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readychilledwine · 6 days ago

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Idk if you do requests but holy shit you are amazing but like on the off chance you do I’m feral over this idea you would absolutely kill for cassian or Azriel

I’m dying for a smart ass foul mouthed girl in the dirty book club that’s like half his size to get him all worked up teasing him every time he sees her but when he finally gets her alone she literally was all talk and is clueless and timid and he blows her fucking mind

I talk a big game but it’s all a bit and I have zero confidence to back it up 😂

Bonus points and my first born for…

Dumbification

Big ole size kink

& a praise link to feed the ✨ daddy issues ✨

All For Show

Summary - Cassian has gotten tired of you and your pretty little mouth. He just had to wait for the right moment to correct it.

Warnings - smut, praise kink, degradation, slight dumbification, shy reader x bold cassian, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), implied size kink (little reader x big cassian), public-ish sex, unprotected sex, a hint of Voyeurism, best friend ex dynamic, loose editing, I'm probably missing some to be honest.. oh, gwyriel mentioned. I apologize if it isn't your preferred ship, but it felt right for this fic.

A/N - I've shamefully written this three times because I wanted bonus points while also giving it plot 😅

🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

Your mouth was going to get you in trouble one of these days, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you laughed with the Valkyries.

The 4 of you were deep into your book club meeting, discussing the recent salacious read that had Gwyn’s cheeks matching that shade of red hair you'd grown to love so much. Emerie high fived you, fingers linking together as the newly added Pegasus charms on your woven friendship bracelets made a soft clink.

You were bold, especially with these 3, and your interest in the sex scene you all had just read was immediately noticed. “I mean,” Nesta genuinely laughed, “Who wouldn't want to have sex with their mate in front of their equally attractive friends?”

Gwyn shrieked, “Nesta!”

A deep throat cleared at that, reminding the four of you that you were in an open room of the House of Wind. That Cassian and Azriel were sitting right next to you. Gwyn shrunk further into her chair, Azriel smirking and chuckling at his.. whatever they had decided they were today, meanwhile Cassian had his eyes locked on you, a brow raised as you began to play with that bracelet. Deep pink, deep orange, and a purple-y navy stared back at you, the blend reminding you of a sunset. “Something to say, General,” Nesta looked her former lover up and down. “Y/n isn't interested.”

Oh, but you were, and he wasn't blind to that. “Just think this is interesting, that's all,” he grumbled. “Especially considering, y/n gets flustered when someone so much as touches her hips to adjust her stance.” Your glare shot his way as your friends began to laugh. Azriel hid a chuckle behind his hand. The tension between you and Cassian had been growing, especially due to the private hand to hand lessons he was giving you.

“You grabbed me by my inner thigh,” you retorted, eyes rolling.

“And you turned the same shade of red aa the threads on that bracelet Ness wears,” he stated. “You talk a big game, sweetheart. Someone is going to call you on your shit one day.” If you were a smarter female, you would have realized that was a warning.

Cassian was showing no mercy the next night as he threw you to your hands and knees for the fourth time in your 2 hour session. “What the hell, Cass?!” You were panting as you sat back in your heels. “Did you not get the memo that I am just a girl?”

His eyes rolled, “Stand up.” The part of you that had never responded to demands well sent him a look, head tilted back to study his imposing frame. The look you gave him was enough to break his calm. He was a General, a commander, practiced and poised, but you were ruining him. The tension between the two of you was ruining him. He had denied himself so much in this life, lost so much more. Why deny both of you what he knew you both wanted?

“You know what,” he muttered more to himself than you. “I can't do this anymore.” A hand found its way into your hair, strands wrapping around strong fingers as he pulled you to one of the benches, forcing you between his legs as he sat. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What-”

“Show me what you brag to your little friends about. Show you these skills you think you have.”

Your flush began immediately, “Cassian-”

"I knew it," he interrupted you, “Admit you're inexperienced.”

“I'm not inexperienced! I'm just shy!”

He studied you, hazel eyes taking in every inch of your skin as if you were some display. Even with your clothing on, you had never felt more exposed under his gaze. “Shy but can run your mouth to Ness? To Gwynie? To Em? Are you shy or do my hands make you shy?”

That furthered the flush as said large hand pulled your hair, angling your head back to look at him. “Cass-”

“I'm so tired of hearing you speak.” His lips crashed on yours then, forcing you into his lap, legs straddling one of his much larger thighs. Even like this, Cassian towered over you, consumed your frame. You had never considered yourself the smallest female, but with Cassian? Every female could feel small with Cassian.

His free hand slid down, tracing the curve of your breast, your waist, your hips before grabbing and squeezing your left thigh, forcing it over his other leg so you were fully straddling him and open to him.

He pulled back, lips still close as you tried to catch your breath, “Good,” he almost seemed to vibrate with his lust. “That's my Good Girl.”

There was no patience as he pulled your training top off, no ceremony as he took your bra off after it. Cassian was a male in need, something you felt every time he moved and his hips ground his covered length against you.

A silent prayer was sent to the Gods, thanking them for Nesta being in Autumn with Eris for the next week. While it didn't promise no one would walk into the training ring on you two, it did promise at least Nesta wouldn't. His mouth moved down your neck, kissing and nipping until he found the spot that had you melting to his form. “That's it,” his voice had grown deep as he licked at your skin. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me have you.”

Maybe it was because your brain stopped functioning. Maybe it was because something in you just seemed to float in his presence, but you didn't remember getting laid back on the mat, nor your leather pants slowly removed inch by inch as he whispered praise. You didn't remember his own clothing meeting the pile of yours somewhere off to your side. But you remembered his kiss bringing you back to him, “So we go dumb?” He forced you to nod. “I bet you just love being cock drunk, don't you, princess,” the nod wasn't forced this time, his smirk growing as he looked to the sky as if to say his own thank you.

His hands and lips explored every inch, the soft gasps and noises you made his consent, the way you squeezed his fingers encouragement. His tongue swirled your nipple, wetting the tender nerves before latching onto it, rolling and sucking. You couldn't help but arch your back, whispering his title, his name.

“You sound like I imagined you would,” he murmured as he kissed his way to your other breast, offering the same treatment as his words shot to your core. He had imagined you. Imagined how you would sound below him, maybe on top of him.

His kisses began to trail lower, paying extra attention to the sensitive spots he found. He stopped at the hem of your panties, eyes glancing to meet yours, “This is your chance to tell me to stop. If I keep going, that's it. It's you being manhandled by me until I'm done with you, understand?”

The whimper that left your throat at that was almost sinful, “Cassian, please.”

“Use your words,” he demanded. “Use that your mouth to tell me what you want done. You like to run it when you think I'm not listening. Talking about how you want to ride cock and be tied up and used like you aren't telling everyone my dreams.”

Another whine as he licked your core, protected from that skilled tongue by thin lace. “Words,” he demanded again.

“Please taste me.” The tear of fabric followed that plea, all caution thrown to the wind as he dived in.

Cassian wanted to taste every inch of your core. His tongue running over the left side, the right, your clit, your wet entrance. Emerie had told you once enthusiastic partners made sex better and you knew why now. Cassian not only knew what he was doing, but it was clearly his pleasure to be doing it. Each plunge of his tongue inside of you was met with him moaning or groaning, lips vibrating the sensitive parts of your body and building the feeling desperation that slowly wanted to kick in. You sat up on your elbows, watching him as he glanced up, hazel eyes dark and watching your face. Each reaction was a reward to him, your heart seeming to tug at the pride gleaming in his eyes at each little noise that escaped you.

No novel compared to this.

No words could describe it.

Your stomach was growing tight, head falling back as he feasted as if you were the most delicious meal he'd had in over 500 years of life. His lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, tongue making half circle shapes around your far too aching clit as a thick finger ran your core and gently pushing in.

“Cassian,” your body seemed to shutter in pleasure, tightening around that single digit. “Cauldron fry me,” you moaned as he curled his finger up, immediately locating that special spot inside of you.

This was just his finger. Just his finger had you feeling like you were stretching to a limit as he worked his tongue and hand in time, the band inside of you going taunt. He was careful as he added in a second, watching your face as if he knew. As if he could feel that little panic building in your mind.

He washed it away as he changed how his tongue was moving, now giving teasing motions with just the tip directly where your body was screaming to be touched. He watched your eyes close, watched your guard drop as your hips moved, wanting to ride his face and fingers. He would have normally allowed it, but not this time. Not when he so desperately wanted control and to prove you were all talk. Not when he so desperately wanted you to be his. Your walls began to tighten again, his name becoming something you couldn't even finish as your gasps and panting increased.

Then you tumbled. You fell from the edge, squeezing those two fingers so hard he struggled to work you through your high with them. His free forearm pushed down on your hips, forcing you to stay still and at his mercy. He only slowed down when your trembling did, fingers coming out of you so he could lick them clean, his own hazel eyes fluttering shut. He moved up, kissing you again and forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

“Off,” you begged, mind going hazy as you tugged his own leathers. Your request was met, Cassian standing over you as you instantly moved to your knees, watching his hands unlace before pulling down. His cock stood hard for you. It was thick, long, veins in places you knew were going to touch the perfect spots inside of you.

Cassian was larger than any male you'd ever been with, and it had been a while since you had been with anyone. He was a challenge, one you were prepared to meet as you felt your mind fully slip away. “Open,” he whispered. His own stomach flipped with excitement when you obeyed, hand grabbing your high ponytail as he moved his hips and your head forward. This was something you knew, mind immediately working on the sole goal of his pleasure as you began to lick and suck, head bobbing. His hips met your pace, not pushing or forcing. “Just like that, sweetheart. Putting that mouth to good use for once,” he groaned. He tasted of something purely Cassian. Of salt and power. “You look beautiful like this,” his hips increased slightly, encouraging you to do so as well. “Mouth wrapped around my cock, looking up at me with those pretty eyes. Such a good girl.”

He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of making him finish like this. No. He wanted that to happen when he was buried inside of you, you ass bouncing with each thrust he would give you. He watched you closely as you sucked him off, tongue and lips wetting him until he was sure he wouldn't last if you kept going.

Whines of protest left you as he pulled you off, walking you the bench and forcing you to crawl with his grip on your hair. “Hands on the bench.” An order you were not dumb enough to deny, positioning yourself as he asked. He kneeled behind you, kissing your spine as he forced a knee up on the bench as well. It wasn't comfortable, but it would be effective. “Breathe.” Another command from the General of the Night Court as he lined up with you and began pushing in.

“Gods!” Each inch of him seemed to knock the air from your lungs, your breathing ragged. “Cassian, I can't-”

“You can,” he silenced you. “Breathe. Breathe like we taught you.” He timed his entrance with each deep breath, groaning once he was fully inside of you. His hand went to the small of your stomach, dirty thoughts about wanting to be big enough he could feel and see himself inside of you.

The first rock of his hips had you almost shouting your moans. He reached places you'd never known. Places no one had ever touched. You were like a vice around him, the stretch burning and adding to your pleasure as he began to move, stroking that building fire with care. It didn't long for the training area to smell like sex. To be filled with the sounds of his deep groans, you gasps and pleads, the sounds of skin hitting.

His hands reached forward, wanting more control of you as he grabbed your arms, holding and forcing them behind your back and making you arch more for him. Helpless. You were helpless.

And that's when the Cassian Nesta had described to you all began.

His thrusts became fast and hard, hitting your g spot over and over. His hand that wasn't holding your wrists found your throat, resting there and giving one squeeze to test the waters. You couldn't even moan his name anymore as that fire grew, all words were lost to you, all thoughts eddied before falling to silence. Your body wanted to feel. And feel you did.

Every drag was a spark, every word he whispered in your ear a kindling. You would burn. You would burn alive if he didn't stop. That tension built again, faster than it had with any other partner.

Cassian was a God. No one could convince you otherwise as those scarred lips pressed against your temple. “I won't last,” he muttered. “You're too warm. Too tight. You have me, princess. You and this pretty pussy.” He smirked as a wanton moan left your throat, the heat of his body sending you into overdrive.

You wouldn't last either.

Frankly, you didn't want to.

His hand squeezed your throat again, his pace becoming less patterned and wild. He was chasing your high like a predator closing in on its next meal, and when you seemed to freeze, body tensing before a scream tore through you, he served himself.

“That's it, y/n. Doesn't that feel so right, angel? Falling apart with me inside of you,” he grunted as he fought off his own high. “You feel like heaven, y/n. So good, baby. So fucking good.” His voice prolonged your high, forcing you into a state of overstimulation. You collapsed against him, body putty to his will as he chased his own orgasm.

“Fuck,” he yelled before you felt him give one last hard push into you, warmth spreading as his spilled inside. His hands moved, one shooting out to wrap around your hips, forcing you to stay down. The one found the bench, stopping the forward motion from you both falling into it, protecting you even as his mind clouded to the feeling of you squeezing around him.

This didn't just feel like heaven. It was heaven.

He moved your leg down once he was done, his hand now finding your chin to tilt your head and kiss you softly. “You did so well,” he said against your swollen lips. “So responsive for me. Felt so good. Was it good, sweetheart?” You only nodded, biting your lower lip as he showered you with more praises. “Let's get you dressed so I can get you in a bath.”

Your arms held his right one once you two were dressed and walking towards the house. He only paused when the door opened, and Azriel sighed, holding Gwyn against him as she blushed and squirmed, “You couldn't have kept going,” Azriel teased. “Gwyn was enjoying the show.” Your face fell, realizing you had been caught and watched. Teal eyes met yours, her own blush spreading out from where Azriel had a hand on her mouth. “Come on, my light,” Azriel purred to her. “Time to go do dagger training.”

Cassian laughed as he continued pulling you in the house, pulling you to his room, to his tub.

You could face the consequences of Nesta potentially finding out later. All that mattered now was the feel of his hand, slipping down your body and below the water for round two.

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moghedien · 2 months ago

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I've been so fascinated with how the movie pulls off the emotional climax at Ozdust, because I think its not nearly as simple as is seems to a lot of people. Like you can reduce it to "Elphaba did something nice and Glinda felt bad" and then one dance routine later they're friends

I think its a lot more than that though, and I think the movie kinda trickles things in gradually to show it throughout. And that kinda reduces it down to Glinda's guilt motivating the entire friendship, which I don't think is accurate either. Its less "Glinda feels bad" and more "Glinda and Elphaba realized they were playing entirely different games and had entirely skewed their reasons for hating each other" which included making Glinda also realize that she was being a bitch for no damned reason

Like, even their reasons for their rivalry are different from each other and so are their reasons for "maintaining" that rivalry. Their first interaction was them both mutually embarrassing each other, though only Elphaba was trying to embarrass Glinda. Which, to be clear, I'm not saying puts Elphaba in the wrong. Elphaba is very clearly in the right for I'm pretty sure all of this, and even if Glinda wasn't trying to embarrass Elphaba, it doesn't make her promising to degreen Elphaba in front of everyone any better. It's just important to understand their different perspectives on what is going on to understand the different places they're coming from. Glinda was putting on a performance of being a good person, at Elphaba's expense which she didn't even consider. Elphaba was pointing out how stupid that was and embarrassing Glinda to prove she's unbothered and correct.

That is kinda that best summary of how their rivalry goes. Glinda is performing, while Elphaba is responding to that but specifically in ways to piss off Glinda and show she's wrong. But they don't realize what the other one is doing. Glinda is performing to look like a good person and maintain the admiration of her classmates. By putting on this front of suffering by having to be in Elphaba's presence, she gets an easy win with her peers. In What is This Feeling specifically, you see them over and over again validating Glinda for just existing in the presence of Elphaba.

And given the girl sings a whole song about how "its not about aptitude, its the way you're viewed," you can assume that putting on a good appearance to her peers is probably the most important thing to her, period. Literally nothing matters more than that, and Elphaba provides an easy win. But she also has some clear attraction draw toward Elphaba that is strange and unspecified (she's gay), because she doesn't just suffer by being Elphaba's reluctant roommate, but clearly goes out of her way to partner with her, to find her at lunch, to make a scene with her in class repeatedly. Like she almost doesn't even count just having to privately live with her, she needs to bring it out in public too and spend time around her even when she should be happy to finally not have her around.

And making it all the more clear to me that all of this is, in Glinda's eyes, just a performance, we have the "looks like the artichoke is steamed" line, which is definitely one of the meanest things she says to Elphaba, but the way it goes down is fascinating. Because let's look at how that goes down:

Glinda makes a scene because Dr. Dillamond mispronounces her name.

Elphaba defends Dr. Dillamond and tries to embarrass Glinda.

Artichoke comment.

everyone is laughing at Elphaba.

To Glinda, this is what they do. They poke and poke at each other in public until one of them folds and wins, and if its her she gets public approval. But, what makes this clear to me that this is a performance is Glinda's immediate actions after the artichoke comment. When everyone is laughing, she exchanges a look with Elphaba, and the look is not mean at all. She doesn't look like she's gloating or like she just won, she just kinda nods and smiles and it seems like a genuine acknowledgment of...something. It's unclear what, but she doesn't seem like she's overly proud. It's like she's nodding to someone who just played a good game against her, but lost and she wants them to know they played well. It's bizarre the look here and fascinating.

And even more bizarre because Elphaba seems to acknowledge it as well and seems like she understands and almost smiles in response. But I think this also illustrates the disconnect in them for what their rivalry is.

So looking at Elphaba now, her approach to her rivalry began with her embarrassing Glinda, as mentioned before, and continued with her embarrassing Glinda. Most of what she is doing is trying to intentionally embarrass Glinda, which as I said before, isn't really wrong because Glinda is as far as we ever see, the one who is in the wrong and who starts the whole thing by embarrassing Elphaba. But as I said before, embarrassing Elphaba isn't the point of what Glinda is doing, she's trying make herself look better and is just using Elphaba, but literally how would Elphaba know this and why would it matter?

We see that Elphaba has been targeted and mocked her entire life, and that is basically what Glinda is doing to her now. But its also different with Glinda. Because before its always like, groups of people banding against her, with Glinda its personal. She certainly has her minions and all, and basically the entire school hates Elphaba just because they love Glinda, but Glinda isn't really using them. She's still doing everything herself and seems to actually go out of her way to go against Elphaba herself.

That, as far as we know, is different than any bullying Elphaba has experienced before, and what also makes it different is that Elphaba has an advantage of having something Glinda wants and something that prevents her from being pushed aside. Elphaba is basically going to be at this school however long Madame Morrible wants her there, and Madame Morrible also hates Glinda, so Elphaba can't be pushed away and she also has this one thing to hold over Glinda, because she's the one getting the attention that Glinda actually wants. And she's also potentially the only one that might help Glinda get it.

In a really weird way, this rivalry with Glinda might be the closest thing to a friendship that Elphaba has had from someone that isn't her sister or her nanny. Because its both of them personally going after each other and they both also have advantages over each other. And its clear that Glinda could be using her peers to target Elphaba but isn't. And Elphaba also makes it clear that she can ignore people she doesn't like, and yet she doesn't ignore Glinda. Because both of these freaks enjoy poking each other nonstop forever too much. There is something that draws them together (homosexuality) even when they supposedly can't stand to be around one another. Glinda is performing, but Elphaba is having the time of her life sparring with someone in a way she probably never has before.

Which takes us to the hat.

Elphaba approaches Glinda because, according to Nessarose, Glinda did something nice for her. We don't know specifically what Elphaba was going to say to Glinda, but it seems like its something she isn't comfortable with. Maybe she was trying to figure out what Glinda's motivations were. Maybe she was just going to thank Glinda for what she did. Either way, we don't know because Glinda interrupts her by giving her the hat and really talking up that damned hat too. Not only giving her the hat, but specifically inviting Elphaba to go out with them. Elphaba has probably never gotten anything like that before.

Elphaba, who has had the time of her life being antagonistic with Glinda up until this point, now thinks that Glinda is doing nice things for her and for her sister, for seemingly no reason. So she returns the favor and makes Madame Morrible accept Glinda as a student and tell her that night. That night, because this was going to be best night for Nessarose, maybe for Elphaba too now, so let Glinda have something too. Maybe this rivalry was turning into something else and maybe Elphaba was glad for it.

Only, Glinda wasn't being nice.

Glinda getting Boq to ask out Nessarose wasn't to be nice to Nessarose. She wanted Boq to leave her alone. And she didn't give Elphaba the hat and invite her out to be nice, she wanted to embarrass her after receiving validation for the idea from Pfannee and Shenshen.

What you need to know about Glinda here, is that she does not think about other people. She will throw a fit at Dr. Dillamond mispronouncing her name because he physically can't say it right and then repeatedly call Boq by the wrong name. She doesn't know if Nessarose wants to go to the dance or if Elphaba wants her to stop mocking her. She doesn't even consider these things when deciding to do something for her own benefit. She is doing as Glinda must do to perform as she needs for her audience (the entire world).

Which is how we end up here, at the emotional climax of the night. When she discovers that Elphaba did one very nice thing for her after she did something specifically to humiliate Elphaba, its not just guilt for this one moment, right? Its guilt for every little thing that she's done that she just assumed wasn't actually affecting someone else. Her mocking Elphaba and doing all these things wasn't actually about Elphaba, after all, it was about Glinda looking well. Because she didn't even really think about Elphaba, or how she might be interpreting what their dynamic is or that she might actually have been hurt by the things Glinda does. It was all a performance to Glinda.

But is was something else to Elphaba entirely.

And so we look at all the times, like the artichoke moment or their introduction, where Elphaba didn't seem all that upset and maybe Glinda realizes that wasn't always the case. She just wants people to think she wasn't. She was performing too, just not in the same way Glinda was. She was enduring the disapproval of others because she was maintaining this dynamic with Glinda, whereas Glinda was getting approval from others for enduring Elphaba. They were playing different games entirely and Glinda didn't know until Madame Morrible gave her the wand. It wasn't just the cruelness of the hat that she realized, it was the cruelness of single thing she's ever done to Elphaba.

And looking from Glinda's perspective, it makes sense if you see that she's forced to reckon with the fact that she's a terrible person and doesn't like herself, but look at what the situation is from Elphaba's. To Elphaba, Glinda is the first person that saw that she'd hurt Elphaba and then reached out to comfort her and try to help fix it instead of laughing or getting upset or doing nothing. Like I said before, the dynamic she has with Glinda before this is maybe the closest thing she has had to a friend, which is fucked up. But also part of me wonders, based on how they're seemingly drawn together when they could just ignore each other and based on Elphaba's reaction to Glinda's sort of nod after the artichoke comment, AND based on how quick Elphaba was to approach Madame Morrible, part of me wonders if Elphaba was just hoping for a moment when their antagonism would end the whole time. And that's why she's so willing to accept that once Glinda does something that Galinda is not supposed to do and makes a fool of herself to support Elphaba in front of all of the people she's supposed to be putting on a show for.

Which I think, makes Glinda joining Elphaba in the dance that much more important. Because, and I love this for the movie, she's not getting praised for doing so. Shenshen and Pfannee tell her to stop. The initial reaction she gets once people realize she isn't mocking Elphaba is scorn. For like, this one little moment they're on the same page. Glinda is getting disapproval for being with Elphaba here. And it ends in them being accepted by the party, but that almost seems to be unimportant. They hug before they realize that everyone else has joined in, and once they realize it, they leave the party together pretty much immediately. Their relationship has been a show in public for so long and so what happens next when they stop performing happens in privacy, just for them.

#*chanting* toxic yuri! toxic yuri! toxic yuri!#if you start reading this before seeing how long it is I'm sorry #gelphie #elphaba thropp #glinda upland #wicked #wicked movie #wicked part one #wicked spoilers #wicked musical #long post

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itneverendshere · 4 months ago

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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.

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vorestarr · 1 year ago

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i love when Astarion is mean, and i mean like genuinely mean, saying shitty things and lashing out specifically to hurt someone or push them away. i think it really says so much about him and about the specific situations when he feels the need to lash out. i love seeing it with Durge/Tav, but i'm playing a Karlach origin to romance him right now and he's so mean during his first romance scene when he can't even kiss Karlach.

after playing it, i went to look at the parsed dialogue for that scene because i wanted to see if there were any dev notes, and oh boy are there dev notes. walk with me here while i go through them all. (i didn't add alt text to the images below, but i did transcribe the lines i'm referencing in the images below, so all the important information is in the text of the post itself.)

it's the typical Astarion scene, but after his "i've been waiting to taste you" line, he diverges with: "Although your condition means tasting you could be a risky proposition. You're quite the forbidden fruit, aren't you?"

the player (as Karlach) has a few choices in reply at that point, but as long as they pick one that progresses the scene (i.e., not the one where you reject him last minute), he goes down the same dialogue tree. this tree starts with:

Astarion: All denied to us because of what Zariel did to you. [devnote: subtext, thinking about Cazador]

so right off the bat he's upset because Karlach's situation is reminding him of his own with Cazador.

but then his next line is:

Astarion: I - you know, I have no idea what to do with you now. [devnote: Astarion's mask as the flippant libertine is cracking a bit here. He's frustrated but vulnerable here. Because he can't physically seduce or touch Karlach, his usual means of interacting with a person is punctured. He's faced with the reality that he might not know how to handle a situation where he can't bite or seduce his way to the finish line.]

wow. that's a lot in that dev note.

at this point, the player has the option of a few responses, but two options to continue the encounter. the choices to continue it are: "You don't have to 'do' anything. We can just be." or "After the life you've led, I'm not surprised."

if you choose the first option, Astarion is frustrated but less mean. he says:

Astarion: 'Just be' what, exactly? Frustrated? Bored? What do we do, if not... that?

if you choose the second option, he's a little meaner. understandably so, since the player just poked at his painful past:

Astarion: You think you know the life I've led? The experiences I've had? You've no idea the stories I could tell, sweet Karlach. But you - you're just -

then, both the paths converge to the same final statement, which is mean no matter what Karlach has said to this point:

Astarion: Urgh! Why is this so difficult? I'd have already bedded you twice if you were normal.

importantly, there are dev notes for all of his lines here, but the notes are all the same:

devnote: Masking defensiveness with offensiveness. In truth he really does want what Karlach is offering (to just hang out without having sex) but now that it's within grasp he's floundering.

again, at this point the player has two choices to continue the encounter, and one to end it. i'll go down each continue path separately, since they can diverge quite a bit.

path 1

the first choice is to say: "Twice in this short space of time? Doesn't sound very satisfying."

he gets mad. and mean.

Astarion: Karlach! You know what I mean. [devnote: Frustrated] Astarion: Or maybe you don't. Astarion: There may be an inferno in you, Karlach, but at the end of the day you've been frigid for a decade, isn't that right? [devnote: Being mean-spirited in an attempt to drive Karlach away, even though he doesn't actually want to do that.]

the player again has two response options to continue the encounter, and one to end it.

the first choice to continue the encounter is: "You want to try that again? Without being a jackass, maybe?"

in response he says:

Astarion: This is impossible - you're impossible! [devnote: Masking defensiveness with offensiveness. In truth he really does want what Karlach is offering (to just hang out without having sex) but now that it's within grasp he's floundering.]

(at this point, the path diverts to merge with the dialogue tree from the previous branch where Astarion complains about Karlach not being normal. so we'll pause here, and continue down that dialogue tree with the path 2 header below.)

the second choice to continue the encounter after Astarion says that Karlach has been frigid for a decade is to say: "What's really going on here, Astarion? Suddenly you're so vicious."

he replies:

Astarion: Suddenly? Darling, you haven't been paying attention. [devnote: Seething and mean.] Astarion: Listen, it's just - ... I'm sorry, all right? Is that what you want?

again, at this point, he diverts to the same shared dialogue tree as the other response option. that merges with path 2, so we'll continue there:

path 2

to go BACK to the previous branch we went down, where Astarion said he would have bedded Karlach twice already if she was just normal, the other response option for the player is: "I am normal. 'Fucked up' is the height of normalcy."

instead of being mean, Astarion immediately apologizes:

Astarion: Oh no - don't you tar me with your 'normal' brush. My demons keep me extraordinary. [devnote: Karlach has punctured Astarion's bad mood with a joke.]

and then he apologizes, like he does in the other paths, saying he doesn't know what to do without being able to touch her.

Astarion: I - ...I'm sorry, Karlach. It's just, not being able to touch you - having to slow down, it's... I'm just not used to it. [devnote: subtext here is on the slowing down. That IS what he wants. But it's hard for him to see that clearly.]

Astarion: So, can you -... I don't know. Help? Show me what to do? [devnote: First breakthrough. He's asking for help knowing what to do when you can't jump into bed with someone.]

again, at this point, the player has two options to continue the encounter or one to end it.

for the first response to continue, the player can say: "We can just talk. As long as we want. Then we can sleep. Near, but not too near."

Astarion responds to this one pretty positively. he's still a little mean, but it's in his fond teasing way, and not his biting, cruel way:

Astarion: Karlach, champion of the Hells, wants to talk and then fall asleep? [devnote: Incredulous] My dear, you're much more boring than I gave you credit for. [devnote: Teasing] All right, Karlach. Let's try it your way. [devnote: Gently. He's feeling vulnerable, but sees that this might be a chance to feel safe.]

the second response option from the player is: "I don't know either. This is all just as new for me as it is for you."

he doesn't respond quite as well to this one, and goes back to being mean:

Astarion: Well. To quote you: 'Fuck.' Astarion: Why don't we put ourselves out of this misery and just sleep? If I can at least look at you, I won't have wasted my whole evening. [devnote: Peak of Astarion sexy toxicity.]

then, the scene fades to black and it transitions to the morning-after scene with Astarion, where the player first sees his scars.

i also think as a whole, this scene is just so representative of Astarion's early-game state of mind. he's following a comfortable script with all his interactions, but when he's confronted with something new, he flounders.

especially when it comes to sex, which is a touchy subject for him, his first reaction to any vulnerability is to lash out and hurt people. in this scene:

if Karlach brings up his past experiences, he lashes out. ("You think you know the life I've led?")

he blames Karlach for the situation because that's easier than addressing that he doesn't know what to do without his script. ("if you were normal")

if Karlach jokes about him ("Doesn't sound very satisfying") he lashes out even further, calling her frigid and impossible and then even doubling down if she calls him out ("you haven't been paying attention").

but if Karlach jokes about HERSELF ("'Fucked up' is the height of normalcy"), it snaps him out of his toxic bullshit and he's able to take a step back and apologize to her.

then regardless, he's also able to recognize that this is an opportunity to get what he wants without having sex, and recognize that he wants that too.

and then to me, Astarion being mean in that last response choice ("I don't know either") makes perfect sense, given the context of his other lashing out earlier in the conversation. even if the player didn't make those previous choices where he lashed out at them, he can still get mean and toxic on this choice.

crucially, with this choice, he's taken that step of hopeful vulnerability where he recognizes that maybe he does want to just spend time with Karlach without having sex, but he doesn't know how to do it. he asks for help.

if the player says they don't know how to do that either, he immediately puts those defensive walls back up. he doesn't want to flounder around, he wants an answer. he wants to know that it's actually possible to have a positive experience with someone without the script he's always used. the player saying they don't have that answer just pisses him off.

wow okay this post got really long, but i really vibed with the dev notes for this scene, and i think you can see exactly these toxic behaviors from Astarion in other scenes and in romances with other characters as well, but it's just so so clear with the Karlach scene and the dev notes just really highlight that.

#astarion #karlach #hellspawn #fireblood #astarion ancunin #karlach cliffgate #meta

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whoops-all-jennas · 1 month ago

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Look Who's Inside Again pt 1.

Jenna Ortega x fem!reader

"Well, well. Look who's inside again."

"Went out to look for a reason to hide again."

Summary: This is your first time playing a major role in a movie and it's intimidating. Jenna comforts you after you hide away in your trailer.

a/n: y/f/m means your favorite media. movie, book, anime, video game, whatever.

Part 1. Part 2.

The muted sound of everyone talking fills my ears as I zone out. The first few days on set are being used to get the cast adjusted to each other. I've never had such a major role before in a big movie, to say I'm nervous is an understatement.

I already have trouble talking to people normally, how am I supposed to talk to celebrities? Especially when they're the ones approaching me. Shouldn't it be the other way around?

"Y/n?" A voice enters my head, my head perking up at the mention of my name. I meet my eyes to Jenna's. "Are you okay?"

"I uh, yeah I'm doing good." I force a smile before looking to the side, avoiding her gaze. I have never felt more parasocial in my life. How am I supposed to hold a conversation with these people, especially Jenna, when I feel like I already know too much about them and they know nothing about me.

The main cast consists of four people. Jenna Ortega, Finn Wolfhard, Wyatt Oleff, and I. It's one of those horror movies where it's a group of teenagers investigating something where they should die because of it, but we all know they won't because it's a movie.

"So are you excited? This is your first major role right?" I turn towards the voice to meet Finn. "This could be a big debut for you."

"Yeah I'm excited." I grab my arm, holding myself and taking up as little space as possible. "I'm mostly nervous though, a lot can happen."

I feel Jenna's gaze on me, so I turn to look at her to find a look of curiosity in her eyes. "It can be intimidating, but you can do it. I believe in you." Jenna's genuine smile meets my uncertain face.

Jenna saying 'I believe in you' repeats in my head like a metronome. This somehow makes me feel more nervous and also safer at the same time.

I just don't want to embarrass myself in front of these people, especially Jenna.

It seems the conversation continued while I was in my head. Everyone's eyes were on me expectingly. Did they ask me something?

"Sorry, what'd you guys say?" I ask, Finn and Wyatt look at each for a moment with a face that I can't tell is annoyance or uncertainty. "It wasn't important." Wyatt states.

That feeling of safety is now gone, my heart beating at a thousand miles an hour.

Was it important?

I feel my legs start to shake from the nerves, as if I could fall at the slightest inconvenience.

The nervousness replaced with anxiety and uncontrollable thoughts. 'Did I already blow it before I did a single scene? Does everyone think I'm annoying? That I'm distant?'

I find Jenna's worried gaze on me yet again, causing me to look at the ground for a moment before trying to keep eye contact with the main cast and failing. "I'll be back."

I quickly find myself walking to my assigned trailer, my pace faster than usual. When I finally find myself inside, I close the door pushing my back against it before sliding down. I sit there with my knees to my chest and head in my arms wrapped around my legs.

I already decorated my trailer to procrastinate on meeting the others. I tried my best to make it feel like home, bringing posters and collectibles from different pieces of media I enjoy. The blinds are closed, blocking the light sure, but also separating the trailer from the set.

Luckily, I also brought some string lights to hang across the ceiling. I don't know if I could handle the harsh florescent lights my entire time here.

I take a moment to try to take control of my breathing, doing the breathing exercises I've been instructed since I was little.

I'm interrupted with knocking on the door I'm leaning on. I stand to open the door to find Jenna Ortega on the other side. I still can't believe I'm seeing her in person and on talking terms.

Well, if I ever actually try to talk to her that is.

"Hey, I just wanted to check on you. It seemed like something was wrong." Her worried yet genuine glance meets mine.

"I'm- I don't know." I cut myself off to stop myself from lying, biting my bottom lip.

Jenna looks past me for a moment. "Can I come in?"

I nod, opening the door more and taking a step back. Jenna walks past me, she's wearing this nice perfume that fills the scentless trailer.

She looks around, admiring the decorations. "I like the string lights, I can't handle the florescent lights they use in these."

I close the door before approaching the built in couch. "Thanks, I actually wasn't aware of them until I got here. Luckily, I brought them from home by chance."

Jenna turns, taking the seat next to me. "Do you wanna talk about what's wrong? I understand if you don't want to."

"I-"

I cut myself off again, unsure what to say. "I don't know."

My heart is still beating to the bpm of flight of the bumblebee.

Jenna gives me a genuine smile, trying to make me feel comfortable, before glancing around the room again. Her eyes linger on the merchandise of different medias.

"How about we talk about media we like?" Her genuine gaze meeting mine. "I'll start, I really like Breaking Bad. It's kinda a guilty pleasure of mine."

My eyes slightly light up.

"I also really like Breaking Bad." I say, trying to reflect her genuineness. "I really like the character development and how much they change throughout the story."

Jenna scots a little closer. "I know right?! it's so good!" She seems so interested in the conversation.

She looks into my eyes with a smile. "Now it's your turn."

I look around the room for a moment, unsure what I should say. For a lot of my life I was told I can get annoying when I delve into my interests. It's like whenever I start talking about it I can't stop.

I don't want her to think I'm annoying, but I also don't want to tear down all the work she did to try to get me comfortable.

"I really like y/f/m, I just love the universe that they made so much and the characters." I start speaking, pausing for a moment to read Jenna's expression.

She is smiling and has this look in her eyes, like a genuine interest in what I'm talking about. My eyes feel like an open door as she looks into them.

"You can keep talking, I was listening." Her smile somehow becomes more genuine, causing a smile to creep up on my face.

For the past few minutes Jenna let me ramble about y/f/m. I soon realize I've likely been rambling for way too long "I'm sorry, I didn't realize how long I was talking." My smile fades, turning to embarrassment in an instant.

"What, no it's okay." She puts a hand on my knee comfortingly. "I was interested in what you were talking about."

I look at her eyes, her genuine eyes complimented with her genuine smile.

She is just so genuine.

"Are you sure I'm not being annoying?" I ask, insecurity laced in my voice.

She nods to me, her smile fills my heart.

I'll never get over the way she looks at me. As if she's actually interested in the conversation, interested in who I am.

I find myself looking down to the couch cushion, hiding my face. Soft gentle sobs start to escape my body, my shoulders slightly shaking.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jenna scots closer, her hand gently grabbing my unstable shoulders.

I sniffle before getting my head up, revealing my glossy eyes and a few tears. My head feels like a boulder, trying to keep it lifted on top of my shoulders.

I shake my head with a smile. "It's stupid."

"There isn't a stupid reason to cry." Jenna says comfortingly, rubbing my shoulder with her thumb as she rests her hand there.

I look away again for a moment before meeting Jenna's gentle eyes. I open my mouth, no sound coming out as I try to decide my words before I speak. "It's just you're so nice. Most people either just let me speak, but are clearly disinterested or just flat out call me annoying."

Jenna's eyes are laced with empathy as she looks into my eyes like windows.

I sniffle before speaking again, fanning my face for moment. "And you just seem so interested and intrigued in what I'm talking about, and it just means so much and- I don't know."

She continues to rub my arm. There was a moment of silence, the only noise being my soft sobs until Jenna spoke. "I loved seeing the excitement and passion you have about y/f/m. You should talk to me more about it some time." She says with a smile.

I nod. "Yeah, I'd like that." A sniffle interrupts the middle of my sentence.

"I should probably try to calm down, I don't really want to go back outside looking like this." I motion my hands over my face, addressing my puffy eyes and tear streaked face.

Jenna breaks eye contact for a moment, finding the tv before meeting my gaze again. "How about we watch something?"

I nod, she stands and quickly finds the remote. "Before we start watching something, do you need a hug? You're allowed to say no."

I love how considerate she is.

I nod, standing up. She holds her arms out, inviting me into her arms. I put my arms around her lower back and she wraps hers around my upper back, one hand resting on the back of my head playing with my hair comfortingly. She holds me in her warm, gentle embrace for a moment before letting go.

She meets my face with a smile. "Feel better?"

I quickly nod with a smile on my face, happiness in my eyes.

"Do you have any comfort movies?" Jenna asks, finding her seat back on the couch.

I find my seat next to her. "I really like Studio Ghibli movies."

Jenna points the remote to the TV. "How about Spirited Away?"

"That sounds good to me." I say with a nod, looking at her one more time with a smile before we start the movie.

a/n: hii guys, hope you enjoyed my first Jenna fic. this was inspired by the tiktoks I've seen about the way Jenna looks at people. maybe if you guys behave you'll get a Jenna fic that has actual romance in it next.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you

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fallingformatt · 6 months ago

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PARTY C.S.

fratboy!Chris x reader

summary: what happens when you go to Chris’ frat party for the first time?

warnings: smut, usage of alcohol and weed

word count: 2.1k

a/n: I don’t know if this is any good, but I’ve been wanting to write something about Chris so if yall have any suggestions or ideas lmk 🤭

this post is not proofread

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Chris is known for throwing the best parties on campus, he's known for always having what you need, whether it is weed, drugs, or some dick. All the girls on campus drool over him and most of them can only dream of getting with him. Chris is a slut and he knows it, Chris isn't seen with the same girl more than once, and the girls that get with him know that, yet many of them think that they can change him.

Chris is always in the scene, hanging out with his friends, always having a girl wrapped around his shoulder, and spending more days of the week partying than actually studying. I'm the complete opposite of Chris, I'd rather stay in my room, unwind from the day, and watch a movie while eating some snacks, I mean yeah sure I've been to parties but I've never been to one in collage let alone to one of his parties but the stories that my roommates tell me give me a pretty clear image about what happens at the parties and what happens when you find yourself in his bed sheets.

Tonight was different though, I was out of my comfy pajamas, out of my comfy bed, out of my comfy room, just in general I was out of my element tonight because we're currently heading over to Chris' for one of his usual parties. My roommate has been begging me to come for weeks and tonight I finally caved in. As we got closer to his place, the loud music made its appearance, and I immediately started to regret my decision to go, why did I agree to go, why did I agree to wear my roommate's dress that has my butt slightly hanging out with every step that I take. "Hey you good?" my roommate asks turning her head in my direction. I simply nod. "Good, 'cause we're here," she says with a huge smile plastered across her face, grinning at me from ear to ear.

As I'm stepping in, the loud music starts pounding through my ears, the smell of weed and sweat hits my nostrils, and the sight of people dancing, smoking, and passing joints, people snorting lines and pushing tongues down each other's throats meets my gaze.

"Hey ladies," Chris walks up to us greeting us, his tone is sluggish almost lazy, his eyes dark and bloodshot his one hand already wrapped around some girl's waist as the other one is holding a beer. My eyes meet his bloodshot ones, his gaze is inviting yet dark at the same time, he quickly scans me up and down before licking his lips, a dark smirk forming on them as the grip around the blonde girl's waist gets looser.

"Let's get something to drink," my friend says as she pulls me through the crowd of people dancing. As I'm sipping on the hard liquor that's in my cup my roommate pulls me into the crowd of people that are dancing.

The music takes over my body as I move to the rhythm of the song that's playing. I take the last sip of my drink, my cup that's now empty has left me feeling a bit tipsy, I look around, searching for my friend who's nowhere to be found. I swiftly move through the crowd making my way to the kitchen to refill my cup while scanning the area in hopes of finding my friend but with no success. I refill my cup and find my way to the couch, I sit down, causing my already revealing dress to slip up even higher, half of my ass now being exposed on the old couch whose leather fabric is torn in multiple places, matching the vibe that the alcohol stained rug gives off that's underneath the couch.

While sipping on the strong drink that's in my cup I feel someone's eyes on me, I lift my head to look who it is, and I see Chris standing across from me, two chicks around him dancing and drinking their drinks as they try to rub up on him, trying to get noticed by him, yet his hungry gaze is set in my direction, his eyes wandering, scanning me up and down. I quickly lift myself up enough to pull my dress down enough to try to cover as much of my ass as I can, his eyes make their way up to mine causing me to turn head and look away.

I feel a slight bounce of the couch as someone takes a seat next to me, I look over and it's Chris, he sat down next to me and set down his beer bottle on the table in front of him before sliding his hand down the pocket of his grey zip up hoodie pulling out a zip lock pocket filled with weed, his fingers quickly reaching for the papers, eager to roll up a joint. I glance over his fingers as they precisely and quickly finish the joint, his tongue traces over the seal of the joint before he rolls it closed placing it between his lips and lighting it. His finger movement made my thoughts wander.

As he removes the joint from his lips he blows out the foggy cloud of smoke before turning his head in my direction, shifting his gaze to me, my eyes already examining him, his slightly curly but messy hair which were held back by a red backward cap, his relaxed pose as he sits in his ripped up couch, a smirk appears on his lips as he notices my focused stare, "want some?" Chris offers. I slowly nod before my fingers softly brush against his as I take the joint from him. I take a couple of hits before passing the joint back to him. He gives me his signature grin that makes all the girls weak in the knees.

"m' Chris," he says falling deeper into the couch and laying his hand behind me on the couch. "I know," I mumble looking down at my cup swirling around the liquid that's in it before taking a sip. "Dis ain't you're scene ain't it doll," he says his voice relaxed as he grabs his beer bottle taking a few sips. "Where your friend go?" He asks. I shrug my shoulders in response as I feel the effect of the weed slowly taking over my body.

"Ur like the quiet type yeah?" He asks as he takes the last hit from his joint before throwing it in the beer bottle. "I don't know," I answer. "You look like a baby deer, all cute n shit, I like that," he says his voice growing deeper as his tone stays relaxed. I take my eyes off the cup that's in front of me and look at him studying his features, staying silent. His eyes look more faded than before, his lips are glossy, I glance over his hands, and the thought of his fingers while he was rolling the joint pops up in my head making me bite my bottom lip as I feel myself getting wet.

"Doll you good?" He asks as he lays his hand down on my thigh, I nod. "Hey, you got any more weed?" I ask trying to break the silence. "Mhm, you wanna smoke?" Chris asks. "Yeah," I answer and Chris stands up pushing out his hand, offering me to take it. As I stand up I fix my dress and Chris leads me through the crowd of people to his room. The way to his room was a blur, the mix of alcohol and weed buzzing through my body as the flashing lights and the loud music spins around me.

As we enter his room he walks over to his desk and opens the top drawer pulling out a pre-rolled joint. He holds it between his fingers as he walks towards me. He presses his thumb on my bottom lip, putting the joint between my lips before pulling out a lighter out of his pocket and lighting up the joint that's in my mouth. As I inhale I notice his hungry stare, I take another hit and before I get to exhale the heavy white cloud of smoke, he pushes his lips onto mine, our lips moving in sync the fuzzy effect of the weed taking over my body as the music plays in the background the smoke escaping as our lips move against each other.

Chris' lips make their way down from my lips to my jaw as he leaves wet sloppy kisses. I throw my head back giving him more access as he leaves a trail of wet kisses from my jaw down to my collarbone, before removing his lips as he takes the joint out of my hand and puts it between his lips, taking a hit. Chris leads me to his messy bed, turning me over, my ass brushing against his growing bulge. He lets out a quiet grunt before I feel his hand on my lower back pushing me onto the bed.

I support myself on my elbows my ass is up, and my dress slides up, revealing my ass fully. "Mmmm," Chris sighs before I feel a smack against my ass. His hand rubs circles on it before giving another sharp slap and grabbing on it. His hand makes its way to my clothed core as he rubs circles on my clit. I let out a moan as I arch my back moving my ass closer to him yearning for his touch. "Eager are we doll?" Chris says before I hear him unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. His hand travels up the outer side of my thigh till his fingers reach and grab the waistband of my panties pulling them down.

Chris smacks his dick on my pussy a few times before aligning his dick with my entrance and pushing his cock inside me. "Oh my god Chris," I moan almost yelling as I feel his cock slipping inside of me filling me up. "So tight doll, fuck," he moans as he starts to move inside of me. As he's pounding into me his hand travels up my back, his fingers wrap around my throat holding a tight grip he pulls me up while fastening his pace, and I let out a loud moan. My back rubs against his chest as he holds a tight grip around my jaw, he moves his other hand and places the joint between my lips. I inhale and throw my head back as I let the smoke out.

I let out a loud moan as Chris fastens his pace his dick moving fast and hard in me, he pushes me causing me to crash my face into his sheets. He places a hard smack on my ass and I'm moaning his name over and over again as I feel myself getting close. "Chris-" I moan out, "Chris I'm bout to," I can't complete my sentence as the pleasure is uncontrollable. I hear Chris chuckle, his hand travels to my hair pulling on it, now pounding into me even deeper and faster. "Haven't been fucked this good yeah?" He says his voice deep and filled with pleasure before letting out a moan as he takes a hit from the joint that is in his other hand.

"I'm clo- Chris I'm so," I try to blur out that I'm close but with no success. "Look at ya doll, ur a mess over my dick," he chuckles leaning over me leaving a kiss on my back and continuing pushing hard inside me. I arch my back as I feel myself about to go over the edge. "Shit doll taking me so fuckin' good," he moans out not slowing down. I stretch out my hand grasping onto his sheets as I feel the knot in my stomach about to unravel. "I'm about to cum," I moan out. "Cum for me doll," Chris growls, taking a hit from the joint throwing his head back letting out a moan.

"Fuck doll," he moans as he places a deep hard thrust making me go over the edge. I let out a pornographic moan as my orgasm takes over me sending shivers down my spine and making my body shake. Chris continues to thrust and after a few thrusts he releases his seed inside of me riding out both of our orgasms. "that pretty pussy of yours all mine now doll," he says as he pulls out biting his bottom lip. Chris smacks my ass one more time before pulling up my panties and pulling down my dress so that my ass is once again covered.

As I stand up I turn over to look at Chris and I see him throwing out the joint he had finished smoking. As I’m about to start walking to the door I lose my balance as I am way too high to function. I sit down on Chris’ bed and I hear him chuckle. “Stay here tonight doll, I ain’t let anything happen to you,” he says.

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calicoups · 11 months ago

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౨ৎ this is home — csc

synopsis seeing a stupid father-daughter scene, you didn't think it would affect you this much. but, you come to a realisation that you don't need that because seungcheol is your home. pairing seungcheol x reader genre comfort word count 0.7k warnings implied daddy issues (bruv idek), lmk if i missed anything. hani's note this kinda happened to me minus cheol LMAO also wrote this while listening to yellow and sparks by coldplay, i'm in tears.

there's a father-daughter scene playing out on the screen in front of you. you don't feel any particular way when the father is looking at his daughter with love and adoration in his eyes as she rambles on about something that you've long forgotten about. but what seems to get you is how he holds her in a hug, a hand stroking her hair and him pressing a loving kiss to the crown of her head.

he never held me like that. why? i wish he did.

you don't notice your exhales becoming heavier and just a little louder as you try to control what's happening inside yourself. you don't even know why you feel this way, why the room suddenly feels warmer or why your nose starts to sting, why tears well up in your eyes and roll down your cheeks as you continue to watch. you don't know why your chest tightens. why is it suddenly so hard to breathe or swallow?

and you don't notice as seungcheol turns his head to figure out why you're crying at the movie. just as he catches another tear make its way down your cheek, his own chest tights, even more so when you inhale a half choked breath.

seungcheol knows.

he's immediately pulling you onto his lap, having you face away from the tv so you don't have to see that stupid scene anymore. feeling his warm arms envelope you makes you cry harder. it's as if a river had broken through a dam, not stopping anytime soon as it rushes and rushes hurriedly towards an open body of water. except that it can't.

seungcheol hushes you, rubbing your back with a large hand. up and down, up and down. running a hand over your hair and wiping your tears carefully with a thumb.

as he speaks, his chest vibrates against yours, "i'm here. i've got you, hm? safe with me, doll."

oh, his sweet words and the things they do to you.

you've calmed down and stopped crying but you feel out of breathe. every time you heave a breathe in, seungcheol presses you against him and you can't see it but he squeezes his eyes shut at the same time, heart breaking at the sounds.

"sorry," you whisper out finally, "didn't mean to—"

"sorry for what?" he stops you from answering that, "no need to be, okay?"

that look in his eyes. he means it and so much more. you can cry in my arms all you want. don't be sorry about it. i love you. i'm sorry there were people in your life who didn't love you like you were supposed to be loved but i'm here now. i'll love you the way you deserve and more.

you so badly want to break down in his arms again and it doesn't go unnoticed by seungcheol's observant eyes because he's holding you in his arms again. one arm going up to rest against the back of your head to smooth over your hair again and the other at your waist, squeezing gently.

"cheollie," he hums in response as he moves back to take a look at your tear stained face and glossy eyes. seungcheol's eyes tell you what he's feeling, he's hurting for you but he's also loving and caring for you silently as he watches you find the words, "what is it, doll? you can tell me anything."

"nothing...just," you suck in a breathe, "i love you."

there they go again, the tears in your eyes barge back in, uninvited.

seungcheol smiles ever so softly and kindly, you might disintergrate at the way he looks at you.

"oh, my baby," he places both of his calloused palms gently on your cheeks, "i love you, too. i'll always look out for you, remember that."

as you smile back at him, your eyes crinkle and the tears that had been staying in your eyes unwelcomed, finally fell. taking the moment in, you move closer to kiss seungcheol's lips and reciprocates with a chaste kiss. he whispers sweet words to you and it makes you shrink in his lap, hiding your face in his neck.

taking in his woody but fruity cologne, you know one thing for sure. this is home. seungcheol is your forever home and there's nowhere else that you would rather be.

#hani writes!#hani writes: csc #hani writes: svt #caratsland #scoups #scoups fluff #scoups x reader #scoups imagines #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol imagines #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagine

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chrystal-ink · 1 month ago

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Shadvent Calendar Day 25!!!!!!!

Shadow X GN Reader

Merry Christmas

Twas the morning of Christmas and all through the house

not a creature was stirring not even a chao.

The Stockings were filled with gifts and much more

And presents under the tree there was so much was in store.

the lovers were snuggled nice and warm in their bed

with dreams of each other dancing round in their head.

and that my dear reader sets the scene,

for I quickly grew tired of this rhyme scheme.

🎄

Shadow was the first to awaken, cracking his eyes open he saw that you were still wrapped in his arms from the night before. he looked down admiring how beautiful you looked as you slept, so serene and gentle. he couldn't help but lay a kiss between your ears, holding you close as you snoozed.

your eyes fluttered open after about thirty minuets, feeling a warm embrace and the sweet sensation of Shadow petting your hair you looked up at him and smiled.

"Good morning sweetheart" you said your voice still a little groggy.

"Good morning my love, merry Christmas" he said gently.

"Is that really today?"

"Yes, would you like some breakfast, or maybe open up some presents?"

"mmm, In a little while, I want to stay here for a bit."

"very well love, take as long as you need."

You two spent the next hour snuggling in bed holding onto each other keeping the cold weather at bay. the two of you holding each other's ungloved hands enjoying the soft intimacy of skin on skin contact. sweet nothings were whispered as the wind blew softly against the window.

"I suppose we should have some breakfast" You said finally ready to begin the day.

"How would you like me to help?"

"Could you feed the Chao and grab our pancake toppings from the pantry"

"Consider it done"

The two of you quickly got to work on your tasks You brewed some coffee and grabbed Shadow his beans. Within a half hour you had a pancake feast ready for the two of you.

After breakfast you couldn't wait anymore. It was time for presents.

The two of you took turns opening one another's gift's. Much to your surprise Shadow was a very advanced gift giver. he gave you things you never thought to ask for, like a replica of your favorite toy from childhood, the perfect accessory for an outfit that never felt quite complete to you, a signed album from your favorite musician. what warmed your heart the most wasn't the things themselves but the fact that he had listened to you, he took the time to know you well enough and chose your gifts from the heart, that was the best gift you received on Christmas morning.

after presents you went on a walk enjoying the winter weather. you played in the snow even letting Shadow's Chao in on the fun.

Vanilla insisted on having everyone over for Christmas dinner. Her home filled with the most wonderful aromas imaginable. a meal made with love and served to a company of your closest friend's, what could be better than that.

That night after the two of you had gone home, you were snuggled up by the fireplace.

"Did You have a good Christmas?" Shadow asked

"The best" you responded

"I'm glad you think so."

Shadow placed a kiss on your lips, warming your insides any hint of a chill destroyed by his love.

"Merry Christmas Shadow"

"Merry Christmas Y/N"

Note: Oh my gosh it's Finally Done!!!! I want to thank everyone who has read this series even if you only read one or two it means so much to me, every like, comment, and reblog really helped push me forward and keep going with this series. this is the first time I've ever completed a project like this and I'm so proud of myself. I started this blog to help me get through a really tough personal time and thanks to all of you lovely readers you helped me get through it. I will be taking a short break for now not too long maybe just a week or two. I have been writing for this blog non-stop since October and I want to avoid any burn out. I will be back soon with Regency Au part three (which is looking to be very long) and chapter one of my enemies to lovers series so be sure look out for those soon. I will continue to do my one shots as well as I really enjoy doing them I think I'll probably need to figure out a schedule lol. until next time, Merry Christmas and have a beautiful Day.

Much love,

-Chrystal

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #shadow #x reader #sonic fanfiction #not beta read #advent calendar #shadvent calendar

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love-byers · 7 months ago

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these 5 clips play back to back in the season 3 finale.

1. el seemingly comforting mike by touching their foreheads, caressing his face and hair. as this plays, hop says in his voiceover "For the first time...in a long time...."

2. jonathan comforting nancy by touching their foreheads, caressing her face and hair. as this plays, hop continues, "I started to feel things again. I started to feel happy."

3. mike walking away from el, who puts her hands on her hips, looks down, and stifles a sob. hop says nothing here.

4. the byers leaving their driveway for the last time. "But lately...I guess I've been feeling...distant from you."

5. mike watching them leave. "Like you're...you're pulling away from me or something."

this is not a coincidence. and before some of you start, with the "the goodbye scenes were all improv!!"

yes, i believe that the kids were given loose instructions and improved the hugs and such. what i don't believe is that the editors for this hit show with a huge budget just threw the footage together with no thought or intention. they went through the footage and took the clips they wanted and edited it together to tell the story they were trying to convey.

visual story telling.

they show a romantic couple sharing intimacy, cut to another romantic couple sharing intimacy, cut back to the first couple where one of them is walking away from their partner.

whats extra weird about that is that mike is the one walking away from el when el is the one moving across the country. wouldve made more sense to have el walking away from mike. but no.

and they don't show jonathan walking away from nancy.

the last time we see jonathan and nancy together they are tearfully saying goodbye, jonathan comforting nancy and caressing her face.

the last time we see mike and el together, mike walking away from el. leaving her while she's crying.

and the thing that reinforces this the most is the clip that plays right after: the cars and trailer pulling out of the driveway. that implies that that m11 scene is it. thats it. they show no more hugging, no more crying, no comforting, just mike walking away from el.

you really truly think that means nothing???

now lets pick up right after the last gif i showed. i really want you to remember these are happening one after the other. im not leaving anything out.

3 shots of hopper's empty cabin as he talks about fun things he did with el in the letter.

shot of el and joyce in the uhaul. when it cuts to el, hop says "I know you're getting older..." when it cuts to joyce, he says "...growing..."

mike looking back at wills house one last time and biking away. and when it cuts to him, hop says "...changing. And I guess...if I'm being really honest...that's what scares me. I don't want things to change."

will in jonathan's car, crying. jonathan glances at him. and looks back to the road. hop says nothing.

mike hugging his mom, not blinking once. as this plays, hop says "So I think maybe that's why I came in here. To turn back the clock. To make things go back to how they were."

OKAY. clearly el isn't associated with mike here. she is associated with hopper. and perhaps that is what she's thinking about; their cabin and all the fun they used to have.

mike is associated with will.

mike looking at will's house -> will crying -> mike hugging his mom (when the last time we saw him hug his mom like that it was when he thought will was dead)

they are thinking about each other.

and i refuse to believe what hop says when mike is on screen means nothing. mike spent the whole season trying to change. pushing will away and trying to grow up, encouraging him to do the same. and at the last minute, as will is leaving to move across the country, he realizes he doesn't want things to change. he wants things to go back to how they were. and it scares him.

and the next time we see mike, he's in a dnd club. he's not acting like it's too childish. because he never truly felt that way. he was just trying to grow up.

this is some of the biggest byler evidence to me. its absolutely insane.

#stranger things #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler endgame #byler analysis #mike wheeler i know what you are #milkvan is bones #milkvan bones #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 months ago

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Politely affectionately agressively begging for more Furina fics you write her AMAZINGLYYYYY PLEASEEE and it's so rare to see my girl get any fics YOU A REAL ONE FR FR 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫

(Genshin Impact) Furina watching an emotional movie with her S/O

*Imperial Guardsmen Voice* IF SUCH IS THE EMPEROR'S WILL! Also, you can imagine this as an Isekai S/O or Fontaine somehow developed movies, idk you can work the imagination on how movies exist in Tevyat, I'm just here to give you the funny/cute.

Furina's lips trill in boredom as she sits down on the couch, an hand underneath her chin.

Dinner had already been finished, dessert promptly followed but the night was still young.

Her S/O was in front of the couch, rustling coming from a box they were searching through.

She got up from her seat and knelt next to them, curious as to what they were looking for.

(Furina) "S/O?"

(S/O) "Hang on, just looking for something we can watch...ah!"

S/O pulled out a box containing a small CD. Furina couldn't help but flinch instinctually.

(S/O) "Before you ask, no it's not a horror movie."

With a sigh of relief, she grabbed the box and raised an eyebrow.

(Furina) "Oh thank goodness!...A-Ahem, so, what is this?"

(S/O) "It's from Inazuma. It's a super cheesy story about a man and female meka falling in love."

They put a finger to their chin as Furina scoffed as she crossed her arms.

(Furina) "Oh please, I've seen far worse premises in my stage plays, S/O!"

(S/O) "True, but this one might make you cry."

Furina's smirk grows bigger hearing their lack of faith.

(Furina) "Psh! Me? Cry at a love story probably told a thousand times? Please! Put it on S/O! I'll prove you otherwise!"

ONE HOUR LATER...

S/O and Furina were sitting quietly, nearing the end of the film's duration.

The man's head was resting on the meka's lap as he was nearing the end of his life, though the mood was very bittersweet.

With a beautiful piano tune playing in the background, the Meka looked up to the sky, finally getting a revelation for the human it fell in love with.

[Mekaigis] "Not everything needs to be for some greater purpose. Just caring for someone can be enough. That's all we need to give our lives meaning. As for me, I've found my path. And that's to protect you with my life..."

S/O's heart strings tugged at the touching dialogue. Blinking away a few tears, S/O turned to Furina.

(S/O) Furina's been really quiet. I wonder if she's not as affected as-

S/O's thoughts were interrupted the moment they actually glanced at their girlfriend.

Furina reached for her box of tissues, which was already halfway gone, and blew violently into it.

She proceeded to wipe away her tears with her hands while her lips trembled, eyes locked onto the screen the entire time.

(S/O) ...Okay yeah, she's doing as good as I thought she would.

S/O moved in closer to hold her hand and at least give her some comfort for this admittedly tear-inducing scene.

Only for their hand to be almost hurt from her grip strength as she held on with all of her passion, Furina's attention daring not to even turn away.

S/O almost yelped out in pain, but kept strong for the sake of their girlfriend's immersion.

And with the man finally closing his eyes, the movie finally came to a close, with the music's lyrics riding the scene out.

[Movie] "kaze no koe hikari no tsubu madoromu kimi ni sosogu-"

Furina stood up from her chair, pointing to the screen with tears still fresh in her eyes.

(Furina) "T-THE MOVIE ENDS RIGHT THERE?! BUT THAT'S NOT FAIR! HE AND MEKAIGIS FOUGHT TO SAVE THE WORLD, THEY SHOULD BE HAPPY TOGETHER!"

S/O couldn't contain their soft laughter, getting up and attempting to calm her down by gently wiping her tears away.

(S/O) "I agree, but it's a rather beautiful ending to such a tragic story. But what did you think of it?"

Furina pouted at their laughter, crossing her arms and huffing.

(Furina) "I'd rather have watched a horror movie, something like that is way too sad!"

(S/O) "I thought you said you wouldn't cry-"

(Furina) "I-I was simply crying at their performances! They did an amazing job acting out a horrid script, as a performer I couldn't just ignore their handiwork!"

S/O playfully rolled their eyes as they sat Furina back down, quickly joining her on the couch.

(S/O) "Is that right? Anyways, there's a followup sequel where it follows Mekaigis after the events of this movie called the Answ-"

(Furina) "PUT IT ON RIGHT NOW! I HAVE TO FIND OUT RIGHT NOW!"

Her voice cracked as she pointed at the screen, making S/O laugh and comply.

(S/O) "Yes, ma'am."

Furina's leg bounced anxiously as she watched S/O painfully put the next film in slowly, getting immersed again immediately.

===

Author's note:

This isn't actually anything related to the post besides the obvious reference, I just have to get it out of my system because I was listening to the soundtrack of said reference. Ahem. AAALLLL THE JOURNEYS START SOMEWHERE WITH A FIRST STEEEEEEEP NO ONE'S SURE WHAT LIES AHEAD BE BOLD AND BRAAAAAAAAAAAAVE (STAND UP!) ROADS MAY BEEEEEE ROUGH AND TOOUUUUUUGH THOUGH IT WILL LEAD SOMEWHEEEERE (NOTHING EASY GET UP AND GO GET IT GO) SOMETIMES IT'S JOURNEY ITSELF THAT TEACHEEEES A LOT ABOUT THE DESTINATION NOT AWARE OOOOOF NO MATTER HOW FAAAAAR (NO MATTER HOW FAR) HOW YOU GOOOOOOOO (HOW YOU GO HOW YOU GO) HOW LONG IT MAY LAAAAAST (CARPE DIEM NO TIME TO WASTE) VENTURE LIFE, BURN YOUR DREEEAAAAD! (YOU GOTTA VENTURE LIFE GO GET IT BURN YOUR DREAD)

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #furina x reader #furina genshin impact #furina x you #furina x y/n #furina genshin

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piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 1 year ago

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I've been thinking about how Ed starts directly killing people in s2e8. I've seen a lot of worry that this is tragic, that it's Ed falling back into a life he hates with more vigor, and I don't think it's meant to be understood that way at all.

I think it's a triumph.

One thing we absolutely have to understand: there has never been a time on the show when Ed wasn't killing people. That's true for all characters; this is a show about pirates. Even in s1, Ed was leading successful raids and ordering racists skinned. In a realistic sense, nothing has changed.

The difference is in how Ed does not need to construct intricate ways to distance himself from it anymore.

We know that Ed's first time killing was his abusive dad, an event that deeply traumatized him, and it left him thinking himself an absolute monster. His own capacity for violence disgusts and terrifies him, and even though he's been very successful in a very violent career, he needed to distance himself from killing people ("the fire killed those guys, not me") to avoid confronting this part of himself. He believes that the part of himself that is so capable of violence is irredeemable, a monster, unworthy of love.

Even at the start of the season, when Ed is in a self-destructive spiral, it's debateable if he's directly killing anyone. If Lucius had died, he'd probably have said the sea did it, not him. The guy we see him shoot during the raid sequence already had a knife through his chest - it's a step up, and surely meant to be understood as self-harm more than anything else, but that's still a mercy kill, if anything.

Compare to the finale of season 2. These are direct kills, there is no way to argue that Ed is not responsible. It is not debateable that Ed killed all those British officers.

A lot of the worry I've seen around this concern how Ed is going back to what he's good at (as Pop-Pop told him to), and there's an asusmption that that is killing people/violence. But that's not true, is it? Ed's never been good at killing people, his hangups around directly killing are a known character trait. So...what is Ed good at?

Think about how the scene plays out. Ed sees the Republic burning; he can only assume Stede is either captured, wounded, or dead. He's horrified and dazed, his ears ring - he kills the two British soldiers who happen upon him, he decided to fish up his Blackbeard outfit.

What is Ed actually good at? He's a good pirate, a good captain. He's good at keeping his crew safe, he's good at keeping Stede safe. He has to think he's either going to be embarking on a mission to get revenge or to save his boyfriend.

At first, I was very hesitant about the idea of Ed having to go back to piracy, which he says he hates. But what he was actually trying to do was drown Blackbeard, the part of himself he sees as so unworthy of love. He needed to see that Blackbeard is part of him, that he's not a monster or unloveable, that Blackbeard can help him save his friends and his boyfriend.

It's not a coincidencethat the show goes out of its way to make Ed's killing people in this episode as morally easy to accept as possible. The British officers we see are all racist and mean and unpleasant - like, damn, singing 'we shall never be slaves' while making Black characters serve them? Gross! They got what was coming to them! This is the 'racists deserve to die' show, after all.

And Ed uses this violence as a tool for love, to get him back to his boyfriend, to give them a triumphic reunion. I don't think it's a coincidence that this is when Ed tells Stede he loves him, either - he's come one step closer to accepting he's worthy of love, he's more ready to acknowledge what they have.

Ed doesn't have to feel bad about killing those officers. The show doesn't ask him to. He gets to retire while still wearing his Blackbeard outfit - Blackbeard gets to retire, not be drowned with a canonball in the ocean. And we're left with Ed, still with a lot of growing to do and a lot of self-discovery left, but he's closer to realizing that he's not a monster and that he's so deserving of love.

#ofmd #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death #this show. gddamn. got me feeling shrimp emotions #also like. unrelated to the meta. but it was also really hot.

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roxannepolice · 2 months ago

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Figured I might try rambling about how wonderful the DW s3 finale trilogy is, all with some screencaps that get it best

All screencaps from QuiteUnlikely.net

I've rambled about this before, but this shot is some ancient philosopher with his twink boytoy arrangement (think Socrates with Alchibiades or Aristotle with Alexander). Just. Obsessed with the Doctor being in supplicant/trainee position here.

Much binary code has been spilled about how Martha and Jack should be absolutely pissed about the Doctor wanting to "care for" the Master, and rightly so, but the moment Martha realises professor Yana might be a Time Lord is freaking everything. Just look at her. She's forcefully keeping herself from exploding with joy at the idea the Doctor might not be alone anymore, keeping in mind how she actually sat there and listened to him waxing about Gallifrey. It's the same energy she gives when she finds out the Doctor found Rose. I understand the pleasures of vindicativeness but my girl Martha Jones has the emotional capacity of the Pacific. Same goes for Jack. That guy went through everything the Master put him through over the YTNW and still decided his dying words should be letting the Doctor know his husband is out there. Struggling through radiation poisoning to get him a date was the least the Doctor could do in return.

Just sir Derek Jacobi acting porn.

There is a repeating choice in camerawork where the Master is shot from below and the camera turns around him, especially when he's surrounded by the Toclafane. Gives the viewer an excellent sense of vertigo that makes you feel you're inside his crazy pretty head.

I am absolutely obsessed with visual choices in the TenSimm phonesex scene. Just, the sudden sense of intimacy between them, underlined by the Master taking out his private phone? The Doctor stepping away from Martha and Jack for the talk? The way he conspiratorialy lowers his head for asking the Master out for a date talking about how they might just be together in whatever way, fighting across the galaxies if that's what he wants? Amazing.

This moment is amazing and not discussed enough probably because the fandom is too busy finding hidden meanings of winning and losing in thoschei context to appreciate what's explicitly laid out before them. Like, you can just tell the Master knows the Doctor's there but still waiting for the proper order of moves in this fucked up game of chess they are playing (and also actually focused on his plan in which the Doctor is just one element and not the focus). Meanwhile, the Doctor's all oozing determination right before he states his claim in the game: I'm not here to kill him. I'm here to save him. That's it. He knows how difficult it will be, but he will win the game by "saving" the Master. Both from others and himself. In this very simple, very explicitly laid out context, the Master dying rather than getting "saved" by the Doctor is... well, let's call it a draw.

Just an apprecitation of David Tennant's acting here. You can see this does not come easy to the Doctor. You can see he feels the weight of forgiving the Master. You can tell he really did suffer for himself and others like the Christ figure he is over the year. At the same time, the arrangement of his hands on the Master's body is so overwhelmingly protective. He knows what he's about to say is horrible.

Ok, this scene was backward engineered. RTD just really wanted thoschei to hold hands under his run. There's a reason this moment keeps being giffed as them actually reconciling and that's the author wanting it to feel like this. At the same time, the little alone moment the Doctor and the Master get on the ground is wonderfully crafted. The Master going into grandiose Paul Atreides' He who can destroy a thing has the real control of it mindset while the Doctor just calmly calls his bluff and talks him down because he really does know him. A contrast to the chaos going on oboard the Valiant. Followed by what would be mistaken for aggressive sex in the wild if you got just a teensy bit drunk.

Just appreciation of Jack holding the Master by his collar like a naughty cat that won't let his nails get trimmed :3

Look at him. Look at the impossible warmth in the Doctor's eyes. This bitch is so freaking hopeful. His mind in already in the space of cuddling with freaking enormous Flemish giant rabbits on Teletubby planet he and the Master are going to engage in.

OK, this moment. This moment. Lucy seriously doesn't get due appreciation as a character. Judging from the comments on my "Lucy adopted the Master because he reminded her of her cat" staute more eternal than bronze post, a lot of people don't like the idea she was just hypnotised into working with the Master and quite right too. No, this is a woman who enjoys power, who gets all ears when she's called "the power behind the throne". This is also someone who has witnessed the last remnants of humanity cannibalising themselves into murderballs, abandoning all hope for better future. End of the day, it's all going to end and the end will not be pretty. It's also someone who suffered a year of abuse from someone she actually loved and does not have the 900 years of witnessing all sorts of horrors the Doctor has. But just look at the calmness with which she gives the gun to Jack. She just did what needed to be done. When the Doctor says the Master "corrupted" Lucy, it's... well it's not exactly that he's wrong, but it's not the case of "oh, just an innocent dainty girl who met a bad man", it's more the case of "If you take a life do you know what you'll give? Odds are you won't like what it is". Contrary to what some writers would have it, DW's stance on violence isn't "guns are baaad, m'kay", but it is "once you've ended a life, it changes you as a person", hence aside from "nooo that's mah husband :(" the Doctor stopping Francine killing the Master, while the latter goads her to it, come on, you have it in you, just as I did the first time around way. The Master gave Lucy an opportunity to kill. Now she's just going along with it. Killed by the monster of your own making, if that ain't the story of the Master's life.

Ok, ok, ok, the pieta. Because this is the freaking pieta, with the Christ figure holding up the Satan figure. How much more blasphemous can you get? How much deeper into the essence of mercy can you get?

There can never be enough said about the Doctor's reaction to the Master saying he'd rather die than be imprisoned by him. Yes, there's the level at which he has a backup plan AND THAT CANNOT BE EMPHASISED ENOUGH, but from the Doctor's perspective? That's the Master denying everything he is, rather than just granting him the experience of another Time Lord - especially this Time Lord - by his side. That here, thank you mr Tennnat, is pure devastation. It's the one possibility the Doctor never took into account. The one rule of the game he never considered valid.

But on the other hand, this here? This here is the Master genuinely surprised and almost sympathetic of the Doctor, on the account of focusing on all the good times they had together, all the times they together achieved things they never could seperately I mean leaving aside the Axon incident being one of the meanest things the Doctor ever did to the Master, tee hee. He seriously never expected the Doctor to hold these memories fondly, to actually think of him fondly. That's the juxtaposition to him enumerating all the times the Doctor's beaten him earlier in the episode. For him, it's always only about the objective winning. For the Doctor, it's been at least partially about the relation. The way his eyes venture of the Doctor's face? That's surprise and sympathy. But of course, not strong enough to change your mind when you do have a plan B.

The Master's so playful. So playful when he says the "I win!" line. He knows the Doctor. He knows his stake in the game was to "save him". Dying is the only way left for him to at least not loose. But for the Doctor it became so much more, and he didn't even realise when.

This is the face of the man who wants it to still be a game and still denying just how much real the things are getting. Look at him, he's ready to mirror the Master's playfulness the moment he gets a chance.

Bless you, mr Simm, for just how bloody peaceful you look here. For looking like you've just had the first peaceful sleep in centuries. You look like a freaking doll.

Oh yes, we will appreciate the burying your face in the other's hair here. To quote the brilliant line from a tensimm fic by @theprodigalpragmatist y'all need to read, A mourning wail. A mammal unburdened with consciousness prodding the limp form of its mate and finding no response, crying out to gods it couldn’t conceive of. A defeat.

And of course, the downturned lips of mr Tennant mourning and dutifully accepting the Doctor's deepest defeat to date. This man's still thinking of the fun he'd have pressing Flemish gaints' fur to mr Simm's round face.

The choice to include the wink to the audience that the Master is in fact just fine right at the moment when Martha leaves and the Doctor is alone in the TARDIS is briiliant. Oh yes, just gimme that God descends to the bottom of hell's frozen lake and finds Satan to pick them up feel.

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