depends on how you take what we’re about to tell you.”

“i don’t need to be scared, right?”

“not at all.” jj squeezed your hand, coming closer to you on the couch and leaning into your other side. “unless you see like a ghost or something. then you can be scared.”

you chuckled. “i doubt there’s going to be a ghost in your house, jayje.”

“you never know!” jj smiled slightly, glad that you weren’t too deep into the feeling of despair and could joke with her. “all kidding aside, are you in a mental state to have this conversation or do you want to sober up a little bit?”

“no no, i’m okay.” you nodded. “as long as i don’t stand up. that’s when it’s all going to go to my head.”

“understandable.” emily rested her cheek against the top of your head. “remember how you saw me talking to tara about that girl i saw who i wanted to get to know?”

“um.. i think so. the one from the coffee shop?”

“exactly.” emily paused. “it didn’t work out, unfortunately, but that was partially because we hadn’t even began talking about this.”

“so, as you know, we've been exploring the idea of… seeing other people.” jj piped in, pausing to pick her next words carefully. “but we never fully explained to you what we meant by that.”

“we’ve been exploring polyamory.” it was emily’s turn to pause, gauging your reaction. “the two of us, sharing another partner.”

“cool.” you smiled, relieved it wasn’t something horrible. ”have you found anyone yet?”

you could have sworn you saw both emily and jj visibly relax.

“well, thats the thing. we’re not sure if they realized they were being flirted with… or that we’re interested in them that way.”

you popped a grape in your mouth. “tell me everything, how does this work? wait! tell me about them!”

emily smiled. “well, they’re easily one of our favorite people ever.”

“have you known them long?”

“about five years, give or take. em, when did we meet them?”

“god, what was it… christmas of twenty nineteen, right?”

interesting. you met the team in twenty nineteen after penelope dragged you to a girls night just after thanksgiving. what a coincidence.

“they’ve been friends with us for a while. we’ve only recently started flirting with them about six months ago.”

jj smiled fondly. “although like em said, we can’t tell if they’ve realized we’re flirting with them yet.”

“so they’re a bit aloof. that’s charming.” you smiled at them. “i’m so glad you guys found someone, i fully thought you guys were flirting with me these past few months.”

there was an awkward pause.

“wait… why are you… am i the someone?”

emily cleared her throat, grabbing for her glass of wine. oh.

oh.

“i am the someone.”

“we like you, y/n.” jj grabbed your hand. “more than a friend. and i know that sounds weird, and you can say no- we’re not pressuring you to do anything or make any decisions tonight.”

“i…” you paused. “how did you… are you guys okay? like, relationship wise?”

“we’re more than okay, i promise.” emily squeezed your other hand.

“we’ve been talking about it, just the two of us, for a few months.” jj licked her lips. “the only other person who knows is tara, she’s gotten us in touch with a great support group that has everything we need to know about getting started.”

“both of us realized we wanted something more, but didn’t want to end things at all.” emily explained. “we figured out that both of us had too much love to share with just one person, we wanted to share it with someone else.”

“so… wait, can i ask questions?”

“of course, babe.”

“how would this work? the three of us?” you paused. “you’re… married.”

“we know it won’t be easy, since you’ll never be able to officially legally be with both of us unless some magical law goes into effect that changes the world's view on polyamory. but, it would be like any normal relationship, but you would get both myself and jj. there would be boundaries and rules, and we would talk about those only if you want to give us a shot.”

“we would want you to be as happy and relaxed and comfortable as you can be. everything is open to be talked about, especially when it comes to your comfort levels. and like we said, you can tell us to shut up whenever you want and we would.”

“and if i were to ask to kiss emily?”

“then i would say yes, do it.”

“and the same goes for jj?”

“i would want you to do what makes you the happiest.” jj kicked emily’s shin. “i mean, i’d say yes.”

“sorry i’m… i’m trying to wrap my brain around this. it’s being slow. you guys like me?”

emily chuckled. “yes, lovey. a lot.”

“more than you know.” jj nudged your shoulder lightly. “is that okay? that we both like you?”

“you know i’m queer, of course it's okay.”

“but are you okay with that?”

“why wouldn’t i be?” you looked between emily and jj. “have you gotten turned down before?”

“not in this aspect, no.” emily answered. “but yes, i have been turned down plenty of times.”

“and i dated men in my past.” jj chuckled. “do with that information what you will.”

“yeah… men are stupid.” you chuckled. “okay so, hold on. i’d be dating both of you then?”

“only if you want to.”

“we’re not pressuring you at all. you can take some time to think about it-”

“- no no, it sounds really nice. dating both of you.” you smiled. “i just never thought…”

“y/n, no matter what you think, you are loveable.” jj turned your face to look you in the eye. “you are loveable and you deserve the world.”

“and we want to give you the world.”

“we’d give you the universe, if we could.”

“so what do you need from me?”

“your word.”

jj looked at you, a stern look overtaking her features. gods, did the room just get warmer?

“you tell us yes or no, and we go from there. we don’t want you to-”

“the answer is yes.” you stumbled over your words, jj’s look affecting you more than you thought. “i’d love to be your girlfriend.”

both emily and jj let out a sigh of relief, bringing you in for a hug. it was real, it was happening. they didn’t read the situation wrong and you liked them back. you liked them back, and you said yes.

“in that case, as our girlfriend, what do you want to do?”

“can i kiss you?”

“of course you can.”

you turned to jj. “and then can i kiss you?”

“please.”

“then it's settled. i give you some smoochies, we binge ice cream and watch silly reality tv.” you smiled, nodding once. “the perfect night in.”

emily and jj chuckled at your happiness, bringing you in as close as they could muster. you turned to emily first, placing a small peck on her lips to test the water before cupping her cheek, smiling into the kiss. you then turned to jj, who simply smiled widely at you before meeting you in the middle for the kiss. while it was an interesting scenario, you found yourself feeling comfortable. you were in the arms of two of the most important people in your life, and things were going to change.

but they were changing for the better.

#oh to be loved by you (two) universe #jemily #jemily fanfiction #jemily x reader #jemily x reader fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau fanfiction #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

103 notes · View notes

w3r3theli0nshunt · 4 months ago

Text

POV: Task 141 + König finds out that you’re autistic

Task 141 + könig x autistic!reader

Okay okay a little self indulgence here. But this is also to somehow spread a positivity regarding the spectrum and also encourage people who feels insecure about being neurodivergent. This applies to anyone, not a specific gender.

And for people who don’t really relate, it’s fine. It’s normal to be different and it’s okay to be different.

There are some sexual themes here, but mostly wholesome fluff MDNI!!!!!!!!!!! - and sum angst as well

❤︎︎So here’s a lil authors note: You can still be loved and appreciated with or without the diagnosis🫶

★He’s definitely got ADHD or is at least on the spectrum, so he doesn’t judge you at all

★He’s a yapper and can’t help it, so when you tell him to stop talking so you can peacefully gather your own thoughts, he stops with a few whines along

★He’s a very touchy type and he loves touching you, and sometimes he forgets to keep distance when you tell him to stop

“Soap! Not today, please. I’ve been stressed”

“Dinnae worry, luv. I’ll try, but I cannae promise”

★He’ll be a little difficult to process your diagnosis, getting used to new habits, having to break old ones but he doesn’t really complain

★He gets really confused and stressed out not knowing what to do when you get (if) you meltdowns

★When you’re on dates, he makes sure to take you to a place that is less crowded so you don’t get stressed out

★When you feel mentally tired from socialising, he tries his best to keep distance and remain quiet so you can recover peacefully

★(If) sometimes you enjoy feeling pressure on you, it’s your way of stimming, he’ll happily lay above your body and fall asleep

★Gets really happy when you finally give him a peck or a kiss, or even a hug

★Sometimes he lets you squeeze his bicep or thigh as a way to stim, sometimes he even lets you try and braid his short Mohawk

★If you don’t like the consistency or taste of food, he’ll get you your ‘safe meal’ that he knows you like

★Sometimes you’re awfully quiet and distant, he takes it as if you’re mad at him and he tends to get worried

“I’m not mad at you if that’s what you think”

“Still cannae help it, I just dannae want ye ta leave me fer being touchy”

★He’ll steal kisses from you, making them quick so you can’t react

★He’ll miss the frequent sex like he used to have with his exes, but he’ll still love you as much.

★Not really familiar with the diagnosis, but he sure as hell do his research

★He’ll almost act like a dad would with his child, telling you to stop stimming with your hair or picking with your skin and place a fidget toy in your hand instead

★He admires your creativity, always flattered when you show off your drawing/sketches with a proud look on your face and enthusiastically explain it

★He can’t stop looking at you with such admiration when you cuddle with a pillow/squish-mallow while being focused on the tv

★He makes you write a list to him of foods you like and how you like them, just so he knows :)

★He’s a fast learner with you and knows how you work

★When you (if) get meltdowns, he knows exactly what to do. Either give you space or tightly putting pressure on your body to help calm you down

★He knows when you don’t want cuddling or sex, so he’ll back off. Just happy that you’re his

★When the places you go to are crowded, he’ll instantly take you to a calmer place

★You two usually have dates at home, but Price is good at making stuff romantic

★He’ll tell his friends about you a lot, telling them to not be too pushy or touchy

★He knows you don’t enjoy meeting new people so he’ll make sure to spare you from doing so as often as he can, but sometimes you have to and at those times he tells the people about you in first hand

“Your friends are nice, but I didn’t expect them to keep distance. Didn’t you tell me that they could be very nosy and pushy sometimes?”

“Well, this man right here turns out to be completely in love with you. And that also means that his friends are gonna have to accept my darling”

★He’s totally accepting of you and he’ll still love you just as much as before the truth came out

★Gaz is a very accepting and patient man, his feelings still stay as strong

★He also does a lot of research to try and understand you more, but also prefers when you tell him yourself as people are different and work differently

★He gets his friends to set up a romantic place that is private so that you can remain calm and relaxed not having a bunch of strangers stressing you out

★He totally understands if you don’t feel like being touched and he’ll back away until you feel like it again

★His soothing voice and compassion always manages to calm you down when (if again) you get a meltdown

“It’s alright, love. I’m here and it’s gonna be alright. Some days are bad, some are not”

“I-I love you so fucking much, man”

★He knows you love animals so he’ll always takes you to zoos, admiring you from afar as you gaze with such enthusiasm at the animals and your hands shaking by excitement and your small jumps

★When you distance yourself and talk less, he’ll always sit you down to talk because he’s worried that you’re mad at him, you’ll assure him that you just need some space and silence to recover from socialising all day, he’ll feel at ease afterwards and refuses to let you apologise for it

“I’m sorry, but I don’t feel like being intimate today”

“Don’t apologise, dear. Take your time, my arms will always be ready for you”

★He’ll happily stand behind and watch while you’re being ✨creative ✨ and he won’t stop complimenting

★Is always gentle with you, with both tone of voice and his affection, takes it slowly as he gives you time to pull away

★Doesn’t mind rewatching movies/series with you

★He’s aware of the diagnosis, knows a lot about it since he may also be on the spectrum as well

★He’ll also be very accepting, more so because he understand as well

★He’s not a very touchy and kissing, so he doesn’t have any problem with keeping a distance and giving you space

★When you have a meltdown, he just stares at you feeling immense guilt for something he didn’t do and his heart aching seeing you upset and stressed

★He doesn’t like going outside in public spaces a lot, so you usually have a date at home where he heats up your favorite meal in the microwave and pours a glass of your favorite soda

★If he spots you stimming in a way that could damage you, he stares at you with his brown eyes and say “quit it, love” before he lets you squeeze his thicc pectoral instead ;) it’s your own fault if he groans and his huge bulge poking at you

★Feels uneasy when you’re silent and distancing yourself, but he always finds a way to lurk around you, almost tip toeing around after you

★When you tell him that you want space, he gives you, but he’ll still linger around you, merely because he wants to make sure that you’re alright and also because of his own selfish reasons

★Quietly admires you when you show of your art to him, having to grab his chest later to make sure that his heart stays in there

★When you’re asleep and haven’t touched him for the whole day, he’ll indulge in his desire, so he wraps his arms gently around you and hug you for a while and then he’ll let go (after like an hour or so)

★He doesn’t really care for sex, but if you want to initiate, he’ll be a fool to decline

★He loves you way too much to just break up because of you

“How can you still wanna be with me? Don’t you want a partner who can be perfectly affectionate towards you?”

“Y/n, don’t even fuckin’ think that way. I’ll always choose you, with or without the diagnosis. And you know why? Because I fuckin’ love you”

★You say you love animals, he’ll buy you your favorite animal (as a pet, a pet friendly one……I hope)

★He has a huge understanding, mostly about the social stuff as he has the same difficulty

★His whole browser is full of ‘how does autistic people work?’ and ‘how to convince an autistic person to cuddle with me?’

“König, I don’t feel like cuddling today”

“But, liebling, how else will I show my love for you?”

★When you want space, he tries to convince you that he doesn’t wanna let go of you and that he’ll be sad if he won’t be able to see you

★Will literally get an anxiety attack being in crowded spaces, while you have to remain calm and try and drag the both of you away

★Whenever you stim, he’ll tell you to touch/squeeze him instead (sort of using it to his advantage to be touched by you)

★Will wrap his arms around and pull you tight against him in the middle of the night, instantly after you’ve falling asleep and play dumb the next morning when you ask him how you’re in his arms

★You two enthusiastically exchanges hobbies and interests

★If you’re sound sensitive, he’ll cover your ears, if you’re sensitive to specific consistencies, he’ll make mental notes to your preferences, if you’re sensitive to light, he’ll always pack a pair of sunglasses with him to give, if you feel the labels on the inside of your clothes poking your skin uncomfortably, he’ll cut them off.

★He steal kisses from you when you’re distracted or asleep

★When you’re quiet, he’ll stare at you to see every detail of your face and if it changes in the slightest, just to make sure that you’re alright

★Sometimes when you’re neutral (not feeling anything specific) he’ll assume that you’re mad at him and he’ll get extremely anxious

“Liebling, what can I do so you won’t be mad at me?! Please, i can change!”

“König, I’m not mad at you. Why would you assume that when you haven’t done anything?”

꧁✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰꧂

#ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod #cod mw2 #task force 141 #141 x reader #könig x gn reader #gaz x reader #mw2 headcanons #price x reader #soap x reader #gender neutral reader #cod headcanons #autistic reader

127 notes · View notes

chaoticbardlady99 · 1 year ago

Text

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Update- I did the thing you silly geese

https://www.tumblr.com/chaoticbardlady99/735969926279528448/i-took-all-this-love-i-found-and-i-hope-that-its

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 #karlach #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gender neutral reader #bg3 astarion #astarion acunin #mental health #actually adhd #and anxious #and depressed

332 notes · View notes

olderthannetfic · 5 months ago

Note

I like me some ND headcanons. In theory. In reality I'm annoyed how 90% of ND headcanons are Autism and ADHD which are centered around 1) Infantilizing language. It's mostly with ND headcanons that people constantly talk about the characters like they're small toddlers. I know part of fandom are pet names, and a bit of baby talk. But it feels like it's a lot more intense with ND headcanons. Admit the last point might also be because to me it feels like most people treat ND people like children, so that high level of baby talk with ND hcs does squick me out. 2) It feels like any other ND headcanons get forcefully pushed out, especially if they're not "esthetic". Some times you get a tragic PTSD hc, but most people don't like hcs centering "problematic" NDs or any of the "bad" ones. Unless it's a super evil bad person, and they can use the evil bad-coded (tm) neurodivergent diagnosis like narcissim to explain why the character is evil. 3) It feels like people are just claiming a bunch of ND symptoms to be part of Autism and ADHD exclusively, as if it was a limited resource. "No other ND conditions CANNOT have special interests, that belongs to autism and ADHD." that kinda logic. Which just feels really weird.

It's not the Autism and ADHD hc itself, it's all of the stuff mentioned above almost feeling like a obligatory add-on. Autism and ADHD are perfectly fine. B4 anyone thinks I have a specific problem with that.

I'd find these headcanons less irritating if they didn't often both contradict canon and sound nothing like the fucktons of people I know offline with diagnosis X.

57 notes · View notes

deanbrainrotwritings · 6 months ago

Text

— the politics of knife fighting

SUMMARY : tom tried to live a normal life after getting away from his hometown, but he should’ve known his little slice of heaven would go bad eventually.

PAIRING : tom hanniger x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : emmeline kipling (OFC), klaus cassidy (OMC), donald white (OMC), gilly fawkes (OFC)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, gore, blood, murder, DID (dissociative identity disorder), set after the events of MBV

WORD COUNT : 4.5k

A/N : title from jamies elsewhere song. this fills the on the run square on my @jacklesversebingo card. I listened to every MCR song to finish this 😭✋🏻

TOM’S POV

It was pretty morbid, if he thought about it too hard.

You, getting so worked up after a funeral.

To be fair, Gilly and Don weren’t even your friends anymore. In fact, there was an intense animosity between the three of you that reminded Tom of himself, Sarah, and Axel.

Except it was much more complicated than that and you weren’t interested in dating Donald. It was more… a case of unrequited love, but much darker. Donald didn’t want you to have the choice to not be with him and Gilly hated you despite not wanting to be with Donald herself.

Gilly and Don made your life hell for two whole years before he met you.

He opened his eyes, his vision blurry. His head was pounding and something warm, soft, and wet slid across his face.

He saw you, your face pinched in concern as you wiped his blood from the wounds you’d sewn up for him.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he remembered your soft voice and reassuring smile, right before he passed out again.

That was the day he found out that Harry Warden hadn’t returned to get him, Harry Warden was a part of him and had done all those horrible things. The only good thing about it was that Harry had an interest in keeping him alive and got him out of the mine before he was found and arrested.

When he came to, two days later, he was on the couch in your living room wearing new clothes—clothes Donald had left at your place and you wanted to get rid of.

You let him stay, you respected that he didn’t want to share much about himself, and you allowed him to stay in your home until he was ready to make it on his own. Despite knowing nothing about him, you took care of him. But you did also threaten him by telling him your dad was an ex-Marine. He figured that’s the reason you knew how to properly stitch up a bullet wound.

After a few months of your arrangement, his temporary stay at your home became permanent. And he went from being a stranger to being your lover.

Within months, miles away from his hometown, he finally felt like he’d established a sense of safety with you. He finally felt that his mind and his life had stabilised. The blackouts and the fear of Harry taking over his body reduced to nothing.

With your help, he was finally able to find a neurophysiologist who could treat him and help him with his condition. He confronted what was wrong with him while he was with you.

Hell, he thinks he may have matured drastically since he’s known you. He used to be so arrogant and cowardly.

You didn’t know the specifics about his past or his condition at first, but you seemed happy that he was getting help for whatever it was that was troubling him so profoundly. He started working through his trauma, who he was, what he wanted for himself—it was easier knowing you were back home waiting for him.

He was finally able to share most of his past with you. Most of it. Because he just couldn’t bring himself to tell you his diagnosis or the fact that the bunkmate in his head was a murderer.

It took a few years, but eventually, he was able to integrate those traumatic memories and he taught himself to not be afraid of Harry coming to ruin everything he’d built for himself.

He didn’t know if the medication was actually helping or if being far away from Harmony and Hanniger Mine made Harry Warden stay down and out of his way.

He only knew that he was grateful to have met you.

You were gentle and patient with him. He felt that you understood him. Profoundly. Not knowing him as he was back then and not having expectations of him like everyone else back in Harmony did, it helped, too.

He was getting to learn who he was on his own and you were part of that journey. The rediscovery of himself.

You accepted him and all that he was, but he didn’t know if you’d still love him knowing there was someone else living inside him.

He pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on you and your wandering hands, but you caught him, once again, in the middle of his thoughts.

“Tommy, you okay?” You murmured against his jaw as you worked on loosening his black tie. He felt himself get warmer the lower your hands wandered and his heart pounded loudly in his chest when you got to his belt.

He smiled at you and buried his fingers in your hair to bring you up for a slow, long kiss. He finally felt you fumble for the first time, your fingers slowed at his belt, and you moaned into his mouth softly.

“Yeah, I was thinking about you,” he reassured you when he pulled away. His hands moved out of your hair, slowly sneaked up your warm thighs, and beneath the soft black dress you wore.

You gazed into his eyes and bit your lip.

He could see your concern and your curiosity. He knew he appeared to be distracted these past couple of weeks, but especially today at the funeral for both Gilly and Donald. You asked him about it, but he would dismiss it, and you hesitantly accepted his response every time.

He dreaded the day you found out the truth about him.

But it seemed the universe believed he was asking too much for wanting to be happy with you.

He squeezed your bare hip beneath your dress, the absence of underwear excited him. You must have slipped them off in between kissing him senseless and pushing him into the couch you both currently rested on. He helped you get his belt off and kissed you passionately.

You finally conceded and cupped his face to kiss him back with as much fervour, and successfully managed to ease his mind of his concern and amend the lack of control he was starting to feel again.

READER’S POV

As you turned the corner into the street leading to your home, the sight of red and blue sirens instantly made your heart speed up.

You hoped it wasn’t your home. That Tom was okay. That nothing happened to him. But those thoughts didn’t comfort you and your breathing picked up so that you almost felt your lungs burning.

You slowed your car as you drove closer to your home, the source of police cars. Your neighbours stared at you and murmured to each other and your stomach ached, nauseous.

You parked nearby with your hands trembling and managed to get out of the car without stumbling on your weak knees. Your eyes fell to police officers standing and talking around your house, but there was no ambulance in sight.

“Please, please, please,” you murmured shakily.

You pulled the yellow tape that kept you out over your head to enter your front lawn, and looked around for Tom, but he wasn’t outside with any of the police officers.

You hoped to talk to someone who might know something. Where’s Tom?

“Miss, you’re Tom Hanniger’s girlfriend?” You recognised the woman’s voice behind you.

See, usually, you’re not one to hold a grudge if things happened before the age of 14, but Emmeline Kipling went from being your middle school bully, to a bully of a police officer. Way to beat the stereotype.

“Fiancée,” you muttered before you turned to face her. “What’s happened? Where’s Tom?”

“He’s wanted for the murder of Donald White and Gilly Fawkes,” she answered bluntly. Your mouth dropped open and you blinked at her. You shook your head and looked away from her, stared intently at your home, and wondered why or how it was possible that you could’ve missed this.

“No, he wouldn’t do that, that’s-that’s not-”

“We’ve got the evidence to back it up,” she interrupted you, laying her hand on your arm instinctively. God, can everything just stop? “We found the murder weapon and his clothes with Don and Gilly’s blood in your basement.”

Tears stung your eyes, but it wasn’t because you felt bad about what happened to Gilly and Don. They had it coming. You were afraid of what would happen to Tom if they found him. Would they shoot him on sight? Would he be sent to his death if they captured him alive?

“You’re playing detective now? I mean.. it could be… mine, for all you know,” you rambled nervously, stepping away from her touch as your knees became wobbly.

“No, it’s mining clothes in his size and we’ve taken the murder weapon to check the prints. We both know you don’t have a bone in your body that could hurt a fly,” she smiled at you, but you sensed some malice in her tone. Did she forget that you choked her for physically abusing your other friend? You wanted to do it again. Your fists clenched along with your jaw, but you stopped yourself from making a move. “Did you know about his past in Harmony? He was wanted for nine murders there… They thought he was dead… until now…” she watched you but you remained as calm as you could possibly be with the information she dumped on you. “If you know where he is, tell us… you know, this case will help me get to detective.”

You laughed in disbelief and blinked your tears away. “Well, then, I hope you don’t catch him.”

“I don’t like you either, but it doesn’t change the fact that your… fiancé is a bad person. Worst of all, a murderer.”

“He’s not a bad… He-”

“I’ve dealt with plenty of cases like these. Most people who’ve lived with evil always tell me the same thing: He never could, never would. That’s not possible. He’s so good to me. But they always find out that they’re wrong in the worst way possible. And it looks like you know nothing about Harmony. There are witnesses. He’s the guy.”

You looked around silently at your neighbours and wondered if they’d already heard about Tom. That he was a murderer. Could he be? Could he really be the one that did it?

“We’ve found an address for a cabin, Emmy,” an officer took the silence between the two of you as a go. He looked at you with empathetic eyes and a comforting smile. You tried to return it, but it was an awful lot of work, especially after hearing about your aunt’s cabin.

Tom offered to help you clean it up for her.

You hated your aunt for the way she treated your mom… but he’d been adamant about it for weeks after you vented to him about her audacity. How could she ask you for anything after the way she treated your mother?

Emmeline took the paper from the officer to read it.

You stared at the torn paper that was once stuck to your fridge with a magnet containing the location. You should’ve just put “cabin”, but Tom occasionally went alone after he convinced you to stay home and relax.

You always wondered why he was so interested in getting it cleaned for her.

“Could he be there?” Emmeline broke your train of thought. Barley.

“I… I don’t know,” you lied and shrugged. Being overwhelmed helped you cover whatever your tell was, that’s all you knew for sure. For all you know, Tom was up there…

How could he hide this from you? How could you be so blind? Were there signs that you missed? Why were you helping him?

“Let’s check it out,” she told him anyway. He nodded and paused for a moment when he looked at you, but he changed his mind and left. Emmeline did the same and followed him after shoving the piece of paper into her pocket.

“Wait!” You turned to follow her to the car her partner was getting into. “Let me come.” Emmeline turned around and hesitated. “You owe me for that fake-ass apology you gave for how cruel you were.”

“You’re not gonna let that go?” She chuckled. You narrowed your eyes.

“Don’t act like you don’t victimise yourself to this day for what I did to you after all the torture you put me through. I’ve heard plenty from your fellow officers who know better than to believe your lies…”

“Fine,” she replied begrudgingly and rolled her eyes at you. You resisted the urge to hit her with your clenched fist and opened the door to get into the back.

You had a hard time believing that Tom could actually murder Gilly and Don. He was always so gentle and loving. Soft. Quiet. Kind.

Was that only for you?

Was it an act? A cover for his real life as a murderer?

You imagined: if he did do it. Would that change anything? Would you love him less? And those people he supposedly murdered in Harmony. Were they innocent? Were you actually thinking this? You felt awful, but part of you needed to believe that he had a good reason for committing murder.

He can’t be a bad man. He can’t be.

It was hard for you to believe it. So damn hard, but you knew him. He had problems he didn’t talk about with you completely. If he had some sort of breakdown, he just needed help and you weren’t giving up on him.

You don’t know how long you were in your thoughts. Or how much time you spent thinking of a way to get Tom to safety. To think of words that would convince Tom to stand down if he was still out of his depth. Or to think of words that would convince Emmeline and her partner to stand down.

The car came to a stop as the sun began to set behind deep green trees. They reminded you of Tom’s eyes. The wheels crunched on the dirt and twigs, and then there was complete silence as Emmeline looked around from inside the car.

She was afraid.

You hoped that wouldn’t make her do something stupid that would put Tom’s life in danger.

“Stay here with her,” Emmeline told her partner after a few moments. She inhaled deeply and exhaled before opening the car.

“Um… okay?” He looked back at you, leaned forward to shout, “shouldn’t we call for backup first and wait?” Emmeline stopped for a beat or two.

“No, I don’t think he’s armed,” she reassured him. When she smiled at you, it made you nervous. Something was off…

“But you don’t actually know… that…” he trailed off after she slammed the door on him. He turned to you and you couldn’t help smiling nervously at him. He didn’t seem too bad. “I'm, uh… Klaus Cassidy,” he offered, but your mind instantly drifted off to Tom.

You didn’t trust Emmeline for a second. You could just be paranoid because she was an awful person, but you were done with making excuses for people. You had to trust your gut.

Just like you should’ve trusted your gut and done something to help Tom. He had been so jumpy, on edge, and distant ever since Gilly and Don’s death were announced on the news.

You really thought he was doing well in therapy.

“I… I need some air,” you whispered shakily.

“Yeah, okay,” Kalus frowned at you.

You stepped out of the car to breathe in the crisp air of nature. Silence. Branches. Animals in the distance. Peace and space. You couldn’t stand being trapped in the car anymore.

Klaus made his way around the car and stood close to you. Protectively. You saw his gun, his nervousness. It was a quick thought, but you knew you probably wouldn’t get another chance.

“Klaus,” you felt guilty and genuinely bad, but you needed to do something about Tom. Klaus turned to look at you and you didn’t think twice about hitting him square in the jaw like your dad taught you.

He fell to the ground and you apologised to his unconscious body. You opened the car, quickly rummaged through the glove compartment where you found some surgical gloves.

You put them on and apologised once more as you took Klaus’ gun and legged it in the direction of the cabin. You knew this place better than Emmeline did, you just hoped you’d make it to Tom before she could hurt him.

TOM’S POV

He wasn’t quite used to this sensation.

Seeing himself outside of his body, something else… someone else using it to move around, it was horrible.

He shouted, begged, and just about did everything he could think of to regain control, but Harry didn’t give his body up.

Harry didn’t speak to him.

All he could do was watch as Harry put a new disguise on. A clean, black miner’s uniform. He could smell the newness, the softener that reminded him of you. But there was the old gas mask on his face again, filled with the hellish stench of sweat, dust, dried blood, and firesmoke.

From inside the cabin, staring out the window as he cursed and swore at Harry, all he could do was watch as some police officer approached. Harry grabbed an axe he found lying around, his gloves squeaked slightly with his tightened grip.

Harry was excited at the sight of her with her gun and flashlight pointed in his direction.

We’re not immortal, dammit!

“Tom Hanniger!” She shouted at him, but Harry tilted his head indifferently. “Put the axe down or I’ll shoot you.”

She fired at the cabin, the bullet hit the wooden wall close to the window he was staring out of. He flinched, forgetting that he technically wasn’t inside the cabin.

Harry angrily put the axe in one hand and held it stiffly in the middle. He breathed through the mask, deeply inhaled, a long exhale. Completely calm, which was not the way he was feeling about adding another person to the list of people… he’s… killed.

“That was a warning shot, Tom! Put it down now, I won’t miss you next time!”

Rustling within the trees made the police officer lower her gun and turn slightly to the source. Her guard was down and he felt like he could breathe again, but unfortunately, Harry began to charge menacingly towards her.

“Klaus?” She turned her flashlight in the direction of the sound of what could only be something getting thrown onto the ground and skipping across a few times before stopping.

“Tom?”

No.

God, no, not you. Not here, not now. Not like this.

Your voice called out from a completely different direction, but he looked opposite to where the police officer faced. At least it was enough to bring him back to himself. You. Your voice calling his name.

He murmured your name and released the breath that began to make him feel lightheaded. His grip loosened on the axe, but he didn’t let go of it completely.

He could see you faintly as you stepped out from the thick trees. He stepped towards your voice and the police officer turned in your direction, sadly for her. Her gun was ready, her flashlight lit you up like the beautiful star you were.

“Tommy, please don’t make things worse for yourself. Put the axe down, please,” you tried to speak calmly, but he could hear the tremble in your voice as you walked the rest of the way towards him.

His eyes fell over your body. Your work clothes, uncomfortable heels, and surgical gloves loose on your hands. You were vulnerable, unarmed in the middle of a gunfight. The police officer lowered her gun again after a moment of hesitation as she watched the events unfold.

He’d completely forgotten that you’d eventually catch wind of it all. Of what he was accused of… of what he’d done. He just never expected you to do this, to involve yourself with his other side.

“Tom… what did you do?” You asked quietly. He could only feel the warmth of your hand seep through the glove and the mask. Your fingers gently threaded into his hair and your other hand took the axe from him.

All he could do was say your name, his voice cracked with his heart at the sight of your tears. All your dreams shattering, your hopes, your future together. From shards, to dust. Irreparable.

He felt the police officer taking his wrists carefully to place the cuffs on him. He struggled for a moment, wishing he’d gotten to touch your face one last time, to kiss you, to take the costume off and feel you for the last time.

“Don’t do that!” You tried to stop her, subsequently dropping the axe on the ground.

She relented briefly before coming to her senses. “I have to arrest him and take him in.”

You pushed her away and the cuffs fell to the ground with a clink against the axe. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hands and Tom took the chance to remove the gas mask and finally took a deep breath outside of the suffocating mask underneath it.

“Please, baby.” He grabbed your arms, hoping to calm you down, but you moved away from him.

“Don’t move, Tom!”

“God! Shut up and let me think, Em!” You shouted in frustration.

“There’s nothing to think about!” She argued with you, getting down to retrieve the cuffs, but you kicked them away. She instantly stood up straight and pulled her gun on you, cocked and ready. Tom stepped in front of you protectively. She looked between you and him for a moment, then laughed dryly. “You’re working with him! Aren’t you? Yeah! You wanted him… no, you told him to kill them for you, didn’t you?”

“What? No! That’s not true!”

“Doesn’t matter,” she smiled and shrugged. “I can just say that you admitted it. You told him to kill Gil and Don for you. Then, you attacked me once we got here. I defended myself and shot you and you died. I’ve been looking for a way to get rid of you ever since-”

You lifted Klaus’ gun and fired it, the bullet flew straight through her forehead before she could speak another word. Tom flinched and gasped in shock, he opened his eyes once her body hit the dirt.

He stared in disbelief and horror at the hole in the police officer’s forehead, the light spatter of blood from the entry wound. Her eyes were opened to the sky, dead as the stars above.

He heard you moving around him and saw you put her cuffs back in her pocket. He couldn’t believe you did that. No second thought, no hesitation. And you knew her. Em—that's what you called her.

“Tom!” You shouted at him desperately. “Come on, Tommy. We-we have to get to my dad’s place.” The tremble in your voice reminded him that you were quite shaken up after all.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore,” he commented distractedly, hoping to hide his distress. But he could tell, now that you took him by his hand, that you weren’t as put together as he imagined.

He felt the weight of the axe in his other hand and wondered how it got there. He didn’t care. He just watched you lead the way as he tried to collect himself, but he couldn’t do it without giving Harry control. He pushed away his distraught and squeezed your hand.

“Well, no, but I’m still his daughter and he’s not going to let anything bad happen to me.” He remained quiet and suddenly he stood in front of a cop car where you planted the gun on an unconscious officer.

You apologised to the man and removed your gloves, but shoved them into your dress pants. He watched you wipe your hands on your shirt as if somehow the blood got on you. You did it multiple times as you multitasked: hid your footprints and walked in the direction away from the cop car.

This was such a mess.

He didn’t want this for you.

He didn’t want this for himself.

He deflated. He let your hand go and stood a few metres away from the road, defeated. “Why are you doing this? Just leave me, I’ll-”

“I can’t!” You frowned at him and took his hand in your once more. Your beautiful wide eyes full of fear and love made his heart wrench. “Okay? I… I love you too much to just leave you alone with all of… this. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess I already did something stupid…” he murmured, dropping the axe to hold your waist and pull your body flush with his. You were also angry— it seemed, because you crossed your arms and glared at him.

“Yes! You did! You absolute… melon!” He felt bad for laughing at that, but you looked so cute when you angrily shoved him away. “God, Tommy! What were you thinking?!” You tangled your fingers in your hair, overwhelmed, frustrated, and confused.

He took your hands and brought you in for a comforting embrace, hoping to somehow calm you down. He kissed your hairline and you slowly softened in his arms. He felt you cling tightly to the back of the miner’s uniform he wore.

“You had to see them every day. After what they both did to you- I don’t know, I’m having a hard time feeling sorry that they were… that I…”

“How did this happen? Why did you do that? Tommy… you’re such an idiot,” you whispered. He pulled away just to cup your face in his calloused hands. He kissed you once, then a second time, and on the third try, you finally kissed him back.

“It wasn’t… me… it was, but it wasn’t. It’s hard to explain, actually,” he laughed wryly and breathed against your lips. You shivered and kissed him firmly. He wanted to drown in you, to be covered in your stars and your heart and your body.

His entire body lit up and turned hot like an overpowered bulb about to burst.

You pulled away from his lips just in time and he pressed his forehead against yours. “Let’s just get out of here and talk about it outside of these creepy fucking woods.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, making you way deeper into the forest. He quickly picked the axe up again and made his way to you, nervous, but ready to face whatever the future may be like on the run with you.

“It can’t be that creepy here,” he smiled hesitantly. You rolled your eyes at him about to argue your case to demonstrate why the woods were scary. “We fucked against that tree over there after you thought I got us lost.”

He pointed across to where a red ribbon was wrapped around a tree. He did that to remember you whenever or if he ever found himself in this part of the woods.

You stopped dead in your tracks with your mouth agape. He joined you and smiled shyly when you smiled at him in surprise. “Shut up,” you couldn’t help laughing.

taglist

@lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @the-achievementhunter @k-slla @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @angelbabyyy99 @kezibear @kaleldobrev @blackcherrywhiskey @dayhsdreaming @xshortputax @il0vebeingdelulu @impala1967rollingthroughtown @pasteldecrack @imsapphine @gravesphillip @illicithallways @saturnsooya

or follow @deanbrainrotlibrary for fic notifications

main masterlist

jacklesversebingo23 masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#tom hanniger #tom hanniger x reader #tom hanniger x fem!reader #my bloody valentine #mbv

129 notes · View notes