#like if this is about X specific diagnosis

[inkskinned]

you wanted to be a good friend, because you loved your friends, but the truth was that everyone else somehow had a pamphlet on being normal that you never received. most of the time you learn by trial-and-error. you are terrified of the next big mistake you make, because it seems like the rules are completely arbitrary.

you've learned to keep the prickly parts of your personality in a stormcloud under your bed - as if they're a second version of you; one that will make your friends hate you. it feels feral, burning, ugly.

instead, you have assembled habits based on the statistical likelihood of pleasing others. you're a good listener, which is to say - if you do speak up, you might end up saying the wrong thing and scaring off someone, but people tend to like someone-who-listens. or you've got no true desires or goals, because people like it when you're passive, mutable. you're "not easy to fluster" which is to say - your emotions are fundamentally uninteresting to others around you; so you've learned to control them to a degree that you can no longer really feel them happening.

you have long suspected something is wrong with you, but most of the time, googling doesn't help. you are so-used to helping-yourself, alone and with no handbook. the reek of your real self feels more like a horrible joke - you wake up, and, despite all your preparations, suddenly the whole house is full of smoke. the real you is someone waiting to ruin your other-life, the one where you're normal and happy. the real-self is unpredictable, angry.

your real self snarls when people infantilize the whole situation. because if you were really suffering, everyone seems to think you'd be completely unable to cope. but you already learned the rules, so you do know how to cope, and you have fucking been coping. it's not black-and-white. it's not that you are healed during the other times - it's just that you're able to fucking try. and honestly, whenever you show symptoms, it's a really fucking bad sign.

because the symptoms you have are ugly and unmanageable for others. your symptoms aren't waifish white girl things. they're annoying and complicated. they will be the subject of so many pretentious instagram reels. if they cared about you, they'd just show up on time. you care, a lot, so deeply it burns you. you like to picture a world where the comments read if they loved you, they'd never need glasses to see. but since that's a rule you've seen repeated - "one must never be late or you are a bad friend" - you constantly worry about being late and leave agonizingly early. there are no words for how you feel when you're still late; no matter how hard you were trying.

so you have to make up for it. you have to make up for that little horrible real you that you keep locked in a cabinet. you are bad at answering emails so every project you make has to be perfect. you are weird and sensitive so you have to learn to be funny and interesting. you are an inconvenience to others, so you become as smooth as possible, buffing out all the rough parts.

all this. all this. so people can pass their hands over you and just tell you just the once -how good you are. you're a good friend. you're loveable.

[palajae]

love me (k)not. | 1k special

PAIRING ▸ niki x reader, slight jungwon x reader

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

WORD COUNT▸ 15.6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

a perfect little knot wrapped around her smallest finger. 

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

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

“what are the red strings for?”

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

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

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

“just like the ones grandpa told you about?”

he remembers exactly what he responded back with. 

“yes.”

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

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

their soulmate connections. 

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

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

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

do you see a red string? yes. 

can you see who it is connected to? yes. 

is it to each other? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and riki’s red string himself? 

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

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

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

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

ii. eros and psyche. 

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

don’t tell anyone about your abilities.

especially don’t tell anyone about their soulmate. 

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

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

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

needless to say, the first few days were rough. 

quite hard. 

very hard. 

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

which, he was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

all day. all week. on repeat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“no thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“or what?” they mock. 

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

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

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

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

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

“i said-“

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

that was the first time. 

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

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

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

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

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

“you good?”

riki shrugs, about to turn away. 

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

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

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

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

you clear your throat. “and yours is?” 

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

riki, you contemplate thoughtfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he looks up. “which one?”

you sigh, taking out a binder. 

“history.”

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

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

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

you raise your eyebrows, ready to retort. 

“ you’re smart too, nishimura riki.”

“-if you stopped watching anime all day.”

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

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

“you wanna hang out after class?”

“no.”

you pout. “why not?”

he shrugs. “ask my mom.”

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

he has to stay silent at that. 

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

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

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

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

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

“so you literally just see the strings?”

oh, yeah. 

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

“yeah. i see it.”

“everyday? all the time?”

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

“really?”

“no, stupid.” 

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

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

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

“can you touch them?”

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m kidding-“

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

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

he swallows, and you quickly clear your throat. 

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

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

he had no clue and that scared him even more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“close your eyes,” you order. 

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

“all done.” 

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

a simple, silver chain wraps around his thin wrist. 

pretty. 

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

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

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

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

“do you like it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what did it mean? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that string was connected to yours. 

that string meant your soulmate just walked into the classroom—

and it certainly wasn’t riki. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n….you haven’t heard?”

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

the next thing you remember, is your heart dropping. 

“niki’s leaving.” 

riki…leaving you? 

“what do you mean?”

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

you zone out after that. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

everyone except you. 

he’s gone and he left you alone. 

as if you ever hoped to see him again. 

iii. welcome to the world.

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

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

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

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

maybe photos didn’t make you feel as alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he claps his hands together, almost startling you. 

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

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

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

why did you have such a bad feeling? 

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

it’s foreign yet familiar at the same time. 

you pause. his face…

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

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

that’s when it hits you. 

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

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

your heart drops. no. 

it’s not. it can’t be.

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

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

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

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

“you’ll be working with him for the-“

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

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

not after all this time-

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

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

he exists, perfectly alive and well without you. 

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

unless he never really left. 

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

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

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

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

was there even anything left between you two? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you interrupt him impatiently while still avoiding eye contact. 

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

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

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

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

what a wonderful first day. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“please. not now.” 

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

how much longer could you keep doing this? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y-y/n.” 

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

“are you going to the break room?”

you nod again. 

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

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

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

you frown. “i’ve changed, riki.” 

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

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

you turn to leave but he grabs your wrist. 

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

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

even more importantly, why he came back. 

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

you wait two, three seconds before turning around, 

and sticking your hand out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“huh?” 

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

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

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

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

wait- date? 

“-y/n?” 

you glance up, startled. “yeah?”

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

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

you wondered how you got to this point. 

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

your teenage self would have been dumbfounded. 

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

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

“how did you get into photography?”

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

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

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

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

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

you see his ears turn red as he coughs shyly. 

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

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

iv. cupid’s attack. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“that includes you.”

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

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

only you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

riki lets out a short laugh. 

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

ever since he came back. 

you look down at your hands. 

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

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

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

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

you hate how your voice quivers at the end. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what you really meant to say was, 

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

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

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

you falter at that. 

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

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

“just like i promised all those years ago.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“that’s all?”

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

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

riki’s smile grows–

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

–and it immediately drops at that.  

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

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

you obviously see his change in demeanor at the topic. 

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

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

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

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

he shakes his head vehemently. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

that was it. riki really tried. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“are you okay? sorry i lost you-“

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

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

but oh no, it doesn’t stop there. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

v. the thin line between love and hate. 

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

“hm? what’s this for?”

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

the warming of your heart falls flat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“focus, riki!”

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

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

“stop disturbing the others!” you scold. 

“i think you should tell his feet that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sorry…” 

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

a distinct pair of eyes blink back at you. 

wait a second… 

“no way. yang jungwon?”

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

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

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

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

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

“sorry jungwon, i have to get going.” 

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

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

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

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

“what took so long?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it’s not like he liked you… right? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you look really nice.”

“thanks,” you smile, “so do you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you completely forgot. 

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

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

“riki, please let me-“ 

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

“we need to talk.” 

you bite your lip. 

“jungwon, i… think you should go.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you cross your arms, facing an agitated riki. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

just your name. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“r-riki?”

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

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

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

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

“please. never leave me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

yang jungwon liked you. it was obvious. 

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

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

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

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

so that was his father, he remembers thinking. 

riki never liked him.

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

riki remembers the exact words. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’ve always loved you.”

and exhale. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“y/n, where is this-“

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

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

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

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

ignoring him, you nod thoughtfully. “okay.”

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

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

he looks a bit surprised. 

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

you sigh, looking out the window again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“come on, i’ll walk you home.” 

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

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

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

“how was it?” 

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

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

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

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

because the only destiny he had was one with you. 

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

and he smiles. 

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

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[cripplecharacters]

Writing Intellectually Disabled Characters

[large text: writing intellectually disabled characters]

Something that very rarely comes up in disability media representation are intellectually disabled characters. There is very little positive representation in media in general (and basically none in media meant specifically for adults or in YA). I hope this post can maybe help someone interested in writing disabled characters understand the topic better and create something nice. This is just a collection of thoughts of only one person with mild ID (me) and I don't claim to speak for the whole community as its just my view. This post is meant to explain how some parts of ID work and make people aware of what ID is.

This post is absolutely not meant for self diagnosis (I promise you would realize before seeing a Tumblr post about it. it's a major disorder that gets most people thrown into special education).

Before: What is (and isn't) intellectual disability?

ID is a single, life-long neurodevelopment condition that affects IQ and causes problems with reasoning, problem‑solving, remembering and planning things, abstract thinking and learning. There is often delay or absence of development milestones like walking (and other kinds of movement), language and self care skills (eating, going to the bathroom, washing, getting dressed etc). Different people will struggle with different things to different degrees. I am, for example, still fully unable to do certain movements and had a lot of delay in self-care, but I had significantly less language-related delay than most of people with ID I know. Usually the more severe a person's ID is the more delay they will have.

Intellectual disability is one single condition and it doesn't make sense to call it "intellectual disabilities" (plural) or "an intellectual disability". It would be like saying "they have a Down Syndrome" or "he has autisms". The correct way would be "she has intellectual disability" or "ze is intellectually disabled".

Around 1-3% of people in the world have intellectual disability and most have mild ID (as opposed to moderate, severe, or profound). It can exist on its own without any identifiable condition or it can be a part of syndrome. There is over a thousand (ranging from very common to extremely rare) conditions that can cause ID but some of the most common are;

Down Syndrome,

Fragile X Syndrome,

Fetal Alcohol Syndrome,

Autism,

Edwards Syndrome,

DiGeorge Syndrome,

Microcephaly.

Not every condition always causes ID and you can have one of the above conditions without having ID as long as it's not necessary diagnostic criteria to be met. For example around 30% of autistic people have ID, meaning that the rest 70% doesn't. It just means that it's comorbid often enough to be counted as a major cause but still, autistic ≠ intellectually disabled most of the time.

A lot of things that cause intellectual disability also come with facial differences, epilepsy, mobility-related disabilities, sensory disabilities, and limb differences. A lot, but not all, intellectually disabled people go to special education schools.

Intellectual disability isn't the same as brain damage. Brain damage can occur at any point of a person's life while ID always starts in or before childhood.

"Can My Character Be [Blank]?"

[large text: "Can my character be [blank]?"]

The difficulty with writing characters with intellectual disability is that unlike some other things you can give your character, ID will very directly impacts how your character thinks and behaves - you can't make the whole character and then just slap the ID label on them.

Intellectually disabled people are extremely diverse in terms of personality, ability, verbality, mobility... And you need to consider those things early because deciding that your character is nonverbal and unable to use AAC might be an issue if you're already in the middle of writing a dialogue scene.

For broader context, a person with ID might be fully verbal - though they would still probably struggle with grammar, what some words mean, or with general understanding of spoken/written language to some degree. Or they could also be non-verbal. While some non-verbal ID people use AAC, it's not something that works for everyone and some people rely on completely language-less communication only. There is also the middle ground of people who are able to speak, but only in short sentences, or in a way that's not fully understandable to people who don't know them. Some might speak in second or third person.

Depending on the severity of your character's disability they will need help with different tasks. For example, I'm mildly affected and only need help with "complex" tasks like shopping or taxes or appointments, but someone who is profoundly affected will probably need 24/7 care. It's not infantilization to have your character receive the help that they need. Disabled people who get help with bathing or eating aren't "being treated like children", they just have higher support needs than me or you. In the same vein, your character isn't "mentally two years old" or "essentially a toddler", they are a twenty-, or sixteen-, or fourty five-year old who has intellectual disability. Mental age isn't real. Intellectually disabled people can drink, have sex, smoke, swear, and a bunch of other things. A thirty year old disabled person is an adult, not a child!

An important thing is that a person with ID has generally bad understanding of cause-and-effect and might not make connections between things that people without ID just instinctively understand. For example, someone could see that their coat is in a different place than they left it, but wouldn't be able to deduce that then it means that someone else moved it or it wouldn’t even occur to them as a thing that was caused by something. I think every (or at least most) ID person struggles with this to some extent. The more severe someone's disability is the less they will be able to connect usually (for example someone with profound ID might not be able to understand the connection between the light switch and the light turning off and on).

People with mild intellectual disability have the least severe problems in functioning and some are able to live independently, have a job, have kids, stuff like that.

What Tropes Should You Avoid?

[large text: what tropes should you avoid?]

The comic relief/punching bag;

The predator/stalker;

The "you could change this character into a sick dog and there wouldn't be much difference";

...and a lot more but these are the most prevalent in my experience.

Most ID characters are either grossly villainized (more often if they have also physical disabilities or facial differences) or extremely dehumanized or ridiculed, or all of the above. It's rarely actually *mentioned* for a character to be intellectually disabled, but negative "representation" usually is very clear that this who they're attempting to portray. The portrayal of a whole group of people as primarily either violent predators, pitiful tragedies or nothing more than a joke is damaging and you probably shouldn't do that. It's been done too many times already.

When those tropes aren't used the ID character is still usually at the very most a side character to the main (usually abled) character. They don't have hobbies, favorite foods, movies or music they like, love interests, friends or pets of their own and are very lucky if the author bothered to give them a last name. Of course it's not a requirement to have all of these but when there is *no* characterization in majority of disabled characters, it shows. They also usually die in some tragic way, often sacrificing themselves for the main character or just disappear in some off-the-screen circumstances. Either way, they aren't really characters, they're more like cardboard cutouts of what a character should be - the audience has no way to care for them because the author has put no care into making the character interesting or likable at all. Usually their whole and only personality and character trait is that they have intellectual disability and it's often based on what the author thinks ID is without actually doing any research.

What Terms to Use and Not Use

[large text: What Terms to Use and Not Use]

Words like: "intellectually disabled" or "with/have intellectual disability" are terms used by people with ID and generally OK to use from how much I know. I believe more people use the latter (person first language) for themselves but i know people who use both. I use the first more often but I don't mind the second. Some people have strong preference with one over the other and that needs to be respected.

Terms like:

"cursed with intellectual disability"

"mentally [R-slur]"

"moron"

"idiot"

"feeble-minded"

"imbecile"

is considered at least derogatory by most people and I don't recommend using it in your writing. The last 5 terms directly come from outdated medical terminology specifically regarding ID and aren't just "rude", they're ableist and historically connected to eugenics in the most direct way they could be. To me personally they're highly offensive and I wouldn't want to read something that referred to its character with ID with those terms.

(Note: there are, in real life, people with ID that refer to themselves with the above... but this is still just a writing guide. Unless you belong to the group i just mentioned I would advise against writing that, especially if this post is your entire research so far.)

Things I Want to See More of in Characters with Intellectual Disability

[large text: Things I Want to See More of in Characters with Intellectual Disability]

[format borrowed from WWC]

I want to see more characters with intellectual disability that...

aren’t only white boys.

are LGBT+.

are adults.

are allowed to be angry without being demonized, and sad without being infantilized.

are not described as "mentally X years old".

are respected by others.

aren't "secretly smart" or “emotionally smart”.

are able to live independently with some help.

aren't able to live independently at all and aren't mocked for that.

are in romantic relationships or have crushes (interabled... or not!).

are non-verbal or semi-verbal.

use mobility aids and/or AAC.

have hobbies they enjoy.

have caregivers.

have disabilities related to their ID.

have disabilities completely unrelated to their ID.

have friends and family who like and support them.

go on cool adventures.

are in different genres: fantasy, romComs, action, slice of life... all of them.

have their own storylines.

aren't treated as disposable.

don't die or disappear at the first possible opportunity.

...and I want to see stories that have multiple intellectually disabled characters.

I hope that this list will give someone inspiration to go and make their first OC with intellectual disability ! This is just a basic overview to motivate writers to do their own research rather than a “all-knowing post explaining everything regarding ID”. I definitely don't know everything especially about the parts of ID that I just don't experience (or not as much as others). This is only meant to be an introduction for people who don't really know what ID is or where to even start.

Talk to people with intellectual disability (you can send ask here but there are also a lot of other people on Tumblr who have ID and I know at least some have previously answered asks as well if you want someone else's opinion!), watch/read interviews with people who have ID (to start - link1, link2, both have captions) and try to rethink what you think about intellectual disability. Because it's really not that rare like a lot of people seem to think. Please listen to us when we speak.

Good luck writing and thank you for reading :-) (smile emoji)

mod Sasza

[azuremist]

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

(AO3 Mirror)

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

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

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

What does it mean to be intellectually disabled?

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

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

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

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

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

Words

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

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

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

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

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

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

He considers it impossible to learn another language

His dream is to ‘live normally’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My life started in a wrong spot”

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

Finally, we have the trial song titles.

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

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

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

Imagery

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, why does this matter?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you!

[chaoticbardlady99]

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Synopsis: You have burnt both ends of the candle and haven’t been taking care of your mental health. Unable to get yourself out of bed, Astarion begins to worry about you…

Author note- I have been hardcore struggling with my mental health lately and writing my silly little fics has been the only thing pulling me along. I thought it might be therapeutic to write about my current feelings (I have ADHD, MDD, and GAD so it’s a party up in here). I hope you enjoy!

CW- Suicidal Ideation, symptoms of depression, brief outburst, mentions of mental health diagnosis and poor medical advice.

Title inspired by song “Into the Walls” by Griff.

*not my pic, could not tell you where I found it so I apologize in advance. If you think it might be your picture, please message me so I can give proper credit.

Your last day before backtracking from the Mountain Pass to the Goblin camp is a difficult one.

Not for the group as a whole- just you specifically.

Days before a Mindflayer kidnapped you, a healer back home had told you your brain was sick. You had been devastated- resigned to your miserable fate.

You had been struggling for years at that point with inconsistent motivation, exhaustion, nightmares, and irrational thoughts for months. You have been functional for the most part, but then an overpowering wave will hit you like Warhammer in the ribs and you are rendered useless until it passes.

The healer suggested sunlight, exercise, eating healthy, and spending time with friends to help your affliction when you hit rock bottom. You were wildly unimpressed with her. At the time, you preferred to self isolate so you stayed by yourself in the woods trying to find peace there. You would have to let her know that her “going out and enjoying the sun” message is not always wise- you may get a tadpole shoved in your head. You can’t be that mad though- the tadpole helped bring your pep back.

Anyway, you have been doing all of that for weeks now, you even felt great, but today? You could not have hit rock bottom harder even if you tried.

You woke up that morning unable to get yourself out of bed. It was a rest day so it wasn’t a big deal, but you also know that your companions are going to have things they need to talk to you about and favors they need you to take care of.

Gods you had tried to get up. You are grateful that your past self had the gumption to wash off and change into clean clothes last night, but your armor is still disgustingly sitting outside your tent and your hair is long and wild. You had wanted to braid it, but it all felt like too much work.

Everything feels like too much work right now- even staying awake- so you drift in and out of uncomfortable naps throughout the morning. No matter how many times you fall asleep, begging for relief from the painful brick wall sitting on your brain, it never leaves.

You can feel the midday breeze rustle your tent. You’ve been laying here for hours now. You are crying and you honestly aren’t sure why. You feel completely paralyzed by all the things you need to do to be ready for the Underdark.

You need to clean your armor, go over the Goblin Camp’s map with Wyll, find Gale a magical artifact, and probably comfort Lae’zel since she’s been branded a heretic- but you won’t. The shame and self loathing continues. You are a silly, worthless little human being.

Every person who knocks on your tent gets a simple, “I’m just not feeling well,” and then they walk away. You don’t know why it makes you more sad than appreciative. If you were in their shoes- you would be bending over backwards to make sure they had everything they needed and you wouldn’t let them feel alone. Then you resent yourself for feeling that way towards your companions- they don’t owe you anything and you were the one who chose to help them- you didn’t ask for anything in return. This is all your fault.

The only person who hadn’t come to visit you was Astarion- which hurt your heart just a little, enough that the numbness coursing thickly through your body wavered for a moment. You are quite smitten and he is obviously not. Another mistake to add to the swirling black hole your mind has fallen into.

You knew it was stupid to want his comfort and affections- you had merely slept together a little less than a week ago. Astarion has been quasi avoiding you ever since and when he does talk to you- he’s awkward. You constantly look for flying pigs- Astarion feeling awkward or being awkward is unheard of.

You have come to accept that you were just some tryst and obviously he hadn’t enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

Astarion isn’t to blame and the situation itself certainly didn’t contribute to the sudden lack of emotions. You knew that you were on the verge of a mental collapse sooner rather than later, but you had foolishly hoped you wouldn’t be alone through it. It feels less all consuming when you try to find a reason. It’s more comfortable to know than it is to give up and say, “my brain is fucked and there isn’t a damn thing I can do so I guess I’m stuck here.”

You are jolted out of your thoughts by another knock on your tent.

“I’m sick,” you say flatly.

“Ha- you act like that will deter me. I can’t even get sick, Darling.”

Before you even have time to register that Astarion is on the other side of your tent- he pushes his way through the flaps and stares down at you in confusion. And… concern?

Astarion steps inside and kneels down next to you- scanning you for evidence of illness or injury.

“I suppose I had been worried for nothing,” he smiles sweetly at you, “you are totally fine. Come on Darling, you have to get up and eat. Wyll is fumbling with that map.”

You look at him and begin to cry. Astarion’s face lights up with alarm.

“What- what did I do!?”

“Please don’t make me,” you sob, “I just want a break. I’m so tired. I want to lay in this bed forever and never leave, but there is so much to do and it’s paralyzing.”

You continue to cry and you cover yourself with the extra blanket- successfully hiding your face.

“Go away,” you whisper, “I need to be left alone.”

You say it, but you are far from meaning it. You want him to stay- to hold you- but he doesn’t want you so it will only make everything hurt worse once the numbness fades away.

You wait for several moments and then you hear him leave. Your silent cry turns into choked sobs and your body is shaking from the pain you are in. The numbness hurts. The numbness tells you that you shouldn’t be alive.

Maybe you shouldn’t be.

Everyone here would be able to figure it out on their own (eventually) and you would finally be free. Free of your uncomfortable brain, free of your ugly body- free of the expectations of others. You would no longer be holding them back like you are today- like you will again in the future.

You are sure they would temporarily grieve you, but that was the deal with this whole journey. You had all accepted that one of you or all of you could die at any moment. You will just put them in more danger by being here…

You shake the thought from your head, violently- your head is pounding from the growing tension headache and dehydration. The tears eventually stop and you just… well, lay in bed again. You stare blankly at a book over in the corner. You keep trying to convince yourself to get up and read the damn thing- do literally ANYTHING else than just stay here in your bedroll.

Instead, you fall asleep.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up to someone knocking on your tent post. You grumble incoherently, covering your head and you hear your unexpected guest sit down next to you. The smell of food fills the tent and your stomach grumbles.

“You need to eat, my Dear,” Astarion says softly.

You are stunned to hear his voice grace your ears. You slowly pull the blanket down to just below your eyes and look at him. Astarion looks distressed, like he doesn’t want to be here. Why would he? You’re a nuisance.

You sit up gingerly and grab the bowl from him. You manage to give him a lopsided smile.

“Thanks. You don’t need to stay, I will be fine on my own,” you say apathetically, staring into the broth.

“I want to stay,” he says, “if you’ll have me.”

The expression on his face is unreadable, but he seems genuine. You nod, your lips pressed together tightly. You eat as much as you feel like while Astarion studies you.

Usually your anxiety is at an all time high (in maybe one of the better ways) when you are around Astarion- he gives you butterflies, butterflies, and even more butterflies. Usually your heart is racing in his presence, but right now you just feel empty.

“Where is your hairbrush?” Astarion asks.

You frown with confusion, “it’s in my bag, why?”

Astarion gets up and goes over to the bag- digging out a few items. He pulls out a lantern, your hairbrush, and a hair tie. Astarion comes over to you and sits down behind you. You feel him gather up the stray pieces of your hair and get to work.

Astarion runs his fingers through your scalp and your tangled hair- the feeling is soothing and it opens something inside of you. Your body shakes silently with sobs and you feel the worm behind your eyes wiggle as Astarion asks for access. You aren’t sure.

“I want to understand,” Astarion says, “please.”

His voice is so raw and desperate- you swallow thickly before allowing him to explore your current emotional state. The silence in the tent is palpable and you feel tense, uncomfortable even. No one has ever cared for you while you are in this state before.

You feel him continue his hairbrushing after he exits your mind. Astarion leaves soft kisses on your shoulder as he gently pulls apart every knot. It helps- you realize- to feel cared for. The numbness still hurts, you still hurt, but it’s nice to not feel so alone.

After Astarion is done brushing your hair, you feel his delicate fingers begin to intricately braid your hair. You wonder when he learned how to do hair.

“Leon’s daughter, Victoria, used to ask me to braid her hair all the time,” Astarion says in a bittersweet voice as if reading your mind, “I picked it up so that she would stop bugging me about it. She said and I quote, ‘you have the perfect braiding hands!’”

You smile to yourself tenderly, “That’s very kind of you, Star. I am sure she appreciated it as much as I appreciate it now.”

You feel Astarion’s hands falter at your words and you are unsure if you have upset him or not. A pregnant pause occurs before Astarion finally clears his throat and goes back to braiding your hair.

“I’m glad that I can help,” Astarion’s delicate, vulnerable words hang in the air, “I’ve… been worried about you today.”

You feel positively flustered and bad for making him feel that way.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about silly ole me! This happens sometimes” you make your voice chirpier than it needs to be, “This is actually the longest I’ve gone for a long time without this happening. I have theorized that the tadpole might help which is kinda cool- I think?”

You laugh awkwardly- desperate to ease his worry.

“How often does this happen?”

Shit. That was the winning question wasn’t it? Astarion will surely never see you as anything less than broken now.

“I’m not really sure,” your voice comes out in a whisper, “I usually always feel a bit of it all the time, but it’s manageable. I function very well regardless.”

“But this one isn’t manageable and evidently you aren’t functional right now.”

You sigh, “No, it isn’t and no, I’m not.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing,” you say, maybe too harshly, “that’s the part that drives me crazy. Yesterday was incredible- I was on top of the whole world, felt like dancing and screaming from the rooftops, but today!?”

You inhale and hold back the muted scream that wants to fill the air.

“Today,” you hiss, “I don’t even want to deal with any of this shit anymore. I’m so fucking tired. There is too much to fucking do and too many people depending on me. Then everyone gets irritated with me if I ask to push off their problems so I persevere through it despite knowing I’m getting bad again. I’m a giant stinking trash heap that everyone keeps adding more to.”

Astarion finishes braiding your hair and presses your back to his chest, pulling you into him. He puts his arms around your waist and settles his chin and face in between the crook of your neck.

“I just feel like such a nuisance all the time- no matter how hard I push myself to prove I’m not. Sometimes I think everyone would be better off if I just… went away.”

You both sit there quietly. At some point he had taken one of your hands in his and he was tracing shapes into the back of it with his thumb. Your omission still hangs heavily in the air.

“I wouldn’t be better off,” Astarion says hotly, “I’d be stuck with all these weirdos by myself. That would be truly miserable, Darling.”

You shake your head, a half smile on your face.

“And besides- you are not even close to a nuisance,” Astarion states, leaving a kiss on your cheek, “at least you aren’t in constant need of magical objects to eat or blood to drink. Oh and you don’t require a painstaking amount of searching to prevent you from literally burning everyone alive.

“Oh and did I forget to mention, we have not one, but two women who despise each other and follow hateful Goddesses which was a fun choice for whatever sick bastard twisted our fates this way.”

You laugh breathily, closing your eyes and letting the sound defrost some of your insides.

“What I’m saying is- I think you are the least of everyone’s ‘nuisances’, my Darling,” he says, squeezing you tighter to his chest, “despite how little you think of yourself. We ne- no, I want you to stay. I know everyone else would say the same, but I must emphasize that I would be horribly distraught if you disappeared. Hells I’d even pay to have you resurrected.”

You gasp playfully, your voice falling slightly flat, “You? The most frugal man I have ever met would pay 200 gold coins to ‘Strike thy name from the record’?”

Your impression of Withers gets Astarion to genuinely laugh- the sound vibrating in your chest. You lean into him and he guides you back to laying down. Astarion entangles his legs with yours as he holds you tightly- your faces are mere centimeters apart. You love the way Astarion smells- rosemary, bergamot, and brandy. You wish you could be wrapped up in him forever. You are still in pain- everything still hurts and feels too difficult, but right now it feels a little less heavy.

“I would throw bags of Gold Coins at that corpse out of revenge, my Dear,” he teases, “you couldn’t possibly think I would ever let you rest peacefully in your grave- I would be far too angry with you and unhappy without you to let that happen.”

You lay there and despite yourself, you lean forward and leave butterfly kisses along his cheeks with your lashes. Astarion scrunches up his nose reflexively and smiles at you. You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips.

“Thank you Astarion- for everything.”

You close your eyes as he traces circles along your lower back. Your eyes begin to droop, and you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

When you wake up the next morning- you are disappointed to find that you are all alone in your tent. The heavy numbness is still there and you sigh. At least last night made it more bearable.

You look on the side where Astarion had been sleeping and find a note with a bottle attached to it. You pick it up and begin to read.

Tav,

Astarion had asked me about herbs for some relief regarding mental discomforts. I unfortunately don’t know many, but this is a mixture of St. John’s Wort, Valerian Root, and Ashwagandha. Historically, I know these have been used to alleviate emotional and mental pain.

Astarion didn’t tell me why he was asking, but I deduced it was you pretty quickly when he began shooing everyone away from your tent this morning.

I hope this helps- we are all here if you need us. May Silvanus light your path as you navigate this difficult time.

-Halsin

You sit in your own stunned silence for what feels like hours. Halsin knows and he wants to help? Halsin doesn’t think you are screwed or a nuisance? The man barely even knows you!

You are a bit embarrassed, but you can’t help but laugh at the image of Astarion telling everyone to leave you alone.

You open the bottle and a pleasant, earthy smell fills the tent. You drink the mixture (that definitely does not taste anywhere near as pleasant as it smells) and you do feel a slight bit better. Your apathy feels even more tolerable now. You will have to thank Halsin.

You slowly rise from your tent and look around. Everything is packed up neatly in the corner- your clothes from the previous day are folded nicely and you notice all the holes are sewn up.

You jump when someone enters your tent abruptly- the midday sun warming your skin. You turn around and Astarion is smiling at you, but looks nervous.

“I cleaned off your armor and your weapons,” he says awkwardly, scratching the back of his head, “I also packed up your stuff- as you can see. We have to start leaving unfortunately, but I’ll help you get on your armor like I usually do- I might still need help with mine though, but I can ask someone else if it’s too much for you right now. Lae’zel and Karlach offered to pack up your tent. Wyll and Shadowheart figured out the map- Wyll is going to be our ‘fearless’ leader for the day. Gale has some food for you to snack on while we travel- which you will be eating, by the way.”

Astarion is looking at you with a vulnerable expression on his face. He plays nervously with the gold coin in his hands.

You can hardly believe what you are hearing.

“Did- did you do all this for me?” You say with disbelief.

You never thought Astarion was capable of smiling shyly until he had admitted to you that you had been his first thinking creature- you certainly never thought you’d see him become shy twice in your presence.

“I did and it wasn’t a nuisance so don’t even begin to worry about that,” He walks over to you, gently cradling your face in his hands, “I hope this is all okay.”

You smile- the first genuine feeling of happiness you’ve felt in the last 24 hours gently sparks in your chest as you stare up at him. You get up on your tiptoes and bridge the gap between your lips.

“Thank you Astarion, this is perfect- you are perfect,” you are crying tears of joy, “this is the kindest gesture anyone has ever made for me. So just, thank you.”

“Of course, Darling,” he says smiling in between kisses, “I won’t let you lose to yourself. We’ll get through this together from now on- no more hiding.”

And for once? You actually believe someone.

-if you guys like this, please let me know if you would want a part two written from Astarion’s perspective.

Update- I did the thing you silly geese

https://www.tumblr.com/chaoticbardlady99/735969926279528448/i-took-all-this-love-i-found-and-i-hope-that-its

Tag-list: @spacebarbarianweird @domainoflostsouls

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Satisfied

James Wilson x reader

description - Y/n reveals some of her...hobbies.

word count - 800

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN - request here

(my fave Wilson picture!)

*your pov*

“Wait!” I came running in to see Cameron and Foreman attempting to pry the woman off the man she was ‘strangling’. I managed to pull them off of her, both equally surprised by my actions in stopping them. I also held my hand out to stop the woman from doing anything that would incriminate her further.

“This isn’t what you think it is.” I directed towards the two doctors, I then turned to face the woman who stood ashamed. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

**********************************************************************

“She’s his dominatrix.”

I announced to House and his minions. I stood front and centre as they looked at me in disbelief.

“They both participate in BDSM, I’m assuming a classic dom and sub relationship. Harvey clearly takes pleasure in masochism and she indulges this as his dom. Hence the strangling which I think she did to calm him down.”

The open mouths around the room could have caught flies. I was confused by their reaction so merely stood kicking my feet waiting for them to regain their ability to speak.

“I’m sorry, how do you know this?” Foreman questioned his face betraying his complete shock at my statements.

“I wasn’t sure at first but there was something in the way they related to each other and their stances around the other. Also I’ve seen her at a few parties.” I simply stated in response.

“Your life is amazing!” House excitedly added. “Now at these parties did you do any girl on girl action? Medically speaking.” He questioned me with a mischevious glint.

“I don’t know how answering that is relevant to the case at hand.” I teased back at him knowing he would understand the affirmation in my tone.

House stood up and came to my side before whining out. “Wilson is so lucky!” Like a child who was jealous of their friends new bike. I smiled at the mention of my boyfriend and then rolled my eyes at his playful quips.

“Anyways, that’s what I came to offer.” I skipped out of the room to leave them to their diagnosis.

**********************************************************************

“Hands up who’s turned on.” House asked the room once Y/n had left. He shot his hand up and was quickly joined by Chase. Cameron glared at him.

“What?” He innocently asked. She jutted her chin out and collected up her papers to leave in a huff. Glaring at House as well as she left.

“What a square.” House announced to Chase and Foreman.

**********************************************************************

*your pov*

I was flicking through my files at the nurses station when I felt a pair of strong arms embrace me from behind. James had his head buried in my neck and gave the skin a quick kiss. We were never ones for extreme PDA in the office, so the exchange lasted less than a second before he was around at my side to properly converse with me.

“You on House’s stroke case now? I saw you in the room.” James inquired.

“No, just had to offer some specialist assistance.” I sing songed back.

“And what specialist assistance would that be, my darling?” He indulged in my evasive responses. Leaning in close so our lips were ever so close.

“It merely involved one of the patients…specific hobbies.” I pretended to think hard about my word choice. I winked at him on the last word.

He took my full meaning and struggled to hide his grin at the beautiful and exciting girl he’d managed to get.

There was a tap on my shoulder and I whipped around and was met with Chase.

“Dr Y/l/n, may I speak with you for a moment.” He seemed cocky and looked between James and I. I decided to coddle his intentions and agreed. He directed me a few feet a way. James watched my retreating form and kept an eye on the conversation, not liking the look in Chase’s eye.

“I just wanted to say, y/n, that I have also from time to time indulged in the pleasurable acts you described to House.” He flirtingly stated, his voice a low whisper. He placed his hand on the wall next to us and used it as leverage to lean in.

“I see.” I could barely contain my giggle at where I suspected the line of questioning was going.

“So, if things ever get too boring with grandpa over there,” He jutted his chin towards James. “I’m always up for a bit of alone time.” He winked at me.

I let out a small giggle but quickly righted myself. I stalked closer towards him and I saw him shrink at my intimidating movement.

“Oh believe me,” I placed my lips directly next to his ear. “I am plenty satisfied.”

I strutted away relishing in his flustered state. I once again was in front of James.

“What was that a—” I pulled him into a deep kiss by his collar.

[tightjeansjavi]

Slow Hands | Chapter 4

“I used to float, now I just fall down”

A/N: so I already forewarned that this was going to be a particularly heavy chapter. I also just want to say that I don’t claim to be a medical expert on the effects trauma can have on a person. I also do not self diagnose, but I did a lot of research on the reasoning behind why Beanie doesn’t have any recollection of what happened to her. I specifically researched‘dissociative amnesia’ caused by trauma. Some of the symptoms may include a person forgetting part or all of the traumatic event, and having a ‘foggy’ memory of trauma, or feeling like ‘it didn’t happen to you.’ However, even if you are unable to recall specific details, your body still does which would explain Beanie’s flight or fight response to specific sounds. Depending on the person, your body may associate certain sounds, sights, and smells to a specific traumatic event. Thank you for reading 🤎

~word count: 4.1k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: while on patrol, Tommy and Joel make a gruesome discovery.

Warnings: disturbing/distressing themes that may be harmful to some viewers. Please do not read if this kind of content upsets you. Violence, dead bodies, talk of the past, mention of murder, mentions of guns, mentions of chains, implied S/A by raiders, women held captive, trauma, trauma triggers, PTSD, possible diagnosis of dissociative amnesia (I do not claim to be an expert and just did some heavy research to make it accurately depicted in the story), protective! Joel, Beanie dissociates on her rooftop, implied suicidal thoughts, implied depression, isolation, some fluff towards the end, Joel is incredibly gentle with beanie, no age gap, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is beanie (coffee beans) +18, minors dni! Please heed the warnings!

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“What the hell do ya mean she doesn’t know what fuckin’ happened to herself? What does that even mean,Tommy?!” Joel was visibly frustrated, confused, and bewildered. His mind was already running circles as he tried to piece together what he knew about you. He was desperate to grasp some context clues that would ultimately lead to a conclusion as to what had happened to you. He gently pulled back on his horse's reins between a cluster of snow dusted evergreens.

Tommy, however, kept his horse moving and this frustrated Joel even further.

“Don’t you fuckin’ walk away from me like you’re deaf or somethin’ ,Tommy!”

The younger Miller brother cursed under his breath as he halted his horse a few strides ahead of Joel. Both brothers were deathly silent. Tommy rolled his shoulders, appearing to try and relieve some stress and tension that was building up. He gently pulled the inside rein towards his torso as he turned his horse around. “Would you fuckin’ keep your goddamn voice down? This is exactly why I don’t want to discuss this with you, Joel.”

“You think I give a damn? What, you just expect me to go ‘bout my business when she crumbled into my arms this morning?’ Tommy, you know me, you know I ain’t gonna let this go.” Joel’s tone was far softer now. His frustrations were still simmering below the surface like that of a once dormant volcano that was gradually becoming active once more.

“Look, Maria and I have our own assumptions about what happened to her. When we found her..she was in pretty fuckin’ rough shape. She was most likely traveling for days without food or water Joel. She was barely breathin’, and for a moment we thought she was long gone.”

“Well, that ain’t all surprising..considerin’ we’re livin’ in an apocalypse Tommy.” Joel fought the urge to scoff under his breath. Tommy wasn’t giving him a straight answer and he wasn’t having any of it.

“That ain’t the fuckin’ point, Joel. Maria..she found somethin’ on her.” Tommy trailed off as he focused anywhere but his brother’s face.

“Tommy, what the hell did she find? Spit it out, or so help me god–” He nearly growled out as his jaw clenched harshly under the pale white moonlight.

“Someone tried to fuckin’ carve her up. That’s what.” Tommy deadpanned.

“what?” Joel could feel the bile rise in his throat at this newfound utterly disturbing information. His pupils were blown wide and an unsettling chill rolled down his spine.

“You fuckin’ heard me. Some sick fucks tried to carve her up. Maria and I both think it was raiders.”

“..like us?” Joel’s question hung heavy in the air as both Miller brothers slowly looked over at one another. There was nothing for them to hide. They had both done unspeakable things to countless people. Some people deserved it..others? Not so much. Joel knew it would be impossible for him to wipe all of his sins and carnage completely clean. His moral compass had been skewed after Sarah died. His actions were fueled by rage and indescribable pain. But even though he was a murderer, and he,Tommy, and Tess committed heinous crimes together, even they had their limits.

“No, Joel. Not like us. We didn’t fuckin’ carve people up.” Tommy shook his head with a heavy sigh. Maria didn’t know half of the shit he had done to survive, and he hoped to god she would never find out.

“No, you’re right. We didn’t carve people up, but we did some terrible fuckin’ things, Tommy.” There was a heaviness in Joel’s voice that lingered in the frosty air.

“Yeah, we did. Endure and survive, right?” Tommy responded with a bitter laugh that slowly crept up his throat.

“So, when you say that they tried to carve her up..”

“Maria found a knife wound that pretty much wraps all the way up her torso and back. It was, and is gruesome.”

“Fuck.” Joel breathed out a puff of air as his heart began to hang heavy in his chest. “She doesn’t remember any of it?”

“No. We actually had Doc check her out after we brought her in, and he thinks she might have dissociative amnesia. He said it’s commonly found in patients that have dealt with an excessive form of trauma. Essentially, her brain is blocking out certain events to protect itself. He of course doesn’t know for sure, but that’s the best explanation he could give as to why she has a foggy memory of what happened to her. He also..thinks there’s a chance that she was heavily drugged for an extended period of time, which could have also led to her memory essentially being botched. That wasn’t..all that Doc found. He also said that after doing a full body exam–”

Joel cut him off immediately like a sharp knife slicing through a hunk of meat. “Stop. Not another word, Tommy. Not another fuckin’ word.” Joel whispered harshly under his breath. He could only imagine the hell you went through. God help those motherfuckers if he ever got his hands on them.

“All this is to say that she may never fully recover those memories. Frankly? It’s probably for the best. I’m entrustin’ you with this information, Joel. And I need you to promise me that you’re not going to go and ask her questions. I need you to bite your fuckin’ tongue on this one. Alright? Jus’ be her friend. Jus’ be there for her.”

Joel wanted to laugh. He wanted to bitterly laugh and shake his fists to the heavens above because how in the hell was he supposed to just deal with the guilt of having some form of knowledge on what happened to you. How was he supposed to look you in the eyes without imagining the horrors that you faced? How was he supposed to pretend?

“Tommy, you know I can’t–”

“I don’t give a damn on what you think you can’t do, Joel. I’m not about to let you or anyone for that matter go and traumatize that poor woman even more. Maria started treatin’ her different than everyone else at one point, and Beanie came to me one day and wanted to know why. I had to sit down with Maria and practically beg her to just treat her like a normal person. Folks ‘round here either think she’s the nutty coffee woman, or some fragile piece of china that is gonna shatter at any minute. She ain’t either of those things, but hey, I guess even an apocalypse can’t stop people from havin’ their judgements.”

“For the record, Tommy, I don’t think she’s either of those things either. Quirky? Sure. She’s better than half the folks in town. That is for damn certain.”

“Exactly. So just treat her like a normal person. Don’t go and try to be her savior either. She ain’t need savin. She just needs a friendly face that understands her.”

“I have a friendly face?” Joel murmured with a soft chuckle to alleviate the tension.

“Hardly, big brother.” Tommy softly joked back.

“So, just so I got this all straight, Doc said that he thinks she might have..dissociative amnesia..but then what about her triggers? Does he know about her episodes? Cus’ she looked at me like I was gonna fuckin’ hurt her. If her brain is tryin’ to block out the trauma..her body is still actively experiencing it?” Joel asked as he gently nudged his horse’s side to walk forward.

“Y’know how you have your own triggers? I’m thinkin’ that she does as well. However, hers are most likely associated with noise. When we first brought her in we had her stay at our place for awhile..and there was one mornin’ I was up early putzin’ around the kitchen and I guess the sound of a pan clatterin’ in the sink freaked her out. She kept tellin’ Maria someone was out to get her, but when Maria asked who, she couldn’t answer.”

“Well..that explains what happened this mornin.’ I jus’ uh—wanted to do somethin’ nice for her so I was shovelin’ her walkway. Maybe the sound of the shovel scrapin’ on the concrete triggered her?”

“Well, chivalry ain’t dead. That’s for damn sure. Yeah, I’m sure it triggered her flight or fight response. She wasn’t logically able to decipher what the noise actually was. Y’know, I'm pretty sure Doc has some books on this stuff if you wanna read up on it.”

Joel was just about to respond when his horse let out a nervous snort and pawed at the ground with his hoof. Horses were incredibly intuitive creatures. They could sense danger from a mile away.

Both Tommy and Joel were already grasping their rifles in a fight response. There was a drifting odor of smoke from a fire..at first Joel thought it was just a typical wood burning fire, until the putrid stench of rotting flesh hit his olfactory senses and it brought him right back to living in the QZ. His eyes watered, and his lungs burned. No doubt in his mind that there was a raider camp nearby.

“We should turn back right fuckin’ now Joel. We should go find the others—” Tommy hissed under his breath.

“No. We’re gonna go investigate. Lucas and Cody probably already detected the smoke as well. This ain’t the first time you and I have gone into somethin’ together. You cover me, and I’ll cover you. Deal?” It was incredible how fast Joel was able to switch back into survival mode. It was embedded deep within his bones, and it didn’t take much for it to be clawing right through his skin. He had been the hunter, more times than he had been the prey.

“If we’re outnumbered, then we split. Got it?” Tommy wasn’t about to go and risk his life tonight.

“Got it.” Joel agreed.

The raiders camp was only a few miles to the east from Jackson. The smoke was billowing high in the air as Joel and Tommy used the snowy evergreens as cover. They had since dismounted from their horses and continued on foot. The camp they stumbled upon was freshly abandoned..but why keep the fire going? Was the first thought that crossed both Joel and Tommy’s minds. They had the barrel of their rifles aimed at the ready as they cautiously crept through the camp. The smell of rotting flesh only began to intensify as they neared the source of the fire.

What they stumbled upon was nothing short of gruesome. Five bodies in total stacked upon chopped down logs. It was difficult to make out facial features, as the deceased bodies were charred to a crisp. One thing was for certain, these people were not infected.

“Were they killed for sport?” Tommy questioned as Joel slowly crouched down next to a body that wasn’t as scorched completely. He could make out feminine features and long follicles of hair. He could feel the bile churn deep in the pit of his stomach as he looked away and pressed his face into the collar of his jacket to try and block out the smell. “These are women, Tommy. Five of ‘em. All dead.”

“Jesus fuck. What the hell happened here?” Lucas and Cody had smelled the fire as well. They were in utter disbelief as they approached the slow burning fire.

“Raiders.” Joel muttered under his breath as he slowly stood back up. His knees cracked from the movement as he grinded his teeth together to block out the uncomfortable tightness in his back.

“Were they infected?” Lucas had asked.

“No. They were just..people.” Tommy somberly confirmed.

Silence washed over the four men as they retreated from the fire. Joel kicked at a pair of heavy chains that laid upon the ground with his boot. “These women were prisoners.”

“We need to put this fire out, and then report back to Maria immediately. She’s goin’ to want to hear about this, and I already know she ain’t gonna be happy.” Tommy muttered as he slung his rifle strap along his shoulder.

“Tommy, we can’t just leave them here. They deserve a proper burial. They deserve to be laid to rest..” Joel couldn’t help but wonder how long these five women were enslaved. Could they have been saved if the patrol group had left earlier? Five lives could have been saved if only he had just—

“Joel, I hear you brother, but the ground is too hard. We can’t bury them. I’m sorry.” Tommy was sorry. These five women deserved better. He wanted to be able to bring them peace as well, but some things were just not possible.

“Fine. I’ll fuckin’ do it myself.” Joel snapped as he slung his rifle strap over his shoulder in one swift movement. He started the trek back to his horse while Lucas and Cody kicked a bit of snow over the dying embers.

Joel returned with a blanket from his saddle bag. He was going to attempt to move the bodies, but he was afraid that their charred bones would shatter. Instead he gently laid the blanket over their remains. He stood there for a good solid five minutes just staring down at the snow covered earth with a clenched jaw, before he finally walked away.

For the entirety of the somber ride back to Jackson, Joel was dead silent.

It had felt like months had passed since you had last seen Joel Miller. In all actuality, it had only been one month. Your brain was just going all doomsday mode on you and convincing you it had been longer. At first you had tricked yourself in believing that maybe Joel didn’t actually want to be your friend. Maybe he was just lying. Maybe he too thought of you as just the nutty coffee woman. It wasn’t till Maria had given you a surprise visit to your little coffee shop. While she was quietly sipping on her latte, you couldn’t help but ask if she had seen Joel lately. You felt slightly pathetic with a sprinkle of naivety. Were you really that desperate for human connection?

“I assigned him, Tommy and a few other men to patrol the late night shift. They stumbled upon something in the woods, and brought it to my attention. Now, before you start freaking out, we are safe here. What they found was just concerning, and they’re making sure that there is no active threat that we need to pay any concern to.”

You paused the movements of the towel below your palm as you were wiping down the countertop. “Oh. I thought maybe he just..nevermind. What exactly did they find in the woods that was concerning, Maria?”

“Beanie, you know I can’t disclose that to you. All I need you to remember is that you're safe. That’s why we have patrol parties. They keep everyone in the commune safe. I just figured you were deserving to know that Joel hasn’t been blowin’ you off for the past month. Him and Tommy are resting in the morning after patrolling all night. It shouldn’t be an issue now that the weather is starting to shift. Usually means that people are movin’ on as resources will be plentiful again.”

You let out a sigh as you crossed your arms over your chest. It did feel silly in some way that you let your brain convince you that Joel was in fact blowing you off. “Yeah.” You mumbled under your breath. “I know why you can’t disclose that information to me.”

“You’ll see him in a few weeks, Beanie. Don’t worry.” Maria reassured you.

Ha

By the time that you did see Joel again, winter wasn’t quite ready to release her icy grip around the earth. She was going to cling on just a bit longer. It was late at night and to put it simply? You were having a rough time. Spending the majority of your day alone was beginning to close in around you. The thoughts were growing louder and louder, and the nightmares you had begun to experience were the same sequence over and over like a vicious cycle that you were sucked down into, unable to escape its painful clutches. That's how you found yourself sitting alone on your roof. Your bedroom window was opened just enough that you were able to climb out onto the roof tiles. You were shivering at first, trembling as your teeth rattled against your jaw. Soon enough, the nipping chill didn’t feel as painful. A peaceful numbness washed over you as if you were in a trance.

Joel had just gotten back from being on patrol. He stopped at the stables to untack his horse, Tex and then he was heading home. He passed by your house every night, and he would stop at your front gate, debate seeing if you were awake, before he would ultimately decide going straight home was easier. On this particular night he was torn from his path home. All because he swore he saw a shadowy figure sitting on your rooftop. He thought maybe his own mind was playing tricks on him until he stepped closer to your house. He was then able to make out a human shape sitting upon the roof tiles. He didn’t even have to guess hard if it was you sitting up there. He just knew.

He called your name, and you didn’t budge a smidge.

“For fuck sakes.” He muttered under his breath as he cupped his hands on either side of his face and yelled your name once more. “BEANIE!” This time his baritone voice broke through the figurative icy shell that was wrapped around you like a cloak. You finally looked down, squinting through the vast darkness.

“Woman is gonna fuckin’ freeze to death out here. Fuck. What the hell is she doin’ up there anyway?!?” He muttered to himself as he pushed open your gate. “I’m comin’ up!” He yelled from the top step of your front porch.

Joel?

The sounds of his heavy boot steps descending up your staircase sounded muffle to your ears as you slowly dropped your chin to rest along your kneecap.

“Jesus fuck, Beanie. What the hell are you doin’ out here?” Joel harshly whispered as he pushed open your bedroom door. He had genuine concern stricken through his hardened features.

“Sitting outside on the roof.” You murmured.

“Yeah, ya don’t say? I can see that you’re sittin’ on the roof, but its fuckin’ freezin’ out here. Why don’t ya have a jacket? A blanket? Beanie, you’re gonna fuckin’ freeze to death out here.” He was already slipping his own jacket off of his shoulders and gently placing it along your shoulders as he carefully climbed through the window and onto the roof beside you.

“I don’t really feel the cold anymore, Joel.” There was a lack of emotion in your tone as your eyes slowly flitted over to him.

“Fuck. Well, that ain’t good either, darlin.’”

“I just..needed to breathe. I felt like I was suffocating in there.”

“Somethin’ happen? How long..have you been feelin’ this way Beanie?” Joel asked you softly as he met your soft gaze.

“I don’t know. A while?”

Joel sighed as he rested his weight back on his palms. “Well, I've felt that way before too. Numerous times actually. I’ll have these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and…my heart feels like it’s stopped.” He softly admitted.

“Like…you can’t breathe?”

“Yeah, like there’s water in my lungs instead of oxygen. Like i’m drownin’ and no matter how hard I swim, I can’t make it to the surface.” He murmured.

“Like..the darkness is closing in? Swallowing you whole?”

“Yeah, but that’s why you gotta look for the light. When you're lost in the darkness, look for the light.”

Joel’s words hung heavy in the air as you both sat in silence, looking up at the vast array of stars that were outshone by the brilliant pale white moon. Shining like a beacon in the inky black sky.

“Joel?” You asked through the growing silence.

“Hm darlin?’”

“Joel, what keeps you moving forward?”

Joel didn’t even have to give a single thought to your question. He already knew the answer. It was family. Family was the one thing that kept moving him forward in this new life.

“Family. You keep goin’ for family.” He confirmed as he watched the way you absentmindedly scratched at your arm, wiggled your nose as you let out a puff of icy air. “I don’t have any family.”

“That ain’t true at all. We’re friends, you and I. Friends can be family. What about Maria and Tommy? Wouldn’t you consider them to be your family as well?” Joel was looking straight into your eyes now as he softly spoke.

“You..consider me to be your family?”

“Darlin’, absolutely I do. You are my family. Why do you think I'm up here with ya right now?”

“To keep me from freezing to death?”

“Well, yes. But also because..I like spendin’ time with you. You think I'd come up here if I didn’t care about ya? I got a bad back and knees, darlin.’ One fatal slip off here and I'm toast.” He stifled a chuckle as his hand was now resting close to your own along the roof tiles

“Please, don’t fall.” Your pinky slowly looped around his.

“I ain’t gonna fall, dontcha worry.”

“Well, for the record, I'm glad you came up here.” There was a ghost of a smile on your lips as you looked over at him once more.

“Me too.” He gave your pinky a gentle squeeze. “Hey, if ya want..maybe you can go spend some time with Dina and Ellie? Help out around the stables? I know they can always use an extra set of hands.” He softly suggested.

“I guess I could do that, huh? I could use some more fresh air and I do like to see the horses.”

“Well, there ya go darlin.’ Sounds like you got it all figured out. I just know they’ll also appreciate seein’ another friendly face. Ellie ain’t got many friends either beside Dina and Jesse. I uh—think you’ll get along really well.”

“Joel?..” you asked as your cheek came to rest along his covered shoulder.

His heart skipped a beat as he did his best to not move and disturb you.

“Yeah Beanie?” He gently asked.

“Thank you.”

“What are ya thankin’ me for?” He asked as he cleared his throat under his breath.

“For being my friend.”

His heart had nearly just gone and burst right out of his chest as the frigid air turned the tips of his cheeks and nose bright red. He was secretly thankful that it was far too dark for you to detect the blush rising on his skin.

“You’re welcome darlin.’”

The sun was just beginning to peek above the horizon when Joel had finally convinced you to go back inside. He was genuinely concerned that parts of your body were frozen. Despite his aching back, and tired joints, he stayed with you until he felt like you were safe. His eyelids were beginning to droop as he rested his palm along his chin. His head bobbed as he struggled to stay awake. You were busy making a fresh pot of coffee and homemade cinnamon rolls, and you didn’t see his slumped form until you had turned around.

“Fiddlesticks,” you softly murmured as you set your bowl down and attended to his side. You gently shook his shoulder a few times before he was startled awake.

“Hey, how about you go and lay down on the couch? Rest up before you head home?”

You didn’t have to ask him twice as he slowly pulled himself up from the kitchen chair and trudged into the family room. You followed him shortly after and grabbed the thick quilt from alongside the couch and draped it over his sleeping frame. His arms were crossed over his chest as he snored softly through his much deserved slumber.

When he awoke hours later, there was a mug of coffee on the coffee table next to the couch along with a freshly baked cinnamon roll. Under the plate there was a scribbled note that read, Went to go see Dina and Ellie at the stables. Make yourself at home. -Beanie

He carefully tucked the note into his flannel pocket as he sat up. He took a hefty swig from the mug of coffee before he picked up the cinnamon roll. It smelled heavenly. With just the right amount of cinnamon and vanilla as the icing slowly oozed down the sides of his fingers. His first bite nearly had him moaning from the sugary taste. He devoured the entire thing, before drifting right back off to sleep with his arms wrapped tightly around the quilt that you had laid on him.

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[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

Hi you really don’t have to do this…… anyway I’ve been told I act like near from death note so could you do a mha x child male reader where the reader acts like near from death note like he pulls out toys in the middle of class stacks cups at lunch and is very quiet and stuff oh yeah could you make it class 1-A + Aizawa maybe other teachers in there too sorry if it’s too specific

Ofc! I haven't gotten that far into death note yet so I had to watch a Near compilation on YouTube, so I hope I got a good enough grasp of him in that time lol

Also I'm describing you as antisocial rather than shy, because near didn't strike me as the shy stuttering pushover type, and seemed just withdrawn or disinterested, and I also high-key headcanon izuku may have ADHD. I will not elaborate <3.

Masterlist<3

𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 1𝐀 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

It draws a few sets of eyes every time you pull out a pack of tarot cards or dice to play with in the middle of class, but noone really got distracted as long as you were quiet enough. Though, a few times you've knocked over a power ranger or transformer doll while taking notes and drawn the classes attention.

During break on your second week of school, you find yourself approached by the 'bakusquad'. Kirishima introduces himself politely and mina stares in awe at your tarot collection, but Bakugou looks livid.

He doesn't expect you to meet his glare directly with an unamused stare, and he's a second away from lunging at you and taking it as a challenge before Kaminari and Kirishima simultaneously bonk him in the head.

"Dude you don't even know him, give him a chance!"

You can't stop yourself from raising an eyebrow at the statement, figuring that these two must be the perfect balance for Bakugou's... Overbearing personality.

The next thing that catches your attention is the green haired boy that joins into the conversation, quietly asking you a question with a cute tilt of his head. "Have you maybe got ADHD? I've just seen a few of the signs on you- It's perfectly okay if you do! You won't be looked at differently!"

You already like this one, he's so precious.

Your eyes look straight into his as he studies you, and it's very intriguing to watch the gears turn in his head while he figures you out like some sort of puzzle. You could definitely get along with him. "No, I don't believe so."

He seems a little surprised by your words, but then again, you very well may have ADHD. You were never allowed to get tested for it, because your parents refused. Without a diagnosis, they can pretend there's nothing "wrong" with you.

He studies your eyes, figuring that you may have an irregular sleep schedule from the dark circles under your eyes, and that your eyes seem to be very sensitive to light because of how wide your pupils are. It's almost unnerving, to be honest. Your eyes look almost fully black.

Over the next few days you're scolded a few times by Aizawa Sensei for being too loud when knocking over your dice or your robots, but he never once asked you to put them away. All he asked in return was for you to be a little more active in the lessons.

"You get to keep your toys as long as you answer questions and participate a little more. Does that sound fair?" You nodded, slowly backing away to walk back to your desk and wait for break to finish, but from then on, you start drawing attention to yourself.

At first the attention is unwanted, and as you sit Criss cross applesauce on your chair, playing with your tarot cards, Izuku comes to sit next to you, starting to ramble about a random hero that you don't know anything about. He's very easy to get used to, however, and you quickly become what some would call friends.

Everyone's a little creeped out by your social awkwardness, and the fact that you never seem to talk, until they start to include you more, and you're forced to make new friends.

That doesn't mean you don't have trouble opening up though, and during lunch you sit in silence with your new friends as they chatter and smile at you, stacking cups that Izuku gave you to help you focus on something other than the amount classmates you have crowding you.

It takes a few more months for even Izuku to pry anything even remotely emotional from you, and even then it only shows in the waver of your voice, but he's proud nonetheless.

He would escort you around school because he didn't want you to be alone, and after a while your newfound closeness with Izuku branches out as mina comes to join the two of you.

She gives you an absolutely radiant smile as she grabs your hand, izuku taking hold of your other side for them to both drag you away to some part of the school you're not familiar with. The warmth of their hands in yours leaves you in shock, though, and your mind blanks a little when you feel the greenette squeeze it reassuringly, a tiny, pale blush creeping into your cheeks. This feeling, it was something you wanted to feel every day. It's so warm and comforting.

[nothorses]

re: ODD being the bad kid diagnosis: i looked it up once and noticed that the diagnostic criteria are Entirely how your potential diagnosis impacts others and not. how it impacts you. the person with the potential diagnosis. and ive been even more 👀 about it ever since.

that's not super uncommon in general tbh, ADHD is also like that.

but also.

there's such an overlap between ODD and ADHD that like... I am not an expert in any way, but. my instinctual reading personally is that it tends to be a misdiagnosis of ADHD and/or mental health issues. the fact that it's so overdiagnosed in children of color is also a huge red flag, considering that's a group that tends to be underdiagnosed for just about everything else, at least that I'm aware of.

the fact that there's also nothing specific that has yet been linked as a cause of ODD, that a half of children diagnosed with ODD also meet criteria for ADHD, and that ODD tends to happen more in families with a history of ADHD and mood disorders, suggests to me that like... if it is a real diagnosis on its own, there's a decent chance that it's at least overdiagnosed. [x]

but this is all just my own (non-professional) opinion. 🤷‍♂️

[dragon-watcher03]

Hello! <3 how are you?! I love what you write, could you place an order for me, about bi-han's head cannons, Johnny cage, smoke and reptile from mortal kombat 1 meeting and falling in love and conquering an autistic reader or one with asperger's, I'm very curious about that already I have Asperger's and curiosity kills me a lot.

Sorry it took so long to answer your ask. Had to do some research first.

Mk1 x Autistic! Reader

Ft: Sub-Zero, Smoke, Reptile, Johnny

Note: I appreciate all the asks and requests yall. <3

Sub-Zero

He was never good at understanding others either, so you 2 were the perfect match for each other.

He probably met you through Tomas or Kuai Liang and didn't talk to you at first. But as time passed, he realized that you are just as socially awkward as he was. So he plucked up the courage to start a conversation with you.

He fell in love with your strength; you can't tell me otherwise. It's what he looks for in a partner. He also found your silence endearing and comforting. And as you two grew closer, you eventually plucked up the courage to tell him about your autism.

He didn't react that much since that didn't change how he saw you. But he now understood why you were so quiet and socially awkward, so he tried to keep you away from situations like that so you don't feel uncomfortable.

He isn't very empathetic either, so you two can relate pretty well with each other. Most of your time is spent alone with each other in silence and just enjoying the comfortable silence.

Smoke

He's a pretty social person, so he had a little trouble understanding you and your quietness.

You both met when Liu Kang introduced you to them and he obviously tried to start a conversation with you, but sensing your awkwardness and discomfort he stopped. Over time though you started talking a little bit with him which made him very happy.

He probably fell in love with your determination. Since you don't talk much he doesn't really know much about your personality but he saw your determination during missions as clear as day.

When you told him about your diagnosis, he was very supportive and reassuring that he didn't see you any differently. But he definitely does plenty of research about your specific type of autism and does his best to understand.

He tries to have you avoid social situations since he doesn't want to see you uncomfortable. Plus, he prefers your company over anyone else's so it's a win-win in his book.

Reptile

He doesn't really go out of his way to talk with other people or attend social events, but that doesn't make him bad at it. In fact, he's actually quite good at socializing.

You both probably met through Ashrah and he didn't really see your awkwardness as odd, he thought it was normal for people to be quiet when they first meet.

But then over time, he saw you were still quite distant despite having known him for a while. So he took it upon himself to start a conversation with you.

He probably fell in love with your voice, at least when he does hear it. He thinks it's the most beautiful melody in the entire realm and wishes he would hear more of it, but he also doesn't know if it's weird to want to listen to someone's voice.

When you tell him of your condition, he's kind of confused. Poor boy doesn't know what Autism is, so you'll have to explain it to him. When he eventually does understand, he's very understanding. He usually talks for you in social settings but doesn't avoid them entirely since his species are social creatures.

Johnny

He is the most social out of all of them, he's constantly going out to events and talking with everyone in the area.

You both met through Raiden and he warned Johnny that you weren't much of a talker. That didn't stop him from starting a conversation immediately. That's when he really saw how socially awkward you were.

So he laid you off for a bit since he thought maybe you were too shy to speak with him, but the longer he knew you, the more he noticed something off about your behavior. So he does some research and finds out you most likely have autism.

So he keeps it to himself but still tries to engage in conversation with you. He fell in love with your shyness, 100%. And he doesn't even need to do anything to make you that way.

Eventually, you tell him you have autism and he tells you he already knew. So now that you were comfortable with telling him that, he thought that meant you two were a lot closer now. So he tends to let you stay at home while he continues to socialize as he usually does, but he does it a little less often so he can also spend time with you as well.

[inkskinned]

i both firmly believe that self-diagnosing saved my life and i think that the way tiktok and instagram have recently been spreading misinformation about mental illness/neurodivergence is incredibly harmful.

people who are looking for answers are already people who are in a vulnerable situation.

much of the misinformation appears logically sound; and is presented as definitive fact (prefaced with claims such as "research shows"). it's imperative we remember correlation does not prove causation. it is incredibly dangerous to make definitive statements like "if X happened in your childhood, you now Z as an adult." real scientists will almost always use may or other less-definitive terms. similarly, equating one behavior/experience with any single condition is also unsafe. many conditions have overlapping symptoms; and many people "mask" their key symptoms, even to themselves.

we cannot discern from a singular data point any conclusion. in official diagnosis, for a behavior/experience to be considered a symptom, it must significantly influence your life. many people enjoy an organized space. that is a preference. disrupting your daily life even at personal cost in order to prioritize organization is more likely a symptom.

again, a single data point is not an effective diagnostic tool. it is necessary and important work to catalogue and consider all unwanted/distressing behaviors in order to understand a complete picture of the person.

i will see creators in paid partnerships make generalized behavioral/emotional claims that apply to a large portion of a community, and then they will suggest that the "solution" to that behavior is through their paid partner/through their personal support. "follow for more psych tips/facts" is an incredibly evil marketing tactic. i very rarely see unpartnered/unbranded content on how to aid/comfort those behaviors and feelings.

much of the misinformation employs a subtle technique (called confirmation bias) of setting up a conclusion before "proving" the conclusion. "you know you have X when you experience A,B, and C." no person's experience of their conditions/behaviors will look exactly the same as another's. while knowing certain things might be a sign/symptom of a condition, it is irresponsible to consider it definitive.

confirmation bias is unfortunately extremely effective on tiktok specifically. the algorithm will notice that you interacted longer with the video that "proves" (through a singular video) that you "have" a condition. it will continue to feed you related videos that further confirm what you believe.

this is dangerous because we are, unfortunately, not good at knowing ourselves. i did not know it was unusual to vividly nightmare every night; i didn't consider it a symptom. i was similarly dismissive also of any other signs of my PTSD - i incorrectly assigned them to anxiety/adhd. on the small scale, this can mean a longer journey to healing. on the larger scale, it can mean people with extremely difficult situations are unable to get the help they need.

please, if you can, and you're looking to self-diagnose: be careful about what you assume about yourself. try to keep an honest journal of what you're thinking/feeling/doing for a few days.

do not go in with an assumption. try to keep an open mind. i think we all "suspect" we have something - but like i said, i completely missed my own PTSD symptoms, because i suspected the ADHD the most, and only "saw" those symptoms.

do your own research. if the tiktok says "research shows", google that research. figure out who paid for that research. do further research related to that study - has it ever been repeated? is it peer reviewed? do other researchers seem to accept it as conclusive?

if you feel you really resonate with the materials of one person's experience with a condition, find other examples. see if you relate to other creators who identify similarly.

and please - please do not stop once you come to a conclusion. i fully believe that the diagnostic process should be seen as a first step, not a destination. by knowing what you might be struggling with, you gain an incredibly powerful tool on how to gain peace with that condition.

if you feel yourself emotionally respond to a tiktok/etc that suggests something that might be true about yourself, i'm glad you had that experience. but it's also important to not relax into the "easy" answer. interrogate it. start googling what else that could mean; what ways you could work on healing that wound.

healing does not "belong" to any one condition. i want you to begin to look into healing no matter if you have "proven" you have a condition or not. it is never selfish to practice responsible self-care. even if you don't relate to having adhd, you are not harming me by using adhd-inspired study tips. it is not making my condition worse for you to seek peace by asking for more time on tests. even if it was - the fault would be with the system, not in your need of something the system makes inaccessible.

remind yourself that everything you experience is real. and because it is real, it is complicated. while things might be related - even sometimes clearly related - a stranger on the internet cannot make that discernment for you. you as a person deserve the work, attention, and care that goes into the process of unravelling the harm that has been done to you.

it makes me very, very upset to see how popular these videos have become, because they're so irresponsible. and they clearly are targeting a vulnerable group. for example, making generalized claims about children of unloving caretakers is targeting those who have experienced neglect. there is no way to use 30 second videos to correctly analyze what that neglect might have caused in your adult life. i'm sorry, but it's snake oil.

i know it is so powerful soothing to recognize that you aren't broken. that others exist like you out there. i want every person looking for answers to find their answer. i want you to feel seen and heard and understood. i want you to find your community.

i just want it to happen safely.

[ereardon]

Friends Don't || Chapter 1

Summary: Bob Floyd has been your best friend for almost a decade, ever since he quietly agreed to tutor you in college. The two of you have spent years chasing each other around the globe – Bob as a WSO, you as a travel blogger. You’ve always been the anywhere-but-here girl, and he’s been your rock. But when a surprise diagnosis threatens to crumble your picture-perfect life, you’re on the first flight back to San Diego, desperate to put down roots for the first time. Will Bob finally have it in him to admit that you could be the love of his life? What will he say when he finds out the secret you’ve been skillfully hiding from him? Or worse, what if he doesn’t find out until it’s too late? 

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x OC [Reid] 

Tropes: Friends to lovers

Warnings: Cursing

WC: 2.5K

Series masterlist here; next chapter here

“Reid?” 

“Shh, go back to sleep,” you muttered as you slid into the bed, pressing the cold tops of your feet against his warm calves. 

“How was the date?” he asked. 

You opened up one eye. He had his head smashed against the pillow, blue eyes zeroed in on you. “Awful,” you whispered. “Couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

"That bad, huh?"

"He picked up his steak with his hands and bit into it."

Bob chuckled softly, gently jostling the queen-sized mattress. “I’m sorry, that's pretty bad.”

You groaned, nuzzling into his side. “Bobby. Am I ever going to find someone?”

He placed his hand on your cheek, so light it was barely a whisper. “Of course you will. You're everyone's dream girl.” 

“You promise?” you murmured, sleep already starting to weigh you down. 

Bob’s fingers threaded softly through your hair. “Yeah, darlin’, I promise.” 

Present 

“Bobby?” 

“Reid?” There was wind whipping on the other end of the phone line, so loud you could barely hear him. “Sorry, I’m on deck.” 

You smiled, leaning back against the ratty couch. “It’s good to hear your voice,” you said. 

On the other end, Bob smiled. “You too, darlin’. Now what’s going on?” 

“A girl can’t just call her best friend to say hi? Especially when said best friend is on his way home from a deadly mission.” 

“They’re all deadly,” Bob said carefully and you heard the pain in his voice. It was the pain that was always there now, ever since he lost her. “And you can. Of course you can.” He paused. “But I also know you. And you sound like you have something specific you want to talk about.” 

He knew you too well. It struck a sense of fear, deep in your gut. You couldn’t tell him. Not yet. Not everything. “I, um, I got a new job.” 

“Really?” 

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, and placed one foot on the taped cardboard box at your feet. 

“Reid?” You could hear the confusion in his low, rumbling voice. “Darlin', you gotta speak up, can barely hear you over the waves. Weather is really bad out here today.” 

“I’m moving to San Diego,” you said loudly. “I’ll see you in two days.” 

Bob paused. Then, “For real?” 

You smiled. “Yeah, Bobby, for real this time.” 

Bob let out an excited laugh. “That’s great, Sunny.” Your skin flushed at the nickname. “Key is under the mat, like always.” You loved that he just assumed — correctly — that your plan was to live with him in his second bedroom. It went without saying. That’s how it had always been with Bob. Easy. 

Well, most of the time. 

This wouldn’t be like all the other times. This wouldn’t be easy.

“I’ll see you on Saturday.” 

“See you on Saturday, Sunny.” 

***

Bob could still pinpoint the exact moment he first laid eyes on you. Sophomore year. Intro to psychology. 

You were perched on the edge of a desk, long tanned legs swinging, the back of your heeled sandals occasionally hitting the leg of the desk, as you chatted with another girl in the class. 

Bob watched as you tipped your head back in an open-mouthed laugh, golden waves spilling down your back. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you during class. The way you tapped your pen against your red lips and the way you furiously scribbled in a notebook when everyone else was typing on laptops and the look of concentration on your face as the professor flicked through slides. 

So it was the shock of a lifetime when three weeks into the semester, Bob was packing up his Jansport backpack and he saw your red nails enter his peripheral as you waved at him. 

“Hi!” you said with a smile. 

Bob looked up, fingers almost trembling as he tried to zip his backpack shut. He looked around, confused. “Me?” he asked. 

You giggled. “Yeah. Hi, I’m Reid.” 

“Um, I’m Bob,” he said, sticking out his hand. 

You looked at it dubiously and then shook it. “So, your presentation was great,” you said softly. 

“Thank you.” He was nervous. You could tell by the way his eyes kept darting down instead of meeting your own. You were nervous, too. You didn’t like asking for help. It didn’t come naturally. But your faculty advisor had said you needed to pass this course to stay on track for your degree. And Bob had seemed like the nicest person to ask. “I know this sounds weird,” you replied. “But what are the chances you would be willing to tutor me? Or be study partners.” 

“What?” 

You cleared your throat. “I need to pass this class,” you confessed. “And you did so well on the presentation I was thinking that maybe you could help me.” The confused, blank look on Bob’s face made you shake your head. “Fuck, OK, this was a dumb idea. You know what? Nevermind. Pretend I didn’t say anything.” As you turned to walk away, Bob’s hand shot out, gripping your wrist. You looked down. His hands were large, strong, with protruding veins. When you looked up, you noticed perhaps for the first time how attractive he was, in a nerdy, kind sort of way. The small mouth and gentle smile, the warm eyes behind a pair of wire glasses. “I’ll tutor you,” he said after a moment. 

“Really?” 

Bob nodded and you were so elated that you tossed your arms around his neck, hugging him close. Bob stood with his hands outstretched, afraid to touch you. When you pulled back, his face was in a state of shock. 

You chuckled. “Here.” You ripped off a corner piece of your spiral notebook page and scribbled your number on it. “Text me?” 

Bob gripped the scrap of paper between his thumb and index finger and watched as you left the room, tossing a wave over your shoulder with a brilliant smile. 

Bob’s hand trembled as he slid the piece of paper into his pocket. Somehow, he knew. You had walked into his life that day and changed everything.

***

You sat at the bar Bob had told you to meet him at, wearing a short pink dress with a small ruffled hem. It was tight across the top and you knew your chest was on display, but in a flirty way, not a scandalous way. You looked good and you knew it. 

For some reason, you always tried to look good for Bob. Even though he had seen you in vomit-covered t-shirts during college and he had been the one to drive you to the emergency room with a 104 degree temperature that time you visited him in Pensacola and even if you spent ninety percent of your trip to the Almalfi coast together with no makeup on and your hair pulled back into a slicked bun, you still always made an effort for the reunion. There was something important about feeling your best the moment Bob’s eyes locked on yours after a deployment. You would wait months just to see the way his blue eyes sparkled as he took you in for the first time after a separation, the giddy smile on his handsome face as he swept you into his arms. 

It made the reunion special.

You looked good. So that’s why you weren’t surprised when a blond slid onto the barstool next to you, leaning one tanned arm on the wooden bar. “Hey beautiful,” he said softly. “Let me get you a second drink.” 

You rolled your eyes and swiveled toward him, tanned legs crossing over each other, one heeled ankle brushing over his calf. “I’m good.” 

He looked you up and down. He was beautiful, in an obvious way. Taunt golden skin, bright green eyes, a Colgate-sponsored smile. “You sure about that, baby?” he asked. “Anything you like, on me.” 

You shook your head. “Like I said, I’m good. I’m waiting for someone.” 

He leaned closer. “Someone better than me?” 

You smirked. 

Then, “Sunny.” 

You whipped around, practically launching yourself off of the stool and into Bob’s arms. He held you tightly, his warm, strong arms gripping your waist, one hand threaded into the base of your hair. He smelled the same, like jet fuel and oranges and a hint of spicy cologne, and you sunk into his familiar embrace. For a second, everything else faded away and it was just you in Bob's arms. 

And then reality set back in. After a moment, you pulled away, only a few inches, running one hand over his soft cheek. 

“What took you so long?” you murmured. “This jackass tried to get me into bed, and I actually thought about it for a second.” You hooked a finger toward the blond at the bar behind you.

Bob chortled and let you go. The two of you looked over at the blond, who looked like his eyes were going to fall out. He was practically stuttering in silence.  

“Floyd?” he asked carefully after a moment. “What the fuck?” 

Bob shook his head. “I see you met Sunny.” 

“Sunny?” 

“Reid Coleman,” you said, holding out a hand. The blond took it, pumping your hand slowly, hesitantly. His face was twisted in confusion. 

“Jake Seresin,” he said, squinting. He turned his gaze back to Bob. “You can call me Hangman. Floyd, is this your girlfriend?” There was a disbelief threaded through his words. 

The two of you laughed. You reached out, interlacing your fingers with Bob’s. The tips of his ears blushed pink. “No,” you answered for him. Then you gave Jake a look of disdain. “I’m still out of your league, though.” 

“But you’re in Floyd’s?” he asked, aghast. 

You chuckled. “Honey, I couldn’t get Bobby if I tried.”

“Sunny,” Bob whispered, low and gravely, a warning, and you flashed him a brilliant smile. 

“I’m Bobby’s new roommate,” you replied. 

Hangman raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” He turned to Bob. “You gonna introduce her to the team, Floyd?” 

You both turned to Bob expectantly. He fiddled with his large hands. “Bobby?” you asked. 

He leaned in close to your ear. “They’re going to ask questions,” he whispered. “About us. Just hope you know that.” 

You tipped your head to the side. “Nothing to hide,” you smiled. “Right?” 

Bob gazed at you. “Right,” he repeated softly. 

Hangman looked between the two of you and frowned. He didn’t care what words were coming out of your mouths, he knew there was something more beneath the surface that neither of you was ready to admit. He also knew you were ten times hotter than any girl he had ever seen Bob speak to, and he was still partially in shock that you were here with Floyd. 

You followed Bob and Jake to the back of the bar near the pool table. Hangman immediately went and whispered in the ear of a tall guy with incredible cheekbones who turned his gaze on you with a smirk. 

Bob tapped a massive guy in a hideous Hawaiian shirt, startling him. “Rooster?” 

“Little busy here, Bob,” Rooster said, tapping his pool cue and sinking a striped ball into the back left pocket. He looked up, registering you standing there, and immediately dropped the cue. “Fuck, OK, you have my attention.” 

You shook your head with a small smile. Bob cleared his throat. “Um, guys, someone I want you to meet. Rooster, this is Reid, my best friend from college.” 

Rooster stepped forward, slotting his huge hand into yours with a grin. “Bradley,” he said. “Or you can call me Rooster, whatever you prefer.” 

You smiled. “Chicken man,” you said. “Rooster it is.” 

He laughed. Bob pointed to the man next to him, who stepped forward with a smile. “And this is Fanboy.” You shook his head. “And Payback.” Another handshake. “That’s Coyote.” The tall cheekbones guy that Hangman had rushed over to stepped forward and shook your hand with a smirk. “And this is Phoenix.” 

Your eyes locked on the female aviator, her dark hair pulled back into a slick bun, and you rushed forward, pulling her into an embrace. Natasha was shocked, winding her thin arms around you with hesitation. 

You pulled back and laughed. “Sorry,” you whispered. “I’ve just heard a lot about you from Bobby.” You looked back at him, and then turned to face Phoenix. “You keep him safe every day. Makes you a hero in my book.” 

You watched Phoenix’s eyes glisten as you dropped your hands from her forearms, stepping back. Bob pressed one large hand to your low back and you grinned, threading your arm around his waist, squeezing him gently. 

Phoenix smiled.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said softly. “Floyd here can’t stop talking about you.” 

You looked up at Bob who blushed. “Is that so?” 

He shook his head. “Phoenix, stop giving her a big head,” he muttered. “Don’t give her an excuse to be even more cocky.” 

You nudged his hip with yours and Bob smirked. 

Phoenix locked eyes with you. “It’s really nice to meet you, Reid.” 

The corner was quiet for a moment until you looked up at Rooster. “Alright, next round on me.” 

There were cheers and you hooked your finger at Bradley, silently asking him to come with you to help carry the drinks. He followed you to the bar, placing his forearms on the smooth wood, looking over at you. “So, Reid, how long are you in town for?” 

“Moved here today,” you said. “I’m staying with Bobby for now.” 

“What do you do?” 

“I was a travel writer,” you said, flagging down the waitress and ordering a long island iced tea, while Bradley ordered for the rest of the team. “But I’m starting a new job as a content specialist with a firm here.” 

He nodded. “Why the switch?” 

You fiddled with the cocktail napkin on the bar. “Just needed a change, I guess.” 

Bradley grinned, leaning a little closer, his enormous bicep flexing at his side. “So you and Bob?” 

“Just friends.”

“Are you, uh, involved?” he asked after a moment. 

You smiled. “No, not right now.” The truth was, you hadn’t been in a long-term relationship in almost three years. It just didn’t suit your lifestyle. 

At least, that’s what you always told yourself. 

You leaned one elbow onto the bar. “Why do you ask, Chicken? You hitting on me or something?” 

Bradley smiled. “If you were Bob’s girl, I wouldn’t dream of it. But it sounds like you’re not.” 

You glanced over to the left where Bob was standing with Natasha, laughing softly at something she said. There was a sense of relief, just being in the same room as him. Knowing he was safe and alive and on dry land. Knowing he wasn’t in the skies. Then you turned back to Bradley. “I’m his,” you said quietly. “Not in the way you’d think, not in any kind of tangible way. But I’m his if that makes any sense.” 

Bradley nodded, scooping up the collection of beer bottles the bartender had set down in front of the two of you. “Makes all the sense in the world.” 

A/N: A bit of a slower start, but I am excited about these two! This is my first Bob series ☺️

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[soft-for-them]

The cliché of being stuck in a lift with your crush - Spock x plus size reader

Summary: You get stuck in a lift with Spock. Based off prompts 8, 10 and 28 on this list. (Gender neutral because Spock is queer to me.)

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Not proof read at all, also I changed the wording of the prompts a bit to match the way Spock speaks even though I feel that this is out of character. I haven't written for Spock in a while...

It is getting late, not that giant expanse of space indicated it. The sky is always an inky black filled with glittering stars and rotating planets. From you data pad you can gather it’s around nine in evening aka time to be relaxing maybe even sleeping however the universe has other plans for you.

You’re a red shirt, specifically working as an engineer, though you mostly work more on the smaller parts of the ship like the replicators and communication devices rather than the engines or any part of the ship that Scotty loves. Really you’re a jack of all trades, a plumber and an electrician rolled into one but with the added benefit that you work in space rather than on earth.

It’s a rewarding job and really you truly love it but because of it, that and the fact that you have many non red shirt friends on the Enterprise, you’re often the person called to fix silly little accidents that could have been avoided if people weren’t so clumsy.

If you had a penny for the amount of times you’ve turned a computer on and off or tightened a lose screw for an oblivious friend who thinks they’re about to blow up the ship you’d have enough money to retire early.

Dressed in a long bright pink bed shirt and a pair of boxers that poke out from under the t-shirt hem you slog over to the nearest turbo lift to go back to your room and sleep. Your mismatched socks dampen the sounds of your shoeless feet and you clutch a small tool box to your chest, the allen keys and magnetic screw drivers rattling around inside it.

A friend of yours had broken a light whilst flinging a chair at a ‘spider’, the creature not actually there. When you had gotten there they were in tears thinking that someone was going to shout at them for breaking the main light, their room mate panicking for they had walked into the messed up room and the scared human.

The light wasn’t broken. Sure the plastic covering the strip light had cracked but it hadn’t broke, instead the chair your friend had chucked across the room had slammed the light switch off making them think they broke the light.

For half an hour you’ve been comforting your dear friend, cleaning their room to the best of your ability whilst a nurse looked them over. The diagnosis was that they needed sleep and food so you had got them some food, tucked them into bed and promise to come replace the cracked plastic in the morning.

Now you step into a turbo lift wanting some food and sleep as well.

Your eyes go blurry as you step in and call out you destination, the lull of sleep beckoning you to your soft bed. You don’t notice a figure walk in behind you, their walk hurried. With tired eyes you look down to see a pair of shiny regulation shoes stood close but not too close.

Immediately you straighten up.

His voice calls out his own destination which makes you lift your head up, your round face going flush.

Here you are, t-shirt slipping down on shoulder showing more of soft skin than professional, your chubby legs covered in stubble and goose bumps and your face a frown.

Fuck, you’re not ever wearing shoes.

“Sir.” you greet clutching your tools closer to your chest your eyes wondering up to him.

“Lieutenant (y/n).”

Your face somehow gets even hotter.

For one thing you’re a Lieutenant junior grade not a Lieutenant, that and somehow Mr. Spock knows your first name which you never thought he knew! If this was an old earth cartoon you’d turn lobster red and faint at his feet at him calling your name.

“Busy night.” you say with an awkward smile lifting your tool box up a bit prove your point.

“Yes.” he states firmly, his eye still trained on you as the turbo lift moves, “I have been in many meetings today.”

You’ve never really liked small talk but somehow small talk with Spock isn’t awkward. You have the tiniest crush on the Vulcan for a while and here you are enjoying small talk and long pauses with him.

Your eyes tired and droopy linger on his long sharp features that you dream of only to notice he looks tired too. Not a tired as you but sleepy enough that it shows on his handsome face. His blue make up around his eyes is slightly smudge and the dim lift lights cast a yellow glow onto the out of place black hairs that stick up from his normally neat and tidy hairstyle.

Cold fingers itch to smooth down his stray hairs so much so that you don’t flinch as the turbo lift stalls to a stop, the door not opening despite being at the right floor.

Blinking you snap out of your trance not realising that Spock was staring at you too, neither do you realise the splotches of green blush creep up his pointed ears.

“Damn it! The door’s jammed.” you mutter as you poke at the interface screen doing your normal engineering thing trying to get it open.

You tap many buttons on the screen to no avail.

“We will be here for a while?” Spock asks stepping a bit closer to you.

“Looks like it.” you say prolonging the word ‘looks’ as you crouch down opening a side panel that no one except you and your workmates know about, a cluster of rainbow wires sticking out, “I might be able to override the door system though-“

You look up to the stoic Spock, his full attention on you and totally no on how your thighs press together as you fully lower yourself onto your knees.

“- probably can get it open but I’ll have to get some proper tools to fix it.” Either that or you’ll have to call someone else to fix it, though you don’t tell Spock that.

“That seems a logical plan Lieutenant.”

And there it is! For a split second you see his pretty eyes flicker down your body like he's done many times before.

You see your little crush on Spock is quiet new but you’ve known how he's looked at you for quite some time. At first you though he was judging you, you’re plus size so unfortunately you get the odd disproving look often, but then you’ve recently realised that his ears go green when his eyes catch on the curves of your body.

Or maybe you’re imagining things. Either way you like the idea of such handsome man looking at you like that.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me Mr. Spock-“ you boldly state as you fiddle about with some wires, “- you think I don’t notice but I’m a very perceptive person.”

“You do?”

Raising up, tool box left on the ground, you smile.

“I’m not sure what you think of me Mr. Spock but I know I like you, if that makes you uncomfortable then I know you’ll tell me.”

He steps closer into your personal space.

“The door is not open.” he muses, “I assume it will take a while?”

“Oh!” his eyes flicker down to your lips, “We should get comfy then?”

“Certainly Lieutenant.”

[insxghtt]

could you do more bella x bpd reader? maybe like a specific moment or symptom that they help you through? -🐞

omg you just read my mind i love this

hypersensitivity — bella ramsey x bpd!reader

Bella was one of the best people you’ve ever met. Not only because they were a great partner, the love of your life, extremely beautiful and talented and smart, but also because they had the ability to see people for who they were.

When they heard your diagnosis for the first time, they weren’t scared like everyone else. They listened quietly, nodded, and gave you one of the best hugs of your life. You cried. A lot, actually. Bella stayed there and dried your last tear with the sleeve of his green sweatshirt. Then, he held your face with his two hands and kissed your cheeks.

“You’re still my girl. Nothing changed”, they said.

And really, nothing changed. Of course, now Bella could understand you more. They were able to realize the things that bothered you. Like, for example, strong smells that made you grumpy, movies that made you more emotional, songs that made you cry, changes in your routine that made you feel stressed.

They also realized how scared you were of the judgment from other people. You always heard that you were just “too much”. Too emotional, too angry, too depressed, too intense. And some words triggered you so bad that made you want to hide from the world forever.

Once, you invited her to dinner with your friends from high school. You knew it would be hard for you and that you would need him there. School was not easy and the memories would probably hit you like a punch in the stomach.

“I can’t even believe that you found someone”, one of your high school friends said to you. “I mean, I thought you’d be single forever. You were always so exaggerated when it came to love.”

She said it like it was a joke. Well, it was an awful joke and not funny at all. Plus, the use of the word “exaggerated” was the worst part. You tried your best to hide how much that bothered you and just laughed, but the tears in your eyes were already about to fall. You hated that. It was like you were about to overflow. Your blood was burning, the pain in your chest was insufferable. Thankfully, none of them seemed to notice while you held back your cry. Except, of course, for Bella.

Without even saying a word, they looked at you and immediately knew you wanted to leave. Bella was very good at reading you.

“Shit, darling, i forgot to tell you that Pedro invited us to have breakfast with him and his sister tomorrow morning”, Bella said, interrupting your friend who was about to tell a story about one of your first crushes.

Bella really was good at acting. 

“Really?”, your voice cracked a little from the tears you were holding back.

“Yeah, he said he wanted to see us before going back to LA.”

“You’re friends with Pedro Pascal?”, your high school friend asked you, her tone sounding a bit envious.

What a bitch, you thought. Now you remembered why you decided to push her away after your graduation.

“Yes”, you answered, sounding more confident now.

“Anyway, we should probably go now, it’s getting late and we need to wake up early”, Bella continued.

“Okay…”, the girl gave you a fake smile.

You and Bella said goodbye to all the people and left the restaurant, heading back to their car. Bella had their arm around your waist and you saw them rolling their eyes as soon as you walked out of the door, which made you giggle. Somehow, you forgot about how much the words of your “friend” hurted you.

Bella opened the car door for you like they always did, and after you were inside, they walked around and got on the driver's side.

“Are you okay?”, Bella asked with a soft tone.

You smiled, looking at those beautiful brown eyes.

“Yeah”, you whispered. God, you loved them so much. “I’m okay now.”

[karmaisakhaleesi]

Astronomy chap. 1 Neteyam Sully x human!fem!reader

master list-

It's astronomy, we're two worlds apart

1.3k+ word count

warnings- anxiety/panic attacks, death, illness, lmk if i missed any!

comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this!

Neteyam x human!fem!reader

---

You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when you walk down the steps of the cargo ship. You feel the start of a migraine when the mask tightens around your head. The only barrier between life and death at the hands of asphyxia. You shudder at the thought and take in the base, concrete buildings along with bulldozers, and in the distance, the lush greenery of a forest makes you all the more homesick. But you grin and bear it, your Mother's words echoing through you, "Live your life, I'll be fine. It's not like there's much for me to do here anyway."

The memory was bittersweet, having been right after her diagnosis. You shook your head, shoving it away, you promised you wouldn't cry. Just yet.

A woman interrupted you briefly introducing herself and guided you inside. You quickly followed, the sound of air escaping as the doors closed behind you.

"So Miss, Augustine, how do you feel?"

The blonde woman, whose name you had briefly forgotten asked. You felt a flush creep up my cheeks, "Um, well, it's a lot different than back home. But I should be fine!" I fumbled over my words fiddling with the strap of my backpack.

"Good, well I'll leave you to it, remember, dinners at 1900 hours!" she said leaving briskly, the sound of her shoes echoing against the linoleum floors.

You glance at the small room that greeted you. Nothing but a small grey cot and matching desk cramped into the small room. Your bag hits the bed with a thud, "Whelp, time to regret my life choices for the next ten hours," you sigh.

___

"Are you insane?!? Have you lost it?!? She's nothing but a child!" a male voice shouted from behind the office door.

You flinched, and he sounded pissed. You sucked in a deep breath knocking on the door.

"We have had this discussion several times might I remind you, Doctor Moran. And we will not have it again. You know why she is here, are we clear?"

"You've gone mad!"

You flinched again as the door flew open and a man with a mess of gray hair regarded you with a look of pure disdain. He then stormed past you nearly knocking you down.

"Miss Augustine, it's nice to see you. Please, come in," the general greeted.

She shuffled some papers off her desk and into a drawer. Giving you a tight-lipped smile she gestured for you to take a seat. You tentatively sat down in the brown leather swivel chair, the only thing of color in the small gray room you noted.

Your hands clenched the arms of the chair, bracing yourself for the words about to leave her mouth.

"Now I see here that you have all of the required degrees and specifications for the job I've offered you," she paused to pull a paper off of her desk.

"Graduated Harvard summa cum laude, in undergrad. Top of your class in grad school, and completed your Ph.D. thesis on Pandoran ecology to earn your doctorate degree all at or before the age of fifteen. Quite an impressive resume, if I say so myself."

You frown, eyes finding the floor a much more interesting subject than your many degrees and accomplishments.

General Ardmore gives you another tight-lipped smile before she pulls a pen out and hands it out to you. She then pushes a paper towards you, "Now let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

You sigh and nod your head in affirmation, hand shaking, pen tip hovering on the stark white paper.

"You sign this and your Mother's cured. Well as long as you hold up your end of the deal, Miss Augustine," she gives yet another smile, but you can see that it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

You quickly sign, biting your lip to hold back the tears you can feel burning to be let go.

"Yes, understood ma'am."

"Good! Now that that's been taken care of, let's get you ready to ship out!"

She spins her chair around to stand, her shoes echoing through the hall as you stand to follow.

___

You glance wearily at the helicopter before someone tosses your bag into a seat, you glance over at a woman with sunglasses gives you a curt smile through her mask, and walks to the pilot seat. You carefully sit down next to your bag and strap the seatbelt as tight as you can, also seatbelting your bag. Just so that it won't fall out, you think to yourself as you hear the chopper blades start whirring defeating you.

You feel a tap on your shoulder as the General gives you a thumbs up, a bit of warning in her eyes. You nod soundlessly as you take off, gasping at the feeling.

---

Your feet touch solid ground after what feels like forever and you carefully undo your and your bag's seatbelts. You clutch your bag tightly to your chest, scared you'll lose it. A man greets you and shakes your hand, "Dr. Spellman! It's a pleasure to meet you!"

You return the handshake and nod, too nervous to speak.

You follow him into the facility and the familiar whoosh of air signals the doors closing behind you. You quickly take off your mask and take a deep breath.

"So, how was your, um, trip?" Dr. Spellman asks, wringing his hands as he guides you to your room.

"It was, uneventful," you reply setting your bag down in a similarly grey room, desk, bed, and all.

"Well, that's good," he replies.

You glance up at him, he seems, nervous. Or scared, maybe a mix of both. You knew things had changed since your Aunt Grace left for Pandora, mostly for the worst. You were surprised they had even let you come, well not to the base, but to the old facility. You had figured they would refuse, but with the omission of your role with the military, they reluctantly agreed.

"You seem, nervous," Dr. Spellman sputtered in the middle of his explanation, denying your accusation, but his face flushed a deep red.

"Well, yes, just a bit," he paused eyes widening as he quickly shut a door, whisper shouting at something you couldn't see.

A flurry of hushed voices in a language you somewhat recognized followed. You frowned turning to Spellman opening your mouth before the opened interrupting you mid-sentence.

You gasped as a group of, Na'vi and one human pushed open the door. The human looked to be around your age, long messy blonde hair obscured his face and blue markings covered his body. You flinched as their confused looks turned to hisses of defense, which caused you to stumble back and trip over a small box.

Closing your eyes, you braced yourself for impact, only to feel a warm hand enclosed around your arm. You blinked slowly and looked on to see a deep blue hand enclosed around yours keeping you from falling face-first onto the floor. Heat crept up your face as the hand dropped your arm as if it were on fire.

"Okay, everybody," Dr. Spellman interrupted, "Please calm down, I will explain in two seconds!"

He sighed exasperatedly, pointing to you, "This is Dr. Augustine, Dr. Grace Augustine's niece."

"And they are Neteyam, Lo'ak, Kiri, Tuktirey, and Miles," he paused looking towards them warily.

They returned the wariness.

"Your my mother's niece?" the older girl interrupted.

You give her a nervous smile, feeling an anxiety attack coming on, "Yes, I'm y/n Augustine. My mom is your mother's sister, Selene Augustine."

You can feel your throat tightening and vision blurring as the girl, Kiri you believe? Questions you excitedly. You feel a warm hand on your shoulder, and that's when the world goes black.

___

i hope you like chapter 1! chapter 2 should be out soon!

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and request for avatar and avatar the way of water are open!!! feel free to ask for anything really!

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@phantomalex14

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

With the anon’s comment about no one wanting Charles’ medical information, I feel like a lot of the time when things happen in the Royal world anons and bloggers end up going into this in-depth analysis on things when really there’s not as much to it as they’re making it out to be. The theories discussed were about no one caring about Prince Philip’s details or Charles’ but obviously someone was tempted to see if they could find out what was going on with Kate simply because of the public interest and hysteria that’s going on. People have been made curious by the media hype. Plus, Charles made his condition public in the first place. Also, we could look at what happened with the Queen and there was little interest around her specific condition but that’s because the palace firmly went with the story all along (or implied) that it was just old age. Also the fact the Queen and Prince Philip were old so it was expected to see them deteriorating.

But why is there so much more public interest and hysteria about Kate in the first place, when Charles, Philip, and The Queen have gone through very similar things?

All Kate/KP did was make the same statement that they've all made: "The royal is in hospital X for surgery on {body part}. She will be in the hospital for X days. She is doing well."

The statement for the Queen's knee surgery:

The Queen this morning underwent a minor operation at the King Edward VII Hospital in London to remove a torn cartilage in her right knee. The 45-minute operation, which was performed by The Queen's orthopaedic surgeon Mr Roger Vickers, went very well and Her Majesty is expected to leave hospital tomorrow morning. Mr Vickers was assisted by Mr Adrian Fairbank. The anaesthetist was Dr Robert Linton and The Queen's physician, Dr Richard Thompson, was in attendance. The Queen is expected to be fully active again within a few weeks. Her Majesty will rest at Sandringham over the next two weeks and will then resume a limited programme of engagements until she has made a full recovery.

The statement for Philip's hip replacement:

"The Duke of Edinburgh has undergone a successful hip replacement operation. He is progressing satisfactorily at this early stage. His Royal Highness is likely to remain in hospital for several days. He is comfortable and in good spirits.”

The statement for Philip's abdomen surgery:

"His Royal Highness the duke of Edinburgh has been admitted to the London Clinic for an exploratory operation following abdominal investigations. He is expected to stay in hospital for up to two weeks. Further updates will be issued when appropriate. He is in very good health."

The statement for Margaret's lung surgery:

″Princess Margaret underwent an operation at the Brompton Hospital yesterday for the removal of a small area of her left lung which proved to be innocent. Her condition is satisfactory and it’s expected that she will leave hospital within the week.″

The statement for Sophie's emergency operation:

"Her Royal Highness the Countess of Wessex is currently recovering in the King Edward VII Hospital following an emergency operation. The Countess was taken to hospital by air ambulance after feeling unwell overnight. She is expected to stay in hospital for the next few days. The Earl of Wessex has been with the Countess following her operation. I cannot comment on the nature of the operation. Her condition is described as comfortable."

And yet, all this hysteria surrounding Kate. Why?

Misogyny.

It's nothing to do with Charles being more transparent about his condition. In fact, one would argue that Charles had to be more forthcoming because he's the head of state and there's an expectation of duty. Look at how much detail is in the statement about The Queen's knee operation compared to the rest. That's the same amount of detail provided in the first statement about Charles's health issue. He didn't need to provide further detail about the cancer diagnosis; the palace could've just deferred to the original statement that he had to postpone public engagements for recuperation since they never provided a timeline on what that recuperation was supposed to look like other than "short." But "short" can be subjective.

Edit: I fixed the {body party} typo. 🤦‍♀️