#okay I'll stop geeking out now lmao

[itneverendshere]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was supposed to be fun?

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

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

This was definitely a mistake.

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

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

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

Rafe Cameron.

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

Until now.

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

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

You blinked at him. “Me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

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

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

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

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

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

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

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

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

“So, what’s that book about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

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

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

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

What the hell had just happened?

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

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

It was Rafe.

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

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

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

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

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

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

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

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

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

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rafe, I swear—”

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

You hated every second of it.

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

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

“Stop staring.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gawked at him. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You learned that the hard way two days later.

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

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

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

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

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

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

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

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

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. No, no, no.

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

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

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

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

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

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

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

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

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think I’m lying? 

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

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

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

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

Always.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sillygoofyqueer]

The Untamed review: episode six!!!!!!

Literally have to skip the intro at this point

The Cloud Recesses looks so peaceful hehe

The goofy music, what the hell is going on

Nie Huaisang, you look so sketchy what the hell

"I brought peanuts!! ☺️" You are such a guy, Huaisang.

HE JUST GOT SNATCHED

Oh, it's fine, they're just drinking lmao

I love that even Jiang Cheng is getting involved

It also answers my question of who bought the alcohol

Fuck me, Huaisang is absolutely pissseeeddd

"I'll be fine, as long as I have wine" Wei Wuxian, you have a problem.

"I don't know how the Lan Clan puts up with you" "Hey, I'm adorable 🤭" Wei Wuxian, you little geek. Yes you are.

Don't insult Cheng's standards hahahaha

HHAHAHA THEY'RE SO PISSED

LITERALLY CALLING OUT HIS STANDARDS

AAAAAAHHHHH WANGJI

Eyo, the fuck was that position?!?!????

You know, I was wondering who would notice their literal yelling

Hahahaha, Wei Wuxian adjusting his hair and acting so casual for his boyfriend

Wangji just wants to be involved :(

They're all super none suspicious at all lmaooo

WUXIAN, WILL YOU STOP OFFERING HIM ALCOHOL???

"join us.." bro might as well have said 'kiss me now' with the pouty tone and the tug of the sleeve

I like how Wangji didn't pull back, just gay glared

"go to the punishment chamber" "what chamber??"

HUAISANG AND CHENG JUST FUCKING PASSING OUT HAHAHA

"too drunk to walk" you just want to flirt with Wangji for longer, you whore

HE'S TRYING TO STOP THEM FROM GETTING UP, THE LITTLE WAVES OF 'stay down stay down!!!'

NO WAY ARE THEY VOMITING

What's that talisman???

BRO NO WAY

I'd be furious

He looks so proud of himself hahahahaha

Why's he closing the doors??? Gay. Suspicious.

Don't you dare, WUXIAN, YOU MONSTER

Peer pressure to the extreme 😔

Wuxian looks so excited

I love how Wangji just fucking dies

Wuxian's look of absolute shock and concern

"go back to your room please" bro is so worried about him

Wangji is literally just dead, okay

Awwww, putting him to bed, what a good guy

Did he take the talisman off him?

Alcoholic, get help

YOU ARE LITERALLY A FREAK

"your headband is tilted" "TILTED?!?!"

Wangji is so drunk

Hahaha, just slapping him away

What a gay guy

Okay, what the fuck "you're gonna be alone forever" JUST YOU WAIT WUXIAN

Does Wuxian just find pleasure in bringing up parentless trauma to deal with his own parentless existence???

Stoooop, he's sobbing

I'm sobbing now

I like how Wuxian realises what he said and just starts trauma dumping. Awwwww. He's making Wangji feel better methinks.

THEY LOOK SO HAPPY!!!! STOOOOOP 🥺🥺🥺

Toasting together 😔

I wonder how Wangji's feeling with a hangover

TEA BREAK WITH THE LAN LADS

Bros are literally gossiping at this point.

Xichen has the info and looks so pretty giving it

How is Qiren more bothered about Wuxian being there

THEY'RE SLEEPING, LEAVE THEM ALONE

Shit.

HAHAHAHA WANGJI IS JUST FUCKING GOOOONE.

Wuxian trying not to laugh.

How does Qiren sound so offended, get your shit together

SNITCH!!!!!!

Kill the snitch.

They're so worried about Wangji being involved, I'm cackling

"MY BROTHER??? You sure you don't mean a different Wangji?"

I like that Wangji is so fucking ready to repent and the others are terrified

WUXIAN TRYING TO STAND UP FOR WANGJI, I'M SOBBING

He is a very troublesome young lad

DO NOT BRING HIS DEAD MOTHER INTO THIS, QIREN. I WILL SQUARE UP. I AM NOT AFRAID TO BEAT AN OLD MAN DOWN.

Back off. Don't drop lore and not be willing to speak.

OWNING UP FOR HIS MISTAKES I'M SOBBING.

Not wanting Wangji to be hurt 🥺

I'm sorry, three Hundred Vs FIFTY???

Wuxian is so scared

WHY IS WANGJI BEING PUNISHED SO MUCH, YOU BITCH.

Nah, bro is dead

Wangji takes it upright, WHAT A MANNNN

Bros already fighting.

Quit your whining, is what Yanli is saying

I love that they all freeze at the sight of Xichen, bros are terrified

Wuxian sounds so pathetic, bro can't even bow haha

Xichen coming in to save the day

XICHEN YOU'RE SUCH A SWEETHEART. IT'S BECAUSE WUXIAN STOOD UP FOR WANGJI, ISN'T IT!!!

Awww, Wuxian just wants to know about his mother

QIREN WAS CLASSMATES WITH CANGSE SANREN????

He's saying they were alike, I'm crying

Wuxian has never looked more attentive

Cheng laughing at the thought of Sanren being like Wuxian

"let's just say it was difficult for him to keep his beard looking good back then" HAHAAHAHAAAA SANREN WAS A MONSTER I LOVE HER

WEN QING!!! babes, you plot so much

Wen whatever the fuck??? That's a big power pose but you look awful

Corpses be vibing hard, me fr

QING YOU'RE SO SMART

It's so peaceful, and Wuxian looks so happy

Awe, the way Wangji is immediately stirred by Wuxian's voice!!!

And how Wuxian calls for him instantly

Bro goes right for his robes - so neat

Fit WHO SAID THAT

He literally runs to see Wangji, not being inconspicuous at all

Zewu Jun is literally shipping them, even less inconspicuous

Wangji doesn't even look surprised, he knows what Xichen is doing

AT LEAST BE NEAT, WUXIAN

He's so fucking happy, how could someone not be in love with him

Bro is just weak

LET HIM HUDDLE FOR WARMTH

Okay, you are just slandering him at this point

Love at first fight

Bro is trying to be friendly and Wangji is just not having it

THE FEAR WHEN WUXIAN STARTED UNDRESSING

Why else would he be undressing

"please don't leave me here" and Wangji just stops. Dude ain't fooling no one

"I will stop undressing" Wuxian...

Inviting him to Yunmeng and offering to pick things for him 🥺🥺 baby's first date

Wangji has never been more stoic and stubborn

Watching him waddle is so cute in the water

THE FUCK'S IN THE WATER

WEI WUXIAN GOT SNATCHED FOR REAL THIS TIME

"Where'd he go?? FUCK-"

Oooh, a caveee

I like how Wuxian is spluttering and Wangji is so calm

They're so pretty together

Wangji actually looks concerned for once, the world must be ending for him to show such emotion

Wuxian trembling in the background like a little bitch /aff

A GUQIN??? WHAT THE FUUUCKKK

Wuxian is literally just being fucking thrown around

Wangji, what the fuck is going on

Wuxian flailing in the background

PROTECTING HIS HUBBY FOR THE FIRST TIME!!! THE START OF SOMETHING GAY

The way Wuxian looks at Wangji with such gayness in his eyes

BUNNIES!!! IT'S A METAPHOR. SYMBOLISM. SOMETHING

Hahaha they have the headbands

Are these rabbits boutta attack

STOP TRYING TO GET HIS FUCKING HEADBAND. YOU SIMP.

The literal music is telling us that this is gay

Wangji flying to his boyfriend to share the headband.

Tying them together 🤭☺️

Wuxian looks so impressed (and in love)

Wuxian's giggle

Wangji doesn't want Wuxian to get hurt

RESPECT THE HEIRLOOM, WUXIAN

What is it with Wangji and dragging Wuxian around

The slutty sitting from Wuxian, respect it

WANGJI ENTERING ANOTHER STATE OF BEING.

Wuxian is sooo smart.

The fact that Wangji just stares at Wuxian until he understands what Wangji wants

Dusting off the seat lmaoo

Why is Wangji so shocked??? Bet it was his mother

WHAT'S GOING ON??? IS IT THE FUCKING BUNNIES??

Standing side by side awwww

WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?????

L-Lan Yi????? She's so pretty I'm in love

Qiren standing at the door like a worried parent and Xichen trying to soothe him 😔

THEY'RE MISSING

Don't slander Wuxian, watch it

A storm??? Looks pretty clear to me

Everyone's fucking looking now

Cheng and Yanli are so worried awhhhh

Yanli is counting on you, Cheng, don't you dare disappoint her

"I will find him and break his legs" he cares so much

Yanli my baby, BE CAREFUL

JIN ZIXUAN YOU BETTER WATCH YOURSELF. YOU EVEN SO MUCH AS TOUCH HER WRONG AND I'LL GUT YOU

Nice catch though, props to that

(DON'T YOU FREEZE ON ME)

Yanli you can do better, Qing is right there

I literally love Lan Yi, she's so awesome

HAHA Wangji just hitting him to make him bow. The little smile afterwards as well

SHE'S A BUNNY LOVER!!!

Noo, Lan Yi can't goooo, she's so badass

Wuxian is a little blunt

SHE MADE IT???? DAMN, I'M IN LOVE

Eat it. I dare you. It'd be so funny

Literally what is going on

Destiny?? For these homosexuals????

BURIAL MOUNDS LET'S GOOOOO

Xue Chonghai?? Is he related to Xue Yang??

This is so cool, LIVING PEOPLE????

Man, people are so power hungry. Greedy bastards

THE TORTOISE OF SLAUGHTER??? HAHAHAHAHA I PREFER THE DANMEI VERSION

Oh, lives taken, she's dropping lore

Evil laugh, suspicious.

She called Wuxian smart, he really is teehee

Wuxian looks so pleased, and THE SIDE EYE FROM WANGJI HAHAHAHA

Put down??? Damn

BURIAL GROUNDS WHOOP WHOOP

So they broke it into pieces.

Bro should not have overfed the Yin Iron

Such evil laughter- HOLY SHIT, BRO HAS FUCKING LOST IT. He needs to brush his damn teeth.

He wasn't wrong to be fair

I like his fucking mood swings "HAAHAHAHAHA- 😐"

Alliances whoop whoop

Ah, burying the past, that's never gone wrong

Wuxian getting told off by Wangji

Wuxian and Lan Yi are so on the same wavelength

Wuxian gasping because they are

FUCKING SEXISM BOOOOO

SHE WAS FRIENDS WITH SANREN AAAAGGHHHH

He looks so hopeful, I am sobbing. And Wangji's look towards him and the music and ehhhh I'm sobbing

LAN YI, YOU DIDN'T MEAN TO FAIL HER

Ah, she started reading. Always a bad start.

SHE FOUND IT, wasn't very well hidden then

Freezing cold. Good lore though, poetic

Wuxian slowly turning towards Wangji

She was blindsided by her naivety I'm sobbing

So fucking poetic

NO way. There's two badasses??? And Lan Yi fought Sanren?????

She just wanted to protect herrrr....lesbians

Bro flew over her, it was impossible to break her

NOOOO, HER HUBRIS

Ew blood

She can't die, she just wanted what was best for the clan!!!

She looks ill, I'm so upset right now

It still sounds so pretty, even if she's struggling

KILL IT WITH FIRE

She sacrificed herself to keep it safe 😔

THAT'S THE END OF THE EPISODE?!??!?? WHAT THE HELL????

[theironfam]

SPOILERS FOR SMH

okay okay so Jane @hotmesspepper and I just finished watching smh and it was amazing!!!!

the biggest takeaway for me from this movie was that i honestly genuinely love this kid, pete, like he’s my own flesh and blood. He’s freakishly strong yet so small, vulnerable and innocent (like when he confronts criminals, it’s ‘you’re a criminal and you’re stealing weapons and that’s bad and i must do everything in my power to stop you from doing this bad thing and possibly harming other people in the process, even if said people I’m protecting includes you’). the burden of responsibility that he puts on himself is massive for this kid - honestly some of the situations that he got into literally had me stressed TF OUT. During half of the actions sequences, I was squeezing Jane’s arm so hard, she probs has bruises!!! But despite all the gADDAMN injuries, pete still pushes through he is a hERO. legit though, any time the kid was crying or was on the verge of tears, my heart tore apart - i felt like leaping through the movie and hiding him in my purse HUGGING HIM and protecting him from all the bad things in the world TT.TT

okay so other awesome moments

- gym teacher’s quote (or something to that effect) re cap’s exercise video: ‘pretty sure he’s a war criminal now but who cares, the video’s been approved by the state(?)’

- Tony telling pete to go easy on Happy because ‘I’ve seen his ecocardiogram. It’s not that great.’

- When an automated suit which Tony is controlling wirelessly from a wedding in INDIA (LMAO WTF’S HE DOING there that made no sense) saves pete from the river, and then tony’s voice goes onto say re Pete’s suit: ‘I put everything in the suit, including this heater’ and then proceeds to dry pete’s suit then and there.

- Tony’s comment to a random person at the wedding while talking to pete, ‘sorry [dealing with a] teenager,’ like the dad that he is!!

- LMAO when flash thompson gets pissed at pete after pete initially ditched decathalon but then decided to join at the last minute ‘You can’t just ditch us then expect a welcome back,’ where immediately after their teacher goes to pete, ‘Peter! Welcome back.’

- KAREN!!!

- Karen showing Pete recorded footage of him pretending to be thor and wielding a tiny as wooden hammer, ‘It is I, Thor, son of Odin.’

- INSTANT KILL LMAOOOOO

- May and Pete having a game play for taking liz to homecoming

- Ned getting caught alone with his laptop at homecoming dance by a teacher (when he was actually being pete’s tech guy and helping him navigate through the city while pete was driving A GODDAMN CAR HE DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE), and responding with, ‘I…… was……watching….p o r n……….’  LMAOOO

- HAPPY IN THE HS BATHROOM AND THAT KID WASHING HIS HANDS FOR LIKE FIVE WHOLE HOURS INTERRUPTING HIM while he was thanking peter

- the press conference with 50 reporters!!!!

- PEPPER POTTS

- PEPP ER  MO THER EFFING P OTTS

- ANGEL OF MY HEART

- MY QUEEN

- MY DAUGHTER IN LAW

- MY SON’S WIFE

- ACTUALLY POSSIBLY LITERALLY IS MY SON’S WIFE

- HAPPY WITH THE GODDAMN RING HE’S BEEN CARRYING FOR EIGHT YEARS I AM DEADDDDDDDDDDDDD

- IRONFAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[nrth-wind-a]

✿ (@ Tim?)

5 + 1s: ✿ - five times my muse almost texted yours, and the one time they did II Accepting

Folder: The Inertia Files… Access Granted.

File 1: First Contact

January 30th: Text Received: “Guess who?” Attached: [An image of a blond with Bart’s face]

It wasn’t hard to guess.

Text Sent: “Inertia. How did you get this phone number?”

Text Received: “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

There was a middle finger emoji at the end. No text was sent back.

Tim sighed, setting down his cell. So Inertia had his phone number, now. And not one of his burner numbers, at that—he had his actual, personal phone number.

Very few people in hero circles, and even fewer in villain circles, had that number, so he could only guess how Inertia had gotten it. He had a few theories, ranging from something normal like, he asked the right person for it, all the way to, he hacked Tim’s cell just to be a dick. The problem was that the extreme theory was just as viable as the mundane—and, frankly, in their lives, he’d probably believe the more incredible idea faster.

At any rate, he had it now, and Tim really didn’t want to go through the steps of getting a new number, especially if Thad could just find out that one, too, and if he’d hacked his phone to get it, then blocking him would do no good. Besides… Tim could probably use this to his own advantage anyway.

So that was how Thad Thawne was not only not blocked in Tim Drake’s phone, but he was added to his contacts. For a bit of private revenge, Tim put him in as “great value bart,” which made him chuckle.

Although, it was almost non-private revenge. Tim screenshotted the jerk’s contact page, with the name there, and his profile photo, which Tim had stolen off the internet, since the selfie Thad had sent was far too flattering for Tim to use—and he almost sent the file, along with the little smirking emoji from his keyboard.

But, hm... He didn’t want Thad to think he’d somehow gotten under his skin, and if he really wanted to make Inertia squirm, maybe not answering him back was the better choice…

Tim detached the picture from the empty text, and then set his phone down, moving his attention to Lonnie’s latest cipher, wondering why on earth his friend decided that he was the best one to check it for holes, considering that Steph’s talent for decryption far outclassed his.

He managed to work at it for another thirty minutes, before deciding that he had to give in, because his mind was still struggling with the Thad Thawne puzzle, unable to put it down.

So he drafted one more text. 

“Why did you contact me? What was the point?”

But, rethinking it entirely, he deleted that text, too, and ducked downstairs to his nest’s training platform. If he wasn’t going to get any thinking done, then maybe he could at least run through his bo forms, instead.

Happy new year, Tim Drake. A murderer has your cell phone number.

File 2: Another Day, Another Bird

March 7th: Text received: [blank]

Attached: [A picture of Inertia flipping off the camera]

No text was sent back.

Tim raised an eyebrow at the photo. It wasn’t unexpected from Inertia; he seemed to despise Tim as much as Tim did him, and their recent fights had done nothing to assuage that hatred—so much so that it only seemed like it had grown stronger. Which thus resulted in the occasional vitriolic message or picture, meant to remind him of said detestation.

This wasn’t really a problem for Tim, if he was being honest. He very rarely responded, if ever, and usually it was with a simple “okay,” or—in one instance, which had made him smirk at the thought of the speedster’s reaction—a thumbs up emoji.

And it wasn’t that he liked the texts, or anything. That wasn’t it at all.

But he did start to anticipate them—not hoping for them, per se, but folding them into his daily life all the same. In fact, it was starting to feel like his routine without them would be weirder, now.

So, when this image arrived, it was very nearly welcomed. His suspicion giving way to an amused smile, he started to type, “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me,” when he immediately caught up to himself and backspaced rapidly.

What the hell was he thinking?

File 3: Red Hood Should Have Shot Him. It Would Have Been Funny.

May 15th Conversation Log [13:36 – 14:14]:

Inertia: Look. I know you hate me, and I hate you, but I have to ask: What the ever loving fuck is wrong with you Gothamites?! You have put up with some grade A freaks in this city.

Red Robin: What are you even doing in Gotham? Red Robin: Actually, Red Robin: Do I wanna know? Red Robin: Answer in tweet length or less. Red Robin: Preferably less.

Inertia: I have a life. Fuck off. Inertia: That short enough for you? Inertia: How do you have friends if you’re this much a control freak?

Red Robin: Think you can take that life back to Keystone? Red Robin: Like, for real; I really don’t wanna hear another rant about metas in Gotham Red Robin: Seriously, it happens every time one of you shows up-- do you know how often one of you shows up? Red Robin: It’s like one of you is always here.

Inertia: I’ve got friends here I like to keep up with like a /good friend/. Inertia: Hmm…or do you not know what that’s like? Inertia: Control Freak. >:P Inertia: Seriously? I thought you guys just dealt with freaks who make very questionable choices in their lives? Or relied on tech, or something like that?

Red Robin: I was about to ask how you’re responding so quickly, but. Duh. Red Robin: Anyway, what do you care about my social life? I have plenty of friends; I just don’t feel the need to remind everyone every few seconds. Red Robin: mean it’s almost like you’re trying a little too hard. But what do I know? I’m secure in all of my friendships. Red Robin: And we do, mostly. Why? Who did you run into?

Inertia: Duh. Indeed. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one of the bunch? Inertia: I don’t really. I just like annoying you and taking jabs at you. It’s fun to make people squirm and second guess. Because, really, you don’t know what people think of you. Maybe your friends are holding grudges over some of the things you do or have said. Inertia: You really over estimate how much I care. Inertia: No one freaky. Ran into that Red Hood guy once though.

Red Robin: So like, how slow do you have to go to text like a normal person? Red Robin: And honestly, whether or not I’m the ‘smart one’ really depends on the day. I’ll give you that info for free, if only so that the next time you think you need someone with a brain, you don’t come looking for me. Red Robin: And yeah, I guess they could be holding grudges, but they still come meet me whenever I wanna hang out so :/ Red Robin: Anyway, I’m surprised you lived past meeting Hood. Must not have been much of a threat in his eyes, huh?

Tim didn’t mind all that much when Thad stopped replying, except—okay, for a moment, he was worried, since Inertia’s first text had implied that he was in danger of some kind. Tim tried to tell himself that he was only worried because he didn’t want someone offing Inertia before he could put him through the justice system, but he would be lying if he said that that excuse didn’t come to him until later, when he thought he needed one.

In the moment, rather, he’d just finished drafting, “Hey, did whatever grade A Gothamite freak you ran into this time get you?” when he realized that he shouldn’t care.

So before he could start weighing the pros and cons of sending such a message to a villain, he deleted it and put his phone on his nightstand, swiftly exiting the room to avoid even looking at it for the time being.

[Private Files: For Tim Drake’s Eyes Only]

Password: ***************

Private File 4: Weather Wizard Break-Out

No texts have been sent or received. This is just for logging purposes.

Note To Self: Ask Inertia if this is something he wants a heads-up about. If no: take no action. If yes: ask Bart for updates on jailbreaks when they occur.

Second Note to Self: Figure out why this would ever be a good idea. He shouldn’t be helped. He doesn’t even need it.

Tim sighed, as he debated deleting the entire file. He would, but… no, he had to keep thorough logs, which meant keeping the pointless ones, too—if for no other reason than that the written word was supposedly therapeutic.

He hit ‘save,’ reluctantly, and then deleted the text draft he’d written: “Central dangerous. WW out.”

He closed the file, and then started gearing up for the night, instead.

Private File 5: Unnamed Case #114713022

Password: ***********

No texts have been sent or received.

Nursing wounds from Inertia. Lost this time, I think.

What was Thad doing to him? Tim thought. Why couldn’t he just get this guy out of his life? Why wouldn’t he leave him alone? Why wouldn’t Tim leave him alone?

This sucked.

Glancing at his reflection in his bathroom mirror, he put his fingers against the bridge of his nose, and—with a locked jaw and a determination that only Batman could have taught—he reset the bone, giving a sharp cry as he did so.

“Fuck.” He gripped the sink, the flow of blood starting back up again, little droplets splattering scarlet against the porcelain, and god, that hurt.

At least he’d thrown back a few good hits of his own, because if he hadn’t, then his pride would have likely stung more than his face. Silver linings, he supposed.

Sitting heavily in his desk chair, a tissue held to his nose, he switched on his phone with his free hand, and, without thinking much about it, he typed out, “Gonna make sure you don’t get to use your healing factor next time, asshole.”

But he had a feeling that that would only make Thad smugger, so instead, he backspaced the text and turned his attention to literally anything else.

Files Closed. Signed Out. Re-Enter Password to Log Back In.

Unlogged Mission. Status: In Progress

Tim was in a very, very bad position. Hidden in the shadows of a locked-down private security bunker, with a broken arm and his friends nowhere within helping distance, he couldn’t help but think that Murphy’s Law was not only real, but that it had it out for him specifically. With Kon off-world, Bart M.I.A., and Cassie in Themyscira, he should have known better than to get involved in something too big, but he honestly hadn’t thought this mission was too big.

But now he was hurt beyond what his field first aid could help, and he was too far from Gotham for his family to get there in time; and he didn’t have any contacts in the JL—besides, he’d rather figure this out himself than contact any of the adult heroes, because then he’d never be let out of the “sidekick” shadow he was already seemingly stuck in—and he hadn’t brought his Titans communicator with him—once again, because he hadn’t thought this mission was too big for him.

So this meant that he had one option left. One, last-resort, impossible contingency, which he really didn’t even count on working, but… well, it couldn’t hurt to try, right?

7/12/22 – [msg to: great value bart, sent 3:23 a.m.]: sending u my coordinates. wouldn’t ask normally, but i’m in a bad way. all u have to do is get in and get me out; don’t even have to fight. ur powers should work fine. 7/12/22 – [msg to: great value bart, sent 3:24 a.m.]: if u do this, i’ll owe you BIG. 7/12/22 – [msg to: great value bart, sent 3:25 a.m.]: whatvr u want. srsly. 7/12/22 – [msg to: great value bart, sent 3:26 a.m.]: if u don’t come tho, which… fine ig, whatever, can u at least run bman here instead? 7/12/22 – [msg to: great value bart, sent 3:27 a.m.]: again, i’ll owe u SO MUCH 7/12/22 – [msg to: great value bart, sent 3:28 a.m.]: kay, moving locations, will be 2 rooms down from the 1 i just sent

7/12/22 – [msg to: great value bart, sent 3:35 a.m.]: in case i die btw— 7/12/22 – [msg to: great value bart, sent 3:36 a.m.]: [attached: a picture of Red Robin, flipping off the camera like Inertia, but with a grin on his face] finally sent 1 back ;P

[ambivalent-anarchy]

Body |Peter's Turn

Part 2 of 2 (Part 1 -> here)

Masterlist

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: none (suspicions of cheating but no actual cheating lol just a lotta funny miscommunication)

Anon requested- can I get a one shot where the reader does the body positivity trend with the new megan thee stallion song and the reader is insecure about how ppl will react to it?? Most importantly how peter will react to it?? K thanks

A/N- Part 2 cuz I immediately knew what I wanted to do with this the second I got the ask. (Peter's turn)

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

When Peter heard that you'd been nervous about showing him your video, he freaked.

He thought he'd done something wrong. That maybe he gave off weird vibes or that he'd said something before that made you think he wouldn't have liked it. Which definitely wasn't true. He liked everything you did.

Well, except that one time you got bangs. He didn't really like the bangs.

Anyway, Peter felt like he needed to show you that he was okay with it all. That he was down with anything you wanted to do or show him.

He looked in the mirror early that morning and decided.

Peter wanted to show what he had to offer.

He looked down at your TikTok "body" video on his phone. He could do something like that, right? He was completely clueless, but he could at least try his best.

He pulled out his phone and texted the one guy he knew could help him out.

~~

PeterParkour🤟: i need u to teach me the lip bitey thingy

PrinceHarry👑: bro what

PrinceHarry👑: ???

PrinceHarry👑: what is that

PeterParkour🤟: like when u make yourself look all cool when u bite your lip

PrinceHarry👑: ...

PrinceHarry👑: oh

PrinceHarry👑: OH

PrinceHarry👑: 😂

PrinceHarry👑: lmao why do u wanna do that???

PeterParkour🤟: im trying to make a video for y/n

PrinceHarry👑: what kind of video 👀

PeterParkour🤟: NOT LIKE THAT

PeterParkour🤟: well actually

PeterParkour🤟: kinda like that

PrinceHarry👑: PETER WHATTTTT

PeterParkour🤟: ill explain later which penthouse are u at tonight?

PrinceHarry👑: the one closest to ur apartment

PeterParkour🤟: ok ill come over

~~

Now, on your end, school was kicking your ass.

You weren't failing, but the amount of make-up work you had was so far through the roof that you might as well be. And the teachers were hellbent on making it the hardest they could.

To put it short, you needed a break.

And the second MJ heard your tired, irritated voice over the phone, she was on her way over with chips, dip, popcorn, and movies. If there was anything to calm you down, it'd be a nice movie.

MJ had gone to your kitchen to make the popcorn and you were laying on your bed finishing up some homework, when you got a phone call from Harry. "Hello?"

"I didn't know you and Pete were sending nudes."

You paused. "What?"

He carried on in a nonchalant tone. "I mean, I never took you guys as the types to do that, but damn, you two really surprised me. Dude's really over here asking for tips and everything-"

You sat up in your bed, alert and highly confused. "Okay," you said, taking a deep breath" ....what, again, the fuck?" Harry continued to ramble but one sharp scolding tone stopped him. "Harry, shut up."

He paused on the other side of the phone and then suddenly his voice came back, extremely hesitant. "...wait, was I not supposed to say anything? Did I just fuck up?" He sighed. "Oops.."

"No, Harry tell me what the hell you're-" BEEP. You looked down and saw that he hung up.

Just then, MJ opened the door, hands full with freshly popped popcorn. "Okay, ready to get the movie started?" She walked to the bed when she noticed that you were practically frozen in your spot. "Um, [Y/N]?"

You looked up with glossy eyes and she immediately knew that something was wrong. "Dude, what happened?"

You frantically shrugged a bit, and then let out a shrill laugh, half confused and half preparing for the worst. "Peter's- um... apparently... sending nudes to...me....Harry... someone?"

"What?"

-

Peter had finally made it to Harry's penthouse.

"So, nudes?," Harry chirped, very amused as he opened his door.

"What nudes?," Peter asked as he stepped into the living room. "What are you talking about?"

Harry paused. "Wait, what were you talking about?"

Peter only stared back in confusion, leaving Harry to pick through his own confusion fragments of information. He quizzically looked at him. "But-..the texts?"

"Oh!," Peter laughed, moving to sit on the couch. "No, I wanna make one of those thirst trap TikToks for [Y/N], that's all," he explained with a shrug and a bashful smile. "She made one for me, now I wanna repay the favor."

"Dude!," Harry hissed out. "You should've just said that!"

"Well, how about you just need to stop making assumptions," Peter said with a slight frown, not understanding why his friend was so wound up.

"Well, I had to since you kept being so vague!"

Peter rolled his eyes and started towards the refrigerator, if not to actually get something to drink, getting away from a crazed Harry for two seconds would be enough.

When he sat back down, Harry started to speak again. "So, what did you need me for?"

"Oh," Peter mumbled, shifting in his seat. "Well, you know how to do that sort of... stuff, right?"

"You mean looking like a fuckboy?," Harry snickered. "Yeah I'd say that's well within my reservoir."

Peter gave his typical bashful look. "So... teach me your fuckboy ways?"

Harry grinned. "Peter. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear you say that."

-

You held your phone in your handle, looking at Peter's contact number hesitantly.

"Just text him," MJ said with an eyeroll.

"But what if it's nothing?! I don't wanna be the crazy girlfriend!"

"But what if it's something?," MJ added. "Cuz if you put it off now, and it actually ends up being something, you'll be even more miserable than you would be if you just found out now."

You took a long breath and nodded. "Okay then I'll text him."

"But if it is nothing, you'll look pretty stupid jumping to conclusions like that."

You sighed. "So, no?"

"But then if it's something-" she continued, getting deeper underneath your skin with each word. "-you'll look even more stupid because you could've found out sooner and you didn't."

Finally quieting down from her rambling, MJ noticed you glaring at her. You sighed.

"So...do I or do I not text him?"

"Oh nah, dude. I mean, I wouldn't. After all, I'm not saying that I think it's something," she said with a shrug. "I'm just saying on the off-chance that it is, you'd be in bad shape."

"Okay can we please stop playing devil's advocate with my life?!"

"You know I love watching you squirm [Y/N]." "Anyway, I'm sure Peter's not cheating. The boys were probably just doing something dumb and Harry just explained horribly."

You bit your lip. "You sure?"

She shrugged. "Pretty sure."

-

"Okay, now lower the camera just a little," Harry instructed. "You gotta show the v-line, but still leave enough for imagination."

Peter dropped his arm and his posture and shot Harry an incredulous glare. "Harry, if you focused this much in school I wouldn't have to tutor you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just keep going."

This was the third picture taken and though it was out of his element, Peter strangely felt very confident with what he was doing. He never saw himself as ugly, but he certainly never saw himself as hot either. Not like Harry. But looking at himself now, with Harry's corny chain necklaces on and his hair scruffed up in a way he's not used to, he knew one thing for certain.

He looked good.

"Okay," Harry said. "Now the last one, actually needs to be some dumb picture someone took of you in your gallery."

Peter frowned. "Huh? But I'm on a roll here."

"Yeah but the whole point is that all of these pictures weren't supposed to be taken directly beforehand," he pointed out. "Since you're breaking that rule, you gotta throw in a cute dumb one to throw off your scent." He smirked. "Also, you gotta show the ladies and gents that you have a softer, funnier side."

Peter stared for a moment. "..why do you have this down to a science?"

"Says the science geek?," Harry retorted.

-

Peter spent the night at Harry's and they drove to school early in the morning. He was glad that it was Tuesday because your schedules made it so that you'd both have lunch together every other day.

"You sure she'll like it?," he asked Harry as they walked down the halls before lunch.

Harry rolled his eyes with a laugh. "You know, she asked me the exact same thing for you when she made her video?"

Peter nodded quietly, still feeling a bit down about you feeling bad about showing him that video. "Yeah, I know."

"Jesus," Harry laughed. "You insecure little dweebs are made for each other!"

"I'm gonna take that as a compliment..."

"As you should," Harry said with a shrug, as nonchalant as ever.

The two boys walked into the lunchroom and to the table they knew best. You and MJ were already there.

Peter could tell just by the look on your face that something was wrong. "Hey," he greeted cautiously. "Is everything okay?"

MJ glared at him and he looked to Harry, whose clueless face was not helping.

Finally, you looked up and sighed. "Pete, be honest. Are you cheating on me?"

What.

"What?!"

You examined the utter shock and terror in his face. It didn't look fake. He looked saddened and scared as he began to ramble. "No no! I would never! What even made you think-!"

His eyes caught yours as you looked over towards Harry sittting next to him. Peter turned toward Harry and then looked back to you in confusion. "Wait, you think I cheated on you with HARRY?"

MJ bursts out laughing next you. "Jesus..."

Harry scoffed. "Well don't sound so excited Peter, jeez."

You let out a small chuckle but kept your eyes on Peter. "It's just... Harry called me and...said something about nudes and-"

Peter's face grew even more contorted with bafflement. "Nudes?!"

Harry hit his forehead, finally understanding what was happening. "Ooooooooh, me and my big mouth..."

All eyes turned towards him. "What, Harry?"

He sighed. "This is all just a big mix-up." Harry nudged Peter. "Just show her the thing dude."

"What thing?," MJ asked.

Peter fished through his pockets. "Okay," he mumbled, a bit shaken up by what happened. He took his phone out and handed it to you. "Here."

You looked up and saw Peter looking down at you, waiting for your reaction.

"So, this is what you were doing yesterday?"

He nodded.

You blew out a long breath of relief. "You're not cheating."

"God no, babe, I'd never cheat on you," he cooed, stepping over towards your seat. "I know you were really nervous when you showed me yours, and so... I thought I should repay the favor."

He didn't even have time to breathe before you were on him, wasting no time in bringing your lips to his. He kissed you back, mildly aware of the people in the lunchroom around the two of you, but he still didn't care.

Peter pulled away with a smitten smile until he noticed blood on his lip. He wiped it away with his hand and frowned when he realized it was not his own.

You almost asked what was wrong when you noticed him looking at you strangely, but MJ beat you to the punch.

"Dude, you have a bloody nose!"

You gasped, picking up a napkin from the table.

Harry laughed. "Did you really just get a horny nosebleed?"

"Horny nosebleed?," MJ snickered.

"That's not a thing," you scoffed. "...is it?"

"It actually is," Peter corrected, blushing profusely and rubbing his neck. "Just glad to know you thought the video was hot."

"It was really hot," you gushed.

Peter grinned and pulled you close. "Aww babe."

MJ rolled her eyes. "Okay lovebirds, get a room."

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

Lol I know this was pretty trash but I was just trying to get to sleep while I was finishing this

Tagging: @allegra-writes, @allegra-soleil, @yumings , @hey-its-grey , @spideyyeet , @sunkissedspidey , @tommyunderoos , @chaoticpete , @sovereignparker , @thesherlockianavenger , @bubblebucky , @eridanuswave , @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr , @kidney9-9 , @gwenvrse, @the-weird-bisexual, @kelieah

[theintentioncraft]

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES - When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag up to 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours.

I've been tagged by @lordbelacqua (thank you Dea! <3) to talk about Backlead aka: that one Masriel fic I wrote where I got massively carried away...

Rambling/essay under the cut - fair warning, it's a long one!

Okay so first of all just a little disclaimer that Backlead did not follow my usual writing process - the idea was 110% borne out of self-indulgence and it was also both my first foray into HDM fanfic and my return to fanfic as a whole after a long hiatus from writing, so for me this was really a chance to just get back into the swing of things. Everything from Heavenly Guard through to Swansong and all of my current WIPs follow a more structured process and I'm happy to discuss any of them in a separate post!

PLANNING: I tend to find with my fics that I either have a nice little timeline of events planned out pre-writing or I have a very specific event in my head and I just take that and see how things unravel from there and Backlead was 100% the latter.

All I had in my head initially was the ballroom dance scene and so a lot of my admittedly-minimal planning was around the technicalities of that particular section, as well as some of the more general details e.g Marisa's outfit, the setting of the ball, etc. Planning the dance was the most fun part because it was a chance for me to put a lot of my dance knowledge to good use and think up something that fits the back-and-forth way in which Marisa and Asriel frequently navigate their encounters. In a way though I'm actually very glad that a lot of this fic Just Happened instead of being planned out, sometimes it's nice to just run away with an idea!

MUSIC: This gets its own section because this is one of the most important things in my process. Every single fic I write is written to various pieces of music that just help me to put myself in the right headspace for whatever I'm writing at the time - sometimes its just a single piece of music (I wrote Swansong in one hour with just one track from the Unforgotten - a TV show in the UK for those of you not familiar with it - soundtrack on repeat) and sometimes its entire playlists. I do love geeking out about my music choices for fic writing so happy to talk more in a separate post about music for some of my other fics if anyone's curious!

For Backlead I found a couple of playlist-vids from the lovely raviolae on youtube that really worked wonders for my writing. This comes with a disclaimer that I did not necessarily attribute any of these specific songs to either dance scene and I wanted to leave that open for people's imagination - but it's still brilliant vibes for thinking about two once-lovers-now-enemies trying to one-up each other whilst ignoring how much they still find each other attractive.

The two playlist-vids in question are here: you're stuck on the dance floor with your rival and find out they're an annoyingly good dancer and you're dancing with your rival and both of you want to lead

WRITING: First step every time is to figure out who's POV I'm going to cover because that makes a major difference in the way I'm going to write. Characterisation is the big thing for me and there's nothing I love more than to really get inside a character's head and basically think like them, and figure out what makes them tick and how they'll react to the story I'm putting them in. With my initial idea for Backlead being basically about the subtle power dynamics of a ballroom dance, Marisa felt like the natural go-to for this one and I found it much easier in this instance to write in her headspace than in Asriel's.

I wrote this fic in a very out-of-order fashion. The first dance (the slower, waltz-style dance) was the first part I finished, then I did as hinted at above get very carried away and move onto the section in the hallway, then I went right to the start and covered the entire section leading up to that first dance. Then I revisited the hallway scene because I wanted to rework it (the initial version was planned to be more explicit and involved less dialogue - but I wasn't comfortable with writing out the former at that time and the latter got changed by way of me having a sudden burst of dialogue-themed inspiration). The second, more set piece style dance came last in terms of the 'major events' that I wrote purely because I spent a lot of time racking with my dance knowledge to try and make it work in a way that didn't feel forced.

My final major writing stage is to write the 'transitions' between each major part - small pieces where nothing particularly noteworthy happens but it helps the fic to flow from one conversation/event to the next and also sometimes allows me to sneak in a bit of characterisation that I couldn't fit in elsewhere.

Along the way I often leave sentences half-finished with a bracket indicator so I know to go back to it later or I make little notes if I've added something in that needs explaining earlier in the fic, and I make sure to sort those parts out before I jump to the self review/beta reader stage. A couple of examples are below:

Although sometimes this method does also annoy future me too 😂:

SELF REVIEW/BETA REVIEW: Whenever I finish a fic, it gets put away for a day or two and I stop thinking about it completely - if I'm using a beta reader (usually @thatlavanderbard but I sometimes enlist help from friends on discord), I'll send them a copy of my draft at this point so they can start going through and leaving comments for me to work on, but the idea is that when I go back to my work a few days later I'm looking at it with semi-fresh eyes and can properly sift through each sentence to make sure things make sense.

When I'm self-reviewing I generally tend to follow this order of operations: spelling/grammar check (via docs') -> flow check (making sure any deliberate time skips/POV changes/etc in my fic flow smoothly from one part to the next) -> address beta reader comments (because they almost always pick up on things I myself would've picked up on anyway) -> general detailed final read through to make sure I'm happy with every single line and it all makes sense.

Backlead didn't get a full beta read because I had hit a point with it where I just wanted it up ASAP and my impatience got the better of me, but the rest of the above self-review stages still happened and I still spent a fair few evenings going through it properly and also running the occasional sentence or two by some helpful discord friends if I didn't like the way it flowed but couldn't quite figure out how to remedy it!

POSTING: First step was to reset my AO3 password because I forgot it yet again whoops

On a more serious note this part is pretty straightforward - once I'm ready to post a new fic I generally just go on autopilot for this part of the process (other than when I get to 'additional tags' and immediately get brain freeze...). As soon as it's up on AO3 I swing by here to make a post about it, then swing by discord to drop the link to friends who may be interested in reading it and then I normally nervously scuttle away from my notifications for a while out of fear that people hate it lmao.

That last part was especially true for Backlead because of it being my first trip into HDM fanfic and I always get extra nervous when posting my first fanfic for a new show/game/etc. Thankfully I got quite a few nice comments both on here and on discord that provided good motivation to stick around and post a few more things!

I always panic when asked to tag people lmao but I'll tag @fortheloveofwii for any part of the Onward, Onward series, @lyracordelia for any chapter in Hiraeth or the fic as a whole, and @glassrunner for this absolutely gorgeous gifset of beautiful game soundtracks. Please don't feel like you have to do this if you don't want to though!