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spockandawe · 3 years

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Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting.

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned.

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

#jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #disk horse #long post/#abuse/#only tangentially #but better safe than sorry i hope

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pleasereadmeok · 3 years

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Can you help me please? I'm sure you had an English translation of Matthew's interview with Style Italia (2017?) on your blog however I can't find it. Can you help? Thank you. A Goode fan x

Hi Anon - yes of course. This one right? ⬇️

It's such a great interview with some lovely personal details from Matthew. @di-elle kindly did a translation for the matthew-goode.net press archive a few years ago so that follows ⬇️. Enjoy. : -

Matthew Goode is one of the most recognizable British actors of his generation. 38 years old, tall, slender, handsome, with a face composed of classic proportions and precise features that lends itself to both modern settings and period dramas.A look that’s allowed him to dive immediately into the world of Match Point, Brideshead Revisited, The Imitation Game, and A Single Man. In the last season of Downton Abbey, he was one of the most beloved characters as Lady Mary’s husband, a role that brought him popularity with the television audience. Now he appears with Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard in Allied.Skill,talent, determination and a bit of luck (essential in this business) have made Goode a sought-after and versatile actor, without affecting his overwhelming pleasantness and playfulness onset and off that serve as useful talents as well.In the penthouse of the London hotel where he is being photographed, he strokes the oval marble bathtub sitting in the middle of the room (‘So cool!’), gets enthusiastic by touching the clothes, the collars of the shirts, and the wool of the jackets.

Do you like design?I love it, even if it is my wife who has the eye for it.In front of the mirror, in the barber’s and makeup artist’s hands, he is a bundle of energy. He is worried about Brexit (‘What’s happened? Where are we going?’) but happy to be able to buy a house. He is a little anxious, too, about the last phone call from his bank: ‘Being an actor means living day by day. Banks don’t like it.’

Psychologically what does it entail?During dry spells you can lose confidence and believe that you will never work again. It’s not easy.

However you are not lacking jobs. How was working on Allied?Movies are strange beasts. You come, you spend two days on the set, you shoot your own scenes and you go. Despite this it was electrifying as it can be a film of these proportions. There was an atmosphere of great professionalism and harmony. Brad Pitt is a great person. He welcomed me fondly, as did Marion Cotillard. I had already met them both, but they are always like that, even with those they don’t know.

Is variety important to you?It’s the essence of life, isn’t it? At the end the face and the voice are always those and if you specialize in a genre, it’s not easy to come out of it. It’s hard for me to resist period movies, it’s a great temptation. Costumes and interiors have a very strong charm.

Your name was made for the Bond role…I’ve sabotaged myself. Barbara Broccoli (the film producer) called me and I didn’t realize it was an audition. I thought it was just a chat. She asked me what I thought of Bond. I was honest , I told her that the way it is today doesn’t work. They need to scale down the budget, and make the character more complicated, go back to the origin from the books: a dark, difficult, incomprehensible man. At the end she said goodbye and I didn’t hear from her again. Maybe sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut.

Do you like going to movies?There’s a little bit of jealousy to overcome but generally yes. I’d like to see Tom Ford’s new movie, Nocturnal Animals. He is a genius, he has an eye like no other. A Single Man should have won more awards. Ford was born as a stylist but he is a real artist.

Are you not tempted to move to the USA?I have three children and I want them to grow up here. I don’t like to go too far away. I told my agent I don’t want to work in the US for a year.

Is Matthew Goode a good father?It depends on the days. The noise stresses me. If there are two children crying, or screaming, I panic. In those cases, my wife takes care of it.

What do you do at home?I cook. It’s less tiring than playing with a one-year-old child… I can do a little of everything: my father taught me the first recipes when I was about to start university. Over the years I have made a leap in quality, from scrambled eggs to stews.

Your best recipe?Beef and Guinness stew. Two or three parsnips, a couple of carrots, two onions, some mushrooms. Two pounds of meat, a little flour. Mix it up, then slap it in the pot. Salt, pepper, some herbs and some beer. I love it. You put it on, you go get the kids from school, and when you come back, the house smells of dinner.

The role you’ve always wanted.Sherlock Holmes. Damn it, Benedict Cumberbatch has stolen it from me! Joking aside, it’s Jeffrey Bernard in the comedy Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell, by Keith Waterhouse. Many years ago I saw Peter O’Toole in it and I’ve never forgotten. But you need to be 50 or 60 years old for it, so I’ll have to wait a little longer.

Did you want to be an actor as a child?My mother would say yes. Actually I discovered my path later in life. For a while I wanted to be an archaeologist, because my father was a geologist. One day one of my university mates went to audition for an acting school and I said: Why not, I should try it too. Finding an agent was a stroke of luck. Then the fight for survival began. It’s a slow and complicated road.

From the outside you look like someone who made it.(It may look that way) now, but like with everything when you start you are at the first step, you look up and say: I’ll never get there.

What’s your secret to overcome difficult moments?I have stopped watching the films I make. This has helped me a lot. You can’t control how they cut and edit your character. You can only control the experience, what you give and what gives to you. The result is almost insignificant. After a few years it can be fun watching yourself because you seem very young.

Do you practice sport a lot?I go to the gym in the morning, to start the day well. Twice a week I go out for lunch with my wife: and since I like to eat, and occasionally even drink, the gym is imperative. I also play golf but it takes time, it’s not an activity that fits well with a big family.

Your ideal holiday?I have fond memories of my childhood, camping with my father, the fishing rod, the green. I’d like to take my children. My wife resists for now.

What do you read?I hate to admit it, but I read very little. By the time I go to bed, I’m too tired.

A luxury?We’re planning how to sort out the house. If I could afford it I’d buy one of those enormous american washing machines with a tumble dryer. It’s not what you’d expect from a star, is it?

#matthew goode #asks #press archive 2017 #a discovery of witches #adow #just in case adow fans are interested

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

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i love you, say it back

wordcount: 1.8k

warning: you might gag it’s pretty fucking cute also there’s cursing there is always cursing

_____

“Hey, Soph.” Rafe tried snapping her out of her thoughts as she mumbled to herself, trying to calculate her midterm grades. Sophie had been chewing on her lip for the past ten minutes, anxious about if she could pull off an A in two of her classes or if she could manage a B+ on her global history midterm. “Hm?” She mumbled, keeping her eyes tracked on her calculation in her notebook.

“You’re stressing me out.” He nudged her foot under the table, trying to get her to look up. They were alone in her architecture lab, late at night, and Rafe was mainly keeping her company, just doing some homework while she was working on a model. It was a typical spot for them on Thursday nights, if he wasn’t able to convince her to go out instead.

“Oh I’m sorry, you’re free to leave then.” She replied, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Soph.” He tried catching her attention again, looking at her with a fond smile.

She glanced up with an apologetic look. “Sorry, didn’t mean it.”

“I know. Hey, let’s take a break, we’ve been here for five hours. What are you working on now?” Rafe came around and stood behind her, pulling her shoulders back to rub them.

She resisted for a second then let her head fall back, closing her eyes for a moment. “I’m figuring out my grades. I need at least an 84 on my global history midterm to pull it up, and I need a solid 87 on this model to keep my A in environmental studies, and an 88 on my other one to keep the A in programming, which is going to be fucking impossible, and -”

“You’ll be fine, baby, you’re a great student, you work hard. Take a break.” He urged, trying to tug her up out of her chair. She spun in the chair, looking up at him. “You don’t understand. I can’t, I still have at least 20 hours left on this one model.”

“You have a whole week -”

She scrunched up her nose in the familiar way she did when she was frustrated and Rafe had to resist grinning at her. He had made that mistake once, maybe twice, and she had just gotten pissed off that he wasn’t taking her seriously. “No, I have to get this portfolio perfect too. I’m applying to master’s programs next year and if I half-ass this project then it’ll show.”

He took her hands, tugging again to pull her up. “Soph, I love you, but you gotta stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Let’s take a break.”

I love you.

She froze and tuned out every single word after that, just blinking up at him.

“You what?”

“I said you need to stop putting -”

Sophie shook her head quickly. “No, before that. You said you loved me.”

Rafe raised his eyebrows, his arms going slack and he dropped her hands, exhaling slowly. “Oh. Did I?”

She spoke quickly, anxious, and grabbed one of his hands. “If you didn’t mean it that’s fine, I -”

“No!” He interrupted her and knelt down to her eye level in the chair. “I did! I do. I mean it.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, keeping eye contact and softened his voice a bit. “I love you.”

Sophie gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly nervous. “Really? Me?”

“Of course you.” He grabbed the chair beside her and pulled it to sit, then rubbed his thumb back and forth over her hand, growing tense again. “I wish it hadn’t just slipped out like that, but I’d been meaning to tell you.” He paused. “I’ve known for a while now, I think.”

She finally came to her senses and pulled him in with both hands on either side of his face, giving him a deep kiss. He finally relaxed and smiled against her lips. “I...you’re my favorite, you know?” She grinned.

He nodded and did his best to hold back his disappointment, his heart pounding in his ears and all he could think was she didn’t say it back. “Yeah. Better be.”

She kissed him again, long and slow, then pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against his. “I, um...I can’t...” Sophie trailed off, hoping he’d get the hint.

Rafe cocked his head. “Can’t what?”

She leaned away, biting her lip anxiously. “I can’t say it back. I’m sorry, it’s not like I don’t - I don’t know -”

His face fell for a moment but he recovered quickly, forcing a short smile. “Hey, hey.” He interrupted, cutting her off with a quick kiss. “I know. It’s okay. Let’s just... let’s go take a break. Walk around, move a little.”

“I don’t know, Rafe, I gotta finish this -”

“Not asking, angel.” He stood, tugging on her hands again. She gave him a wry smile, shaking her head. “You know what that does to me, not fair.” Rafe laughed and nodded. “I know. C’mon, I’ll drag you out of here if I have to. Ten minute walk and then I’ll let you work again.”

She laughed and stood, giving him a quick hug first. He caught her around the waist and wrapped his arms around her, tight. “Love you, Soph. You’re my girl, don’t forget it.” She only nodded, words on the tip of her tongue as she rested her head against his chest. “Hey Rafe?”

“What’s up?” He held her for a little while longer, smoothing his hand over her hair.

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled, not willing to look at him. She’d felt it coming from him for a while and had tried to prepare herself, but the weight of his words fell on her like a ton of bricks.

“You don’t need to apologize.” He kissed the top of her head, then let her go. “Come on, let’s go walk.” He cleared his throat. “Get your mind off of things.”

She didn’t need a translator to know what things meant.

Although every single instinct in Sophie was screaming at her to distance herself from Rafe for the next decade until he lost interest, she made herself continue to hang out with him like normal. She saw the way Rafe’s face dropped after she told him she couldn’t say it back and absolutely hated the way it made her feel - something that made her stop and think.

She’d never let herself get too attached in previous relationships, always being the one to break it off first. Usually she allowed herself a week-long maximum mourning period, then moved on to the next thing. The fact that Rafe even cared enough to say he loved her made her want to stay, to try, just for him.

Rafe was a little distant on his own part, trying not to get too upset with Sophie for not returning the sentiment. After all, he felt like he’d known since December - only two months into dating - and it didn’t feel right for him to say it then. He was a little hurt, but he’d also tried telling her at least twice already and chickened out. He just hoped she was feeling the same way.

Two weeks later, she snuck Rafe into the Theta house up the fire escape. She had just turned in her final project and declared a celebration was in order. He had the routine down by then - walk over, wait around the corner ‘til the coast was clear, hop the gate then come up the fire escape to the top floor. Allie and Julia were just leaving as he was climbing up the stairs, trying his best to keep quiet.

“Skip the fifteenth step.” Julia advised him as they watched him scale the stairs from the parking lot. Rafe paused, unable to place the voice in the dark and tucked a shoebox under his arm, not sure if he should hide or just run. “I’m not causing any trouble, I swear.” Allie laughed and shone her phone flashlight on him. “Just us, Cameron, we won’t tell.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “Is Soph up there waiting?”

“Yeah, will you convince her to come out with us tomorrow? She’s being lame.” Julia called out.

“I’ll do my best. Can you stop shining the light? I’m gonna get her in trouble.”

“Climb faster.” Allie teased as Sophie pushed open the door up top. “You two are the worst, you know that?” She called down, grinning as Rafe made it up.

“Yeah, yeah, you love us!” Julia yelled back, much louder than necessary. Sophie laughed and grabbed Rafe’s hand, pulling him down the hall and into her room quickly. “Are they gonna give me shit every time I come over?” He asked, smiling.

“Yeah, but it’s ‘cause they like you.” She raised her eyebrows. “What’s in the box?”

Rafe grinned, holding out the shoebox with a poorly-tied ribbon on top. “Made you something, to celebrate. Presentation isn’t quite there, but. It’s something.”

“Something.” She repeated, raising her eyebrows. Sophie took the box and untied the ribbon, then gasped when she opened it. “Rafe, you didn’t!” Inside were 7 cupcakes, haphazardly decorated with pink frosting - her favorite color.

He beamed, rocking back on his heels. “I hope they’re okay, I had to use the fancy ovens we have in the Delt kitchen. And it’s just from a box, but the box is normally okay, I think? James stole one - he didn’t know - but he thought it was good.”

She pulled out her phone to take a quick video of them first, then panned the video up to Rafe. He pushed her phone away with a grin, turning a little red. “It’s kind of cheesy, I guess. But. You deserve it. I’m proud of you.”

“God, I love you.” She breathed out, grinning ear to ear.

He paused for a moment, seeming to process, then came over and wrapped her in a tight hug. “You said it back.”

“I mean it.” She kissed him quickly, a blush on her cheeks. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He replied, pressing his lips to her forehead. She giggled and reached up, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “You have dried frosting on your face.” He scowled but let her rub it away. “Pretty sure there’s flour in my hair too.”

“How’d you know I wanted cake?”

“You mentioned it last week when we watched Matilda, you said you wanted to celebrate with it when you finished finals. But more importantly, you love me back.” He grinned.

“I do.” She laughed. “I mean it, too. I love you.”

“I could hear you say that for ages.” He smiled, looking pleased. “I swear I’ll never get tired of it.”

“Careful what you wish for.” She teased and reached up to kiss him again.

Rafe laughed against her lips, then pulled away just to press his forehead against hers. “I’m glad you waited, you know. I didn’t want you to say it back just to say it.”

“You know I would have held out longer if I didn’t mean it.” She nudged her nose against his. “You’re still my favorite though.”

He beamed and nudged her nose back. “Always my favorite, Soph.”

#rafe x sophie #mine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx fanfic #outer banks fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #college rafe #frat rafe

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pinktricksworld · 2 years

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She is tsunami

Life’s humbled me I have no time to think of myself

I’m just asking for a little help

My love’s a scared ocean you're a sailor going against the tides

Emotions guide the waves I’m telling you to find land and make it out alive

A common ground, where the ripples can still touch your hand

I’ll draw you small hearts in the sand

I want to rest my head next to yours

Forget about how bad it’s been before

I’d like to think we’re doing better

When I miss you I make up new letters

When I miss you I create my own language

When I can’t hear your voice the silence is anguish

When your voice is breaking my heart joins in too

Sometimes I’ve made you sad and didn’t know what to do

I accidentally hurt my bestest friend

Please God grant me perfection, cuz I can’t love myself if I do that again

Please I don’t want to feel alone

So can you spray all my stuffed animals in your cologne?

And you do it every single time

My gratitude list says I’m grateful that you’re mine

Your love is blinding to the darkness that consumes up all my time

You are the sun and I’m glad I was blessed with dark brown eyes

That I don’t have to squint them to see you Crystal clear

You lit up the paths and I’m happy you’re here

Your presence I’ll never take for granted

But I know it can feel that way when the words we’ve said done their damage

Pay attention to how I feel not what I say

Because my words simply cannot relay

I am bad at translating words from my mind

But when I process, write it down, and rewind

I realize I was never angry I just needed to cry

I needed to let the past go without asking why

I demanded clarity when the answers would lead me nowhere

Held others responsible for my emotions as if that was fair

I’ll admit, there are More days than some days

Where I forget to not repeat my same, stupid, old mistakes

I’m slow because I smoke

My friends all grew away from self harm and coke

I Never touched it

But I don’t have to snort off a table to be an addict

I shoplift, I drink,self diagnose , and sneak box cutters into my room

It’s funny that I think I could handle shrooms

Because I’ll never grow up growing old

My soul will never match its mold

Understand loving me is tolerating my sparks of immaturity

My screw ups especially because I’ll always be learning

Some days I won’t make it to the sink when the venom spills out

But I’ll clean up the messes I’ve made if you don’t sleep on the couch

I’ll stop drinking wine so you don’t see me puke

I’ll send all my friends back home and disable the nukes

I’ll pretend this water is vodka like in my corny pick up line

Make it to where the oxygens enough to get me high

Learn to enjoy the simple things

To dance everytime my ears begin to ring

If I learned how to make a hard life pleasurable

I wouldn’t need to be rich to feel on top of the world

Dollar spent is a dollar to waste

But I’ll throw away all my money just to see your pretty face

Bad days make me appreciate your smile

How it feels to hold you after being stuck at my house for awhile

You tell me you need to feel safe and loved too

So I let you be the small spoon

And if you’re needing more than that call for me

Take a few deep breaths calm down and come talk to me

I’m sorry I don’t always react the best

That I jump to worse case scenarios when you’re already stressed

I’m supposed to have better foundation as your shelter

Instead I fall apart over the false prophecies of fake fortune tellers

I cross my fingers to avoid it being self fulfilling

But the forces of nature don’t need me to be willing

I’m a deer in headlights and you’re an anxious driver

You hit the breaks but my fate is under the tires

And every time I make it out safely

I ask you “is the eye of the storm still worth chasing?”

#poetry #love #vent blog #bpd thoughts #poets on tumblr

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whoneedsapublisher · 2 years

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Lost in Love Translation

Yet more NozoNico. Day 14, "Love Languages". Happy Valentine's Day.

Words: ~500

Summary: Love languages don't always match up. And when they clash, it can be a little taxing.

Also on Ao3

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

Honestly, dating Nozomi was exhausting.

Not that Nico didn’t enjoy her company, or that she was having second thoughts about dating her. She still did love Nozomi, but… well, it turned out that when it came to romance, they were a little mismatched.

To Nico, love was… tricky to express directly. It was easier to just… try to make Nozomi happy. Making her favourite food, watching her favourite shows, spending time with her. It was easier to show that she loved her that way. In ways that didn’t feel so scary, that didn’t rub raw against the sensitive parts of her that she exposed by being emotionally vulnerable with Nozomi.

Nozomi, though, wasn’t like that. She was affectionate, fawningly so. She was always clinging to Nico, rubbing up against her, and saying how much she loved her. It wasn’t as if Nico didn’t like being told that Nozomi loved her, and she was hardly repelled by her girlfriend’s touch, but it felt… awkward. Even a little stressful, sometimes. Nico felt awkward saying “I love you” back every time Nozomi said it, and just as awkward not saying it back. And Nozomi clinging to her sometimes felt a little suffocating.

But on Valentine’s Day, she forced herself. She woke Nozomi up with a kiss, making sure that “I love you, Nozomi,” was the first thing she heard that day. She clung to Nozomi’s hand, curling up close to her and setting into a cuddle for most of the morning on the couch, only getting up to the cook. For the rest of her day, she continued to keep forcing herself to say it, to express her feelings. It was embarrassing. It felt awkward. And it was tiring. By the end of the day, Nico was about ready to collapse. But it made Nozomi happy, so it was worth it.

On White Day, though, Nico got a surprise. For once, Nozomi wasn’t clingy. Nico woke up to find that Nozomi had made her breakfast, and gotten her an idol concert DVD for the two of them to watch together. And Nozomi didn’t even get all that cuddly when they were on the couch together.

That must have been hard for her too, just like Valentine’s had been hard for Nico.

Eventually, Nico hoped, things would be easier for them. Saying “I love you” to Nozomi wouldn’t make her feel slightly anxious anymore. Cuddling for long periods of time wouldn’t make her want to pull away out of Nozomi’s arms so much. And Nozomi would be content for them to be at arms length a little more often. Wouldn’t feel the need to reaffirm her feelings quite so frequently. They’d find a happy medium where Nozomi wouldn’t fidget and throw longing glances at Nico, wanting to touch her more, and Nico wouldn’t squirm in Nozomi’s embraces. For now, though, their relationship took some work to keep going.

But there was one thing Nico knew wouldn’t change. Something that had been true from the start, that she was sure would stay true right up until the end.

It was all so, so worth it.

#love live #nozonico

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cheri-translates · 4 years

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[CN] Victor’s Delicacy Date (Eng Translation)

🍒Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers!🍒

Note: This is a cancelled date which will unlikely come to EN :’(

More from this Collection: Gavin // Kiro // Lucien

The date begins with MC sitting in for a negotiation meeting between Loveland Financial Group (“LFG”) and Yuan Shan Company

The negotiation has been dragging on for 2 hours because both sides cannot agree on a price

Victor has been silent and no one knows what’s going through his mind

When he finally speaks, MC is startled because she has never seen Victor in full-blown work mode before

Lots of business jargon follow. Victor is basically really badass and shows he has done detailed research on Yuan Shan Company and knows that it’s not worth the money they are asking for:

Victor: You think LFG needs to rely on the little credit standing Yuan Shan has? Or do you think you’re in a position to discuss terms with me?

Victor: An LFG without Yuan Shan will still be LFG. Without LFG, what would Yuan Shan become?

Victor: I don’t plan to rescue a company that has decided to “commit suicide”.

Victor gives the representative of Yuan Shan Company another chance to re-consider, then leaves the room.

While MC is out for a breather, she overhears employees from Yuan Shan gossiping about Victor:

Yuan Shan Employee A: I heard early on that Victor is no-nonsense at work, but I never thought he’d be so…

Yuan Shan Employee B: He’s so domineering and arrogant, though you can’t deny he’s cool.

Yuan Shan Employee C: Sure, he’s cool, but if you were to live with him, the stress would be akin to shouldering an entire mountain.

Yuan Shan Employee A: What do you mean?

Yuan Shan Employee C: He’s basically an ice sculpture. I felt like I was going to suffocate in the meeting room… tch. His words are vicious! He’s so harsh! He clearly wants to swallow us up whole.

This lady… She actually gets it…

Yuan Shan Employee C: Also, I heard that last month, he fired an elderly worker who had been working here for five years because of some trivial reason.

MC: !?

Yuan Shan Employee A: Is that true? Don’t spread false rumours!

Yuan Shan Employee C: I already said I heard it from someone. Though… seeing him today, I wouldn’t rule it out as a possibility.

Yuan Shan Employee B: Just think about it. If he isn’t hard-hearted, how could LFG grow into what it is today in just 8 years? I also heard…

Their voices trail off, and I’m unable to hear what the employees say after this.

I originally saw Victor as just being plain overbearing, but I never thought…

MC starts getting flooded with memories of how Victor points out minor issues in her reports, his red-inked comments haunting her.

In the midst of her trembling, she sees Victor coming her way.

I panic and shift backwards, almost tripping because of my shaky feet. Victor quickly reaches out and steadies me.

At this moment, his black eyes, which look as deep as the sea, betray no hint of emotion. His frown, however, carries slight reproach.

Feeling shocked, I tear myself from his grip and jump to the side.

MC: S-sorry!

Before Victor says anything, he can only watch the girl’s retreating form as she hurriedly runs away.

Goldman: CEO, do you think MC is a little weird today, like she’s gotten possessed…

Victor doesn’t respond, only watching as MC grows smaller and smaller into the distance. He looks to be deep in thought.

MC continues to feel anxious as the afternoon goes on.

MC: Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it!

Victor: Don’t think about what?

Turning my head, I see a cold-faced Victor standing behind me.

MC: …!

Caught off guard, I am once again shocked out of my senses. With a ‘clang’, my lunch box falls to the ground.

Victor looks at the sight on the floor and frowns.

Victor: Why are you afraid?

MC: …Nothing…

I hurriedly squat to clean up the mess, but he reaches out to pull me up.

Victor: Come to the office with me.

MC: W-what do you want?

Victor doesn’t turn around, leaving me with the sight of his back.

Victor: There’s some wrong data in your report.

The curtains in the office are drawn and sunlight pours in through the window. The air is warm, but the only thing I feel is coldness.

The only sound in the room is the rustling of paper as Victor flips through the documents.

I stand in front of his office desk, like a child who has been punished.

After an inordinate amount of time, Victor finally speaks.

Victor: Do you have any questions for me?

I nod my head mindlessly, and then hurriedly shake my head.

In my heart, I mutter, “Weren’t you the one who came asking me about the wrong data…”

Victor: None? Very good. But I have a question for you.

Victor folds his arms on the desk and looks at me.

Victor: You’ve been avoiding me today?

MC: N-no I have not!

Victor: How so?

MC: …

I have nothing to say in response, and lack the guts to look at Victor. I stare at my toes.

I hear the sound of him getting up and his footsteps coming towards me. I feel his breath on my skin. I instinctively shift backwards, but he holds on to my waist to stop me.

I hear his voice from the top of my head.

Victor: Am I very scary?

I’m frozen to the spot, unable to answer.

The palm of his hand is slightly warm. The heat seeps through my clothes and onto my skin. I have nowhere to escape.

Victor: You look as if…

Victor pauses and lets out a sigh.

Victor: I let you sit in during the negotiation for you to learn. Not to let your wild imagination be used for things that serve no purpose. Ask me directly if you have any questions, instead of troubling your own IQ.

MC: …

Victor and his usual snarky comments.

I lift my head to look at Victor. His eyes lack the same coldness they had during the negotiation, but they carry an unreadable emotion.

This person… is he trying to explain himself because he can sense that I am avoiding him…

Victor: Do you still have any questions for me?

MC: …Yes, I have one question.

Victor: Speak your mind.

MC: …I heard that an elderly worker made a tiny mistake, one that could be ignored, but you fired him?

Victor: You’re very free today. You even have time to listen to gossip.

I duck my head slightly in embarrassment. Victor sees this and laughs in a low voice. I feel his grip on my waist tighten.

Victor: What else?

I shake my head.

Victor: Listen well. I don’t have the time to bother myself with trivial mistakes. Furthermore, firing someone requires legitimate and reasonable justifications.

I feel Victor releasing another sigh. After pondering for a moment, he continues.

Victor: As for the negotiation earlier… that’s a necessary technique.

He really looks like… he’s explaining himself to me.

Right now, Victor may not be gentle, but he doesn’t come across as aggressive.

Victor: Are you still scared?

With my face beet red, I shake my head again. Satisfied, Victor retracts his hand.

Victor: All right. Make a reservation at a restaurant then.

MC: Huh?

Why does he suddenly want to make a reservation? I haven’t even corrected the data yet…

Victor, as though reading my thoughts, continues.

Victor: Even though your data is strange, it doesn’t stump me.

MC: …

Victor: Don’t forget the restaurant.

MC: How about Souvenir?

Victor casts me a glance.

Victor: I’m very busy today.

I nod my head vigorously. He spent the entire morning on the negotiation, and having to cook at night… Even King Kong would be tired to the point of paralysis.

MC: I didn’t ask what kind of restaurant Victor wanted, or who he was going with…

MC leaves the office and looks for a restaurant on her phone. She finally decides on one and notifies Victor, who doesn’t reply. After a successful negotiation with Yuan Shan, he calls out to her:

Victor: Let’s go for dinner.

He says this naturally, but I don’t know how to react.

MC: …Don’t you have plans tonight?

Victor: You picked the restaurant yourself, so I should like it.

The restaurant is in a rather inconvenient location, so they have to walk quite a distance to reach it. MC is wearing an uncomfortable pair of stilettos. He notices that her expression is off.

Victor looks at my stilettos, takes my hand in his, and slows down his pace.

Victor: Idiot.

The temperature of his hand flows into other parts of my body. Although only a mere second passed, both my cheeks are already flushed. I unconsciously wiggle my fingers but his hand simply grips even more tightly instead.

Victor: Such thin high heels, are you trying to sprain your ankle?

MC: Of course not!

Victor: Then be obedient.

He doesn’t continue, leading me to the restaurant slowly.

MC: Victor, why did you suddenly invite me to dinner? I thought you were going to eat with some important guest, so I specially picked this…

…exorbitantly priced restaurant with a meal that will take hours to complete…

Victor: What, do you want to go somewhere else?

MC: …No need!

They proceed to have an evening of fine dining.

Victor: I didn’t expect that you’d be competent at picking out a restaurant.

MC: What do you mean by “didn’t expect”? It’s just picking a restaurant. My work is so much better than this…

The corners of Victor’s lips waver, but he doesn’t speak.

Under the warm yellow lights, I suddenly feel that the Victor in front of me and the Victor earlier in the day are two completely different people.

I ponder for a moment and decide to ask a question.

MC: Are the reports I give you really that bad? Is that why…

Victor continues ladling his soup, lifting his eyes towards me.

Victor: When I pick out mistakes, it means you have space for improvement.

Even though his answer is short, he says it seriously.

Their meal takes hours to complete.

While walking out the door, Victor naturally takes my hand in his.

Victor: Why is your hand so cold?

MC: Maybe the food we ate just now was on the colder side?

Victor: Let’s find a place to have something warm.

MC: Huh?

Did Victor not have enough?

The portions just now were quite small, and easy to digest.

It’s already late, so most restaurants would be closed…

I think for a moment.

MC: How about going to a food street for supper!

As predicted, Victor’s expression reveals a look of distaste.

MC: It’s really delicious… I always have wonton and spicy stir-fried river snail there with Willow and Kiki!

[Note] Wonton is a type of Chinese dumpling

Seeing how my eyes sparkle excitedly, Victor can only give in.

Victor: All right.

Victor parks his car outside the food street and they go to the store.

MC: Boss, I want a big portion of spicy stir-fried river snail! And two bowls of wonton!

Boss: Yo MC, you’re alone today? Where are the other two ladies?

MC: They’re busy so they can’t come. I’m not alone though!

I introduce the boss to Victor, who is standing behind me with a cold expression on his face.

MC: This… this is my friend Victor.

Boss: Ah, this lad is not bad, rather serious hahaha~ Lad, spicy or non-spicy?

Victor: Either way is fine.

Boss: This MC – she can’t take spicy food but always wants maximum spiciness, and even adds a layer of chili powder into the soup hahahaha~

A little embarrassed, I stick out my tongue.

MC: That’s only because your wontons and chili powder are just so delicious that I can’t do without them!

Victor looks at me, his voice carrying with it a rare smile.

Victor: Wouldn’t have expected you to have such a quirk.

MC: What “quirk”? This is clearly an interest… No, a hobby!

Victor arches an eyebrow.

Victor: Quirk. It means the person has an interest that differs from other people.

MC: Fine fine fine, and this CEO likes collecting small toys!

Victor’s expression suddenly falls. Meanwhile, I continue treading these dangerous grounds.

MC: For example, a cute lamp…

Victor: …

The food is served and Victor tries them.

Victor: I’ve never had such… interesting food in a long time. It tastes very good.

MC: Ah? … Which tastes better – this or the food from the restaurant just now?

Victor taps the bowl of wontons and points to the food in front of us, probably saying that the food here tastes better.

I smile, my eyes crinkling in happiness.

MC: Come to think of it, the best things I’ve eaten would be the food you make, and the food prepared by the boss here would be in second place.

Victor laughs lightly.

Victor: You dummy. Food doesn’t exist solely to pander to one’s tastes or to fill one’s stomach. There’s something more important - “companionship”.

MC: ?

Victor: It’s okay if you don’t understand.

MC: I understand!

Victor turns to look at me, a serious look on his face. I think for a moment before speaking.

MC: It means that when you eat with certain people, even delicacies can become tasteless. And when you eat with certain people, even cold soup can become excellent!

Victor: Although the way you express it is a little lacking, the idea not wrong.

Must Victor’s agreement carry with it a flavor of ridicule as well…

When I look up again, I notice some sauce at the corner of Victor’s lips.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed, taking his time to finish the food in front of him.

Seeing him like this, I let out a laugh.

MC: Victor, come here a little~

Victor: ?

Victor leans towards me.

I reach out to help him wipe off the traces of sauce. He is stunned for a moment, then grabs onto my hand before I can retract it. His warmth travels across my entire body.

Suddenly, time seems to have stopped…

Under the luster of the lights, the steam from the food rises. Victor’s face seems to fill my entire vision. I can hear the faint noise from the crowd, food stall owners shouting, the sound of food being cooked…

These sounds tell me that time is ticking on…

It’s just… me…

I feel a thin layer of Victor’s breath slowly encasing my surroundings. I can almost hear his heart beat. It beats with strength.

He looks at my shocked expression, and slowly opens his mouth.

Victor: Just now, you asked why I invited you to join me for dinner. I think you already know the reason.

Through the steam, I can see a rare tenderness in his eyes. As well as the seriousness that has never left.

Victor: I know people think I’m unreasonable, or even scary. But the last thing I want is for you to be that person.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc victor #mlqc spoilers #love and producer #cncancelled

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passionatefanfictionbka · 3 years

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Chrianna Short: Selling Dreams

A/N: An old short that was sitting in my drafts. Figured I finish it and post it. Enjoy!

Rihanna looked around her house and huffed before she just started grabbing photos and items that were spread out and mixed in with her decor. She had spent enough time playing this role and she wanted her life back, as much back of it that she could get. She grabbed a huge duffel bag and started throwing things into it. Just as she went to clear off the table behind her couch, she bumped into Melissa.

“Damn Girl, where you rushing off too?” Mel asked as she gingerly rubbed her shoulder.

“Nowhere. I didn’t see you there. When’d you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. You obviously didn’t hear me come in either.”

“Yea, I was cleaning up and wasn’t paying attention.”

“Cleaning up what?” Mel looked around the room, “where’s all the pictures? Don’t you think he’s gonna be a little suspicious?”

“I don’t care what he is especially since he’s not my problem.”

“How is your man not your problem?”

“He’s not my man. Never was. Don’t know how many times I have to say that.”

“Well according to media and your PR, he was your man so outside of this house he was your man. What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m finished.”

“Finished what?”

“I’m finished lying. I’m finished pretending. I’m tired, Mel.”

“Does he know that?”

“I don’t give a fuck what he does or doesn’t know.”

“Whoa there, what is going on?”

“I just told you. I’m finished.”

“Robs, that’s not it. Something happened.”

“Nothing happened, honest. I’m really just over all of this. The trips and shit, it gets really boring after a while, especially if it's not with who you want to be with.”

“Chris know you done?”

“This has nothing to do with him either.”

“That’s not what I asked you. Does Chris know you are done?”

“He knows I was thinking about it.”

“Before me?”

“I didn’t want the judgment, Mel.”

“When have I ever judged you?”

“Not out loud but I could feel the way you’ve been looking at me since this started.”

“That wasn’t judgment, that was disappointment. I told you from the beginning that this wasn’t a good idea. You’ve been letting PR run your life for the last few years and just when I thought you were settled into your own, you let them pull you right back in.”

“Mel, I made the decision to go along with it.”

“For what purpose other than media bullshit?”

“It wasn’t media bullshit to me.”

“And what was it to Chris then?”

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“You might want to.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m right behind you.”

Rihanna jerked around at the sound of Chris’s voice. She smiled before she could catch herself and Chris chuckled, “you look more shocked than I thought you would be. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Why? How are you here?”

“I drove here, what do you mean?”

“How’d you even know I was in town? I didn’t call you.”

“You normally don't and somehow I still have perfect timing,” Chris walked towards her and plopped down in an armchair, “besides I could always sense when something was wrong and considering this room, I was right.”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“You don’t pull a Bernadine in Waiting to Exhale for nothing. What’s going on?”

“I really don’t have to answer you.”

“You don't but you will. Eventually.”

Melissa laughed causing Rihanna to remember she was in the room, “there is nothing funny about this.”

“Oh there’s a lot funny but I’m gonna go to my room and laugh. It’s tense in here.”

Melissa patted Chris’s shoulder as she walked past him to leave the living room. Rihanna turned her attention back to him, “why are you here, Chris?’

“I told you that I sensed something was wrong and...I miss you.”

“I just saw you in New York.”

“That was well over two months ago. Still not used to these long gaps.”

“We’ve dealt with longer.”

“That’s when we really didn’t have any options.”

“Who says now that we do have options?”

“We did especially once we started this up again.”

“This what?”

“What? Does your nigga have the room wired for sound or you just acting dense on purpose?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused.”

“You don’t get to barge in my house in the middle of my recharging session, demanding answers to shit that isn’t your business.”

“All of this is my business.”

“Really? How?”

“Because you’re my business and have been over the last decade. I told you this from Matt to Drake to this Arab nigga, I don’t give a fuck about no PR stunts and relationships, we’ve been in this from the beginning and it hasn’t changed. When I feel like something is wrong, I’m gonna come whether you ask me to or not, guns blazing if I have to. We’ve been good for this long so clearly something has changed if you giving me attitude like this and I haven’t seen you in so long.”

Rihanna sighed and ran her fingers through her hair before settling her hands on her waist. Chris was right; he didn’t do anything he wouldn’t normally do when she came in town and she was overreacting.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just- I don’t know.”

“What is it? Is the pressure getting to you? Are you changing your mind? We’ve been communicating so well up until now, just let me know what’s up.”

“It's not you. I just don’t have my head on too straight.”

“Then let me help you, all you gotta do is talk to me, you know that.”

“I know Babe, it’s just- I’m still trying to figure it out. I feel out of control.”

“So stop trying to figure it out and just relax. You’re not gonna gain more control by acting out of control. Forcing things has never been helpful for you.”

“You’re right.”

“So sit down. Stop trying so hard to make things happen and just let them happen.”

Rihanna frowned and Chris chuckled, “what’s the matter, Baby Girl?”

“When the hell you’d get so wise?”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. Now can I get a proper greeting or you still taking your anger out on me?”

Rihanna rolled her eyes and she moved to sit on Chris’s lap. He kissed her and she laid her head on his shoulder, “I wasn’t taking my anger out on you. I was just frustrated.”

“Same difference.”

Chris made circles on her exposed thigh with his fingertip, “I missed you. Why didn’t you call me when you got in town?”

“Because I’m not staying long. I’m actually out of here tomorrow.”

“Even more reason why you should’ve called me.”

“I also didn’t come here by myself.”

“Ah, now that makes sense. Where’s your Arab money?”

“Fuck you.”

Chris laughed, “I’m serious. Where he at?”

“He left already.”

“Argument?”

“Gotta actually talk to have an argument. I’m just over everything and told him to go. Services no longer needed.”

“Should’ve never enlisted them in the first place.”

“I am not having this discussion with you again, Chris.”

“We’re not, I’m just saying.”

“No more saying. You’ve expressed your dislike with the arrangement enough over the last year or so. You didn’t like him, I get it.”

“So you my girl again or nah?”

“Always been yours.”

“But am I still sharing you or no?”

“No.”

“That’s all I need to hear.”

“But we’re not together, Chris.”

“By whose definition?”

“Anybody’s definition. I need time, Chris.”

“I can give you time. I’ve always given you that.”

“I mean real time. Not you sitting in the corner, staring at your watch and willing me to hurry up time.”

“I do not- nevermind.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Well what do you expect? We were on a good path, babies, marriage, rings and then you spring him on me. Everytime I agree to give you time, you end up giving your time to somebody else. Regardless if it’s a real relationship or not, you’re giving time you promised to me, to somebody not me so yea, it makes me hesitate with this time shit.”

“It’s not like you’ve been waiting all alone.”

“Actually I have. Commenting on IG and shit doesn’t mean nothing when it doesn't translate to real life. ‘I’ve been chilling, minding my business, and taking care of myself. I’ve done nothing but wait by myself.”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“You’ve never asked me to do a lot of things but you knew I would, did you not?”

“I did.”

“So I rest my case.”

“This isn’t easy, Chris.”

“I never said it was but you aren’t making it any easier either.”

“Clearly.”

“So what exactly is your next step?”

“Haven’t figured it out yet. I really don’t know what I want or what I want to do.”

“Just chill for a minute. Give yourself time to relax and actually sleep for a while, it’ll come to you.”

“You’re always good for a positive thought.”

“I don’t like seeing you stressed out, Baby Girl. Makes me anxious and puts me on offense.”

“Chris, you can't protect me from myself.”

“I can try.”

Rihanna laughed as she leaned up to kiss his lips, “what’s your plans?”

“I came here for you. It’s up to you.”

“I just needed to clear my head, probably should’ve come here alone in that case.”

“That’s very true but you also had an image to upkeep so a certain presence makes sense.”

Rihanna sighed, “can I quit?”

“You can do whatever you want to do. Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’re my conscience right now. Can I quit?”

“Depends on why you want to quit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you quitting because you’re done or because you’re running?”

Rihanna went to say something then closed her mouth. Chris gently rubbed her thigh, “I am the last person to be giving advice on anything because I still don’t completely have my shit together but I do know what happens when you make decisions based on fear and not fact. I’ve wasted great opportunities doing it.”

“Like?”

“Our entire relationship. Past and present.”

“We’ve both done it if that’s the case.”

“We have, I just actually acknowledge it.”

“I really have no idea what to do.”

“You could start by stopping selling the public dreams.”

“What?”

“You keep pulling people into your PR antics, and that’s what they are no matter how you try to justify it, for the sake of keeping up an image that the public is comfortable with instead of actually being yourself. You being a savage is a cover. You being this pick ‘em and dump ‘em person is a cover. All a mask. You are selling them a version of you that is not real.”

“How would you know that it’s not real?”

“Because I know you. I know you in ways that the public would never get to know you. That’s why you burn out so quickly. That’s why you can’t commit to whatever you’re doing for so long because you’re not being true to you.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re included in what I want to do.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true. Listen, I’ve been out of the picture for extended periods of time and you still stick to the script. You pick people who you don’t really like because you know that they can’t hurt you. I pick people because they’re easy to get and easy to dismiss. I go for ease. You go for comfort.”

Rihanna sucked her teeth as she folded her arms across her chest, “I don’t agree with that.”

“I can accept that, don't make what I said wrong though.”

“So what about you?”

“What about me? I am a complete and utter fuck up at times, I’m transparent about that. I play games to distract myself and others from reality. I bullshit myself a lot but I know it. I accept it therefore I accept the consequences that come from it. You, on the other hand, not so much.”

“Are you saying that I don’t accept accountability?”

“Yea, pretty much.”

Rihanna pushed off his lap and moved to grab the duffel bag she was holding earlier, “Wow, tell me how you really feel.”

“Baby Girl, if you accept accountability, you wouldn’t be lying and justifying things to anyone, especially not to yourself. You wouldn’t be cleaning out the pictures of a man that you publicly entertained for a year even though you didn’t like him. You wouldn’t be hiding and letting the world turn you into a recluse, just to do what you want to do. You wouldn’t be teasing albums when all you really want to do is make clothes and make up. You’d be upfront and honest regardless of others’ reactions. The fact you haven’t and you can’t even verbally express why without providing justifications for it is exactly why we’re having this conversation. None of this can happen without your participation. You have to be accountable for that.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“That’s fine.”

“And I’d like you to leave.”

“That’s fine too.”

“Are you serious?”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you or make you feel worse but we’ve prided ourselves on being honest with each other thus far so I don’t regret what I’ve said. I’m not judging you because we do what we have to do to survive,” Chris stood up and straightened his pants, “I’ve done worse. I’ve fucked up my life worse so I’m telling you from experience. IF you want to quit, you need to be honest with yourself about why and once you do that, you need to be honest about how you got to this point in the first place. That’s the only way for you to quit in peace because the change of outside circumstances doesn’t get rid of the issues inside you. That much I know for sure even though I’m still figuring out what comes next.”

“And this makes you so much better than me, huh?”

“Absolutely not. I’m still fucking up but I’m honest with myself about why and work on how to not do it again. I backslide every once in a while but I’m human. Maybe if you accepted that part about you, you wouldn’t be working so hard to keep up this image for the world.”

“I went back to you after everything we’ve been through, that wasn’t enough?”

“Wow. I hoped you came back to me because you wanted to, not to make me your redemption story. If loving me was the worst thing you think you’ve done as a human, that’s on you. I think. I’m just your most public mistake. Don’t confuse the two.”

“I never said you were a mistake.”

“Nope but you’re saying it as if our second chance was the only thing you’ve done that others’ didn’t accept. You’re protected but you’re not invincible.”

“Sounds like you want me to fail.”

“I want you to be honest with yourself about who you are so you can stop acting like what you’re pretending to be isn’t a bunch of bullshit. I want you to be successful while being you, the real you.”

“Chris.”

“Rih, Baby Girl, there’s really nothing else to say and I think I’ve pissed you off enough for the night.”

Chris walked over and kissed her cheek before he started walking towards the door, “Tell Mel I said bye. Oh, and you missed a couple pictures on the console.”

He left.

“You know he’s actually right, Robs. He might be a fuck up sometimes but he’s an honest one,” Melissa said as she walked into the room.

“I’m guessing you heard,” Rihanna replied.

“I did. I thought y’all were about to start arguing so I was standing in the hallway.”

“No need. He doesn’t really like to argue with me anymore.”

“That bothers you.”

“It does.”

“Why?”

“It’s uncomfor-” Rihanna stopped mid-sentence, “Am I really that bad? Do I really avoid accountability like that?”

“Nobody can answer that but you. Maybe you really do need time. I’m not saying to shut down into complete isolation but you need to really think about your life and how you want to live it moving forward. Nobody is saying that the world needs to know everything but at least let what you do decide to let them in on, be honest and true to you. If you don’t want to do music or if you only want to do it on your own time, be honest about it. If you want to date, do it but be honest about it. You can be private without treating your personal life as a secret. The best savages are the honest ones.”

Chris had just pulled into his driveway when his phone rang with a FaceTime call. He put the car in park then slid over the answer key, “Hey Baby Girl.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I do. I overreacted and it wasn't fair especially since you came all that way to see me.”

“And you had all right to tell me to leave if you no longer wanted me there. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Are you home yet?”

“I just pulled into the driveway. What’s up?”

“Can I stop by?”

“Sure. I’ll order something for us.”

“OK. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

“Cool.”

#chrianna shorts

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chris-evans-indian-fanfic · 4 years

Text

Finger Painting

One shot

This is for one of my most favourite writer's challenge! My one-shot entry for @jtargaryen18 writing challenge for her and Chris Evans' birthday month 😄

Description - It's been a month since the reader (Y/N) and Chris Evans have started dating. As the reader is plump around the stomach and the hips, she feels awkward having sex with Chris and so, has been putting it off. But what happens when Chris walks in on her "finger painting"?

Warning - Female masturbation, mentions of porn

Only 18+ proceed!

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

Moodboard is by the wonderful @donutloverxo ! Show her some love people 🥰

1 month, 4 days, 2 hours and 26 minutes ago, your dreams had come true. You had started dating Chris Evans! The two of you had met at an axe-throwing club, where you worked. Chris had failed to hit the axe on the wooden board, multiple times. After his first few futile attempts, his group of friends had started teasing him relentlessly, which had further made him anxious.

You had seen him fidgeting with his hands, his breaths shallow as he kept running his hands through his hair. You recognised the signs of anxiety when you saw them, being a victim of anxiety bouts yourself. That's enough, you had decided and taken it upon yourself to share some tips. Chris had followed your instructions and hit his mark, successfully silencing his friends.

After then, he had visited the club almost every week for 5 months. He often offered to buy you a cup of coffee "in exchange for sharing your wise axe-throwing wisdom" he had put it. Putting your anxiety at bay, you had finally given in.

You smiled remembering the coffee-date. It was a simple under $20 date but it had been full of priceless, magical moments. The warm coffee in your hands, soft and crunchy chocolate chip cookies, slow walk under the gorgeous yellow and orange autumn trees, and a lifetime worth of conversations to keep you both company.

After a few more of such simple dates, Chris had officially asked you to be his girlfriend. Still high from the magical date, you had agreed without a second thought.

What you didn't realise was that while dating Chris was a dream come true, it was also as if one of your worst nightmares had come alive.

You found yourself constantly wondering how can someone like him date someone like you?! While you were sure Chris was sculpted by Michelangelo himself, on the other hand, you knew that you were the inspiration for the Michelin tire mascot. And so, even after dating him for 1 month, 4 days, 2 hours and 45 minutes, you still couldn't muster the strength to get physical with him.

While Chris hadn't made any moves to get intimate with you, you knew time would come wherein you would have to either talk to him about it, or get naked in front of him. You didn't like either of those prospects.

Sighing, you laid down on your bed, feeling down after a long day at work. You needed to make yourself feel good. You needed a release.

As you prepared for your bath, you heard your mobile ring. "Hey baby," Chris' voice sounded cheerful on the other end of the call, "wanna watch a movie tonight?"

"Hey Chris, I am too tired. I think I will just go to bed."

"Awww. Are you going to sleep already? Did you eat?" he inquired.

"I was actually about to take a bath, then eat," you replied.

"You sound so stressed baby. Why don't you do some finger painting? I am sure that will make you feel better," Chris suggested.

You have no idea, you thought. "Yeah that's a good suggestion. I will do that."

"You should. I bet they are masterpieces," he said, subtly expressing his desire to view her finger paintings, again.

"Hehe yeah," you laughed awkwardly, "I got to go now. Will take to you tomorrow, 'kay?" you said, eager to cut the call.

"Mmm okay. Take care of yourself baby," said Chris.

Chris found it weird that you had never shown him any of your paintings. Plus, you also avoided the question or were quick to change the topic. With curiosity getting better of him, he decided to head for your place, picking up wine, flowers and chocolates along the way.

After the long bath, you laid on the bed. Legs parted, your left hand immediately went to your bare sex, foregoing all the formality with your breasts. Your right hand browsed through Chris' video interviews on your mobile phone. While porn had worked well for you earlier, it just wasn't good enough anymore. You didn't find those naked, muscular men attractive now.

Selecting your favourite video interview of Chris, you played it on your speaker. His deep and strong voice blared on the loudest volume, while his bearded face, and a tight tshirt hugging his muscles filled your smartphone screen. You were already getting wet, your fingers easily diving through your folds. Time to do some finger painting.

When Chris reached your apartment, he heard a muffled male voice through the door. He tried the broken doorbell and when you didn't answer his knocks, he used the spare key hidden under the welcome mat to enter.

At first, he was surprised to hear a male voice talking on the speaker. He thought maybe you were listening to a podcast. But there was something familiar about the voice...

After a moment, realisation struck! You were watching his interview! Aaawww which meant you were missing him. Good thing he came down to pamper you.

Wishing to surprise you, he sneaked around the living room and entered the kitchen, only to find it empty. Then he heard a small moan from your bedroom. He carefully entered through the ajar door and found one of the most sexiest sights in front of him.

You were sprawled on the bed, your back arched just the tiniest bit as you rapidly thrusted 2 fingers inside of you, with your other hand fondling your bundle of nerves. He raised his eyebrows and smirked, finally understanding the meaning behind finger painting.

He slowly started rubbing his growing erection as you neared your release. You ended your ministrations with an exclamation, your body hitting the mattress as relaxation flooded through you. A peaceful smile crept up on your face, as you felt your release seeping between your thighs.

You screamed with shock as 200 pounds of drop-dead-gorgeous landed on top of you. 2 twinkling eyes, filled with lust and a cocky smirk flashed above you. "Honey, if this is what you call finger painting, then I would love to dip my brush in your paints," Chris said right before he captured your lips with his.

That was it. All it took was a hungry, sexual and passionate kiss to drive away all of your doubts, your anxiety.

You almost laughed at the speed with which Chris disposed off his clothes, his hard and unyielding body merging together with your soft, plump frame, eliminating all the distance between you two.

#30DaysOfChris2020 #chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chrisevans #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans x reader #Chris Evans x overweight reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #smut #chris evans smut #30 days of Chris 2020 #chris evans imagines #chris evans interview #chris evans imagine

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ladieswttda · 4 years

Text

Guns N’ Roses Daughter’s ( Dad!Axl Rose x Teenager!FemReader)

Description: ( This fic will take place in 2020, but without the virus) Y/N, the youngest and only daughter of Axl Rose, the infamous vocalist of the most dangerous band in the world, will go through the problems of adolescence, but not without the help of her best friends and their parents, that maybe ou maybe not be in the same band of her father.

Warning: None, just fluff and Axl being the sweet pie he would be as a parent.

Words: 1440

Note: Hi guys! This is my first fanfic on tumblr ( I have some on wattpad, in the future I will translate them to here. I already apologize if I commit grammar mistakes, because THIS IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE :) . Another thing, this will be a series, not only a solo imagine. And lastly the band will be the CLASSIC FORMATION, as if Steven and Izzy never left the band. I hope all of you like, please reblog! Enjoy...

It was somewhere near three in the morning, when Y/N decided she was tired of turning and turning on her bed. Even Dijon, the cat ,was tired of her trying to sleep and unintentionally hitting him with her leg! She could tell by his angry mewl that it was getting on his nerves.

" I'm sorry, Diji." She murmured kissing his head and receiving a low mewl, " I won't bother you anymore, sweetie." And with that, she rolled out of her bed, walked and opened the door to see the second floor of the huge house totally dark.

Y/N new that she needed to be quiet because both of her parents had a light sleep, and the last thing she wanted was to make them even more worried by her anxious head. It was nothing too serious, but was bothering her silly mind. Y/N in less then 24 hours had one of the most important soccer games of the year, and it was driving her crazy! It was just a game? Yes. But she was still insecure of her abilities, and even if she played since a little kid, Y/N just wanted to make her family and school proud of her.

Deciding the best idea was getting down stairs and eating something to get her mind somewhere, Y/N made her way to the kitchen using her phone flashlight, and turning on the lights only when got there, still afraid of getting everybody up. She was met by the two big dogs they had, both passed out, Y/N laughed at the scene and turned to the fridge looking for a yummy treat. After a solid five minutes, she decided a diet coke and a leftover sandwich was fine for the moment, but almost dropping every thing to the ground when she closed the fridge door and met her fathers tired eyes.

" Y/N? Why are you up, darlin'? It's almost three a.m. ?" Axl said while helping her put the almost dropped containers on the counter.

"Dad? You almost killed me!" Y/N whispered yelling after her small heart attack. He smiled apologetic and guided her to sit at the table.

She started eating her food, while Axl just observed her with an unreadable face that he couldn't put a finger on what was wrong with Y/N.

" I'm just hungry..." As like she read his mind,but being always the worst liar ever, Axl rolled his eyes, and sat by her side.

"Princess, you're great at a lot of things, but lying isn't one of them." He took one of her hands in his, and looked at her big (e/c) eyes. " You know you can tell me anything."

" I know, Daddy." His face had a frown, but always hearing his kids calling him like that made his heart flutter. " I'm just worried about the game..." With that she put a huge piece of bread in her mouth.

" Why that, darlin'? You're one of the best on the team, if not the best one!" Y/N swallowed the rest of the sandwich and took a sip of her favorite drink, always having a problem with diet coke. " And you still have Misty by your side."

Mystery, more known as Misty, and known by being Slash's daughter and Y/N best friend. The other girls and Jason, Steven's only son, went to same school but only the two girls played soccer.

"Yeah, I know too. But having all the school and all of you guys watching, makes me even more pressured." She looked down at her lap, trying to hide the threatening tears to fall.

God! Axl hated seeing his baby girl like that. Which parent liked to see their kid like that?

Even if his childhood was the most fucked up one, when he and May found out they were having their first baby, Axl was over the moon and promised to her, and of course the unborn baby, he would always look after them. And after 26 years, four kids, more exactly three boys and one little girl, he still committed to his words.

"Princess, there's no need for that. Everyone is going to be there to support and cheer for you" He hugged Y/N and lifted her chin. " I know the feeling of facing a crowd, and how it can be stressful, even with all this years." Axl stroked her cheek, rubbing a tear that escaped her eyes.

" For real?" She just couldn't understand after all this years how he still got nervous about facing his fans.

" Oh, Love, you don't even know the half." He kissed her forehead. " But you know what makes me more confident?" Y/N shook her head. " The five of you, darlin'. I could never feel more confident without my family, and of course the boys..." She laughed and hugged him so strongly that almost crushed him.

" Thanks, Daddy." When she dissolved the hug, Y/N saw him almost out of breath. "Oh my god, I didn't mean to crush you, Dad."

" It's alright, Princess. You always give the best hugs." She flipped her hair and Axl rolled his eyes, Y/N totally got his attitude. " Don't get too bold, young lady..."

" It's your fault, I just got the Axl Rose's genes..." They got up to put the containers in the sink and he light pushed her shoulders with his hands.

" Shut up." He answered laughing, and then taking one of her hands. " You got the good parts of me and your mom, Y/n/N." She nodded her head knowing she would never win this argument.

Letting a small yawn and rubbing her eyes, the small midnight snack already kicking, Axl knew she was already feeling sleepy again, so both of them got upstairs till they make it to her door.

" Thanks again, I don't know how to live without you, I love you so much." Y/N hugged him again and Axl kissed the top of her head.

" I love you much more, sweetheart. If you need anything, just yell and I'll be here, okay?" Y/N answered with a small 'yes,dad', he kissed her cheek one more time and turned to go to his room, but turning again when she called him with a small and tired voice.

" Could... could you stay with me till I fall sleep?" Y/N used the biggest puppy face to convince Axl, knowing fully well he couldn't resist.

" 'Course darlin'" He smiled while entering the bedroom and took notice of the cat exactly on her side of the king size bed.

Before May, his lovely wife and mother of his four children, giving birth to Y/N was him the one the cat followed up and down, even sleeping with him! But as soon the small baby girl got into the house, Dijon didn't give a fuck about his presence. Sometimes even hissing at the singer, he still loved the cat from the bottom of his heart( not that he would admit), but now the cat was Y/N's without a doubt.

Y/N took the sleepy cat and put him besides her pillow. She got under the covers, adjusting to the middle of the bed so her father could sat by her side.

"Can you sing to me, daddy?" Of course he was going to sing to his little girl, always made her more relaxed, even since she was in her mother's belly.

" Which one do you want, Love?" Axl combed her (y/h/c) hair, the same color her mother's hair, making her eyelids even more heavier.

"Patience?" He nodded and started the slow melody, while Y/N started to drift off.

Axl didn't even got to the second verse, she was already passed out. Smiling at the scene, he gave one more sweet kiss to her forehead, adjusted the covers and got up to the door.

" Love you always, princess."

And with that he went to his room thinking how in the hell he made such a sweet creature? Laying besides his absolutely gorgeous wife, and hugging her waist.

" Where you were, honey?" May asked with a tired voice, didn't even turning to talk to him.

" Shh baby..." Axl kissed her hair. " Just taking care of our little girl" She murmured something that he couldn't understand but followed with a very low 'she's alright?' " More than okay, just her silly mind keeping her awake." May agreed with her head, but soon started to drift off too.

Axl nuzzled his head into her neck, starting to doze, thinking about his little perfect family.

F/N: This is the first chapter! Please tell me if y’all liked, every comment is valid.

#guns n roses x reader #axl rose x reader #guns n roses imagine #guns n roses #gnr imagine #axl rose #duff #slash #izzy stradlin #steven adler #guns n roses fanfic #gnr

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a-blue-secret · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER XXI

BACK TO MASTERLIST

Chapter XX | Chapter XXI | Chapter XXII

GENRES: royal au; fantasy au; magic au; friends-to-enemies-to-lovers; king!beomgyu, vizier!taehyun

PAIRING: taegyu

WARNINGS: a few swear words

WORD COUNT: 4.8k+

AN: A lot happens in this chapter, and if you aren't quite sure about something then please, please feel free to ask me! I'll be more than happy to clear up any queries you have :)

SUMMARY: Best friends turned enemies, Kang Taehyun has managed to trick Choi Beomgyu into his service, and to rule for a year and a day, until his youngest brother would be old enough to take the throne. Choi Beomgyu has no intention of being obedient however, and tries to thwart Taehyun’s orders at every turn. With a growing amount of distrust and lies within the court, will Taehyun manage to keep the kingdom of Gojongja from falling apart?

“I’ll send these to the goldsmiths, then,” Taehyun said as they walked back through the palace after their meeting with Yoongi. He rolled up the blueprints more firmly, holding them securely in his hands.

Beomgyu nodded. “I think it’s cool how the blueprints of the chandeliers still exist,” he said. “Also the tiny Latin engravings are a really amazing touch.”

“I know right?” Taehyun agreed. They rounded a corner, and Taehyun slowed down outside his chambers. “We can come up with some of our own words to engrave this time around. I’ll talk to Soobin on how to translate it, if you want.”

“That’d be nice.” Beomgyu stopped in front of Taehyun, rocking on his heels. “I guess this is where we part, right?” He inclined his head grandly and, looking around quickly, gave Taehyun a small peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, love.”

Taehyun’s ears flushed as he watched Beomgyu walk away. “Remember to sleep properly tonight!” he called, and Beomgyu turned around and gave him a thumbs up, walking backwards.

“You too!” he called back, a grin on his face.

Taehyun waved to Beomgyu one last time, before disappearing into his chambers.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The next morning, Taehyun had been on his way to Yeonjun’s room to give Hueningkai back the marble when he was stopped by Chan. As soon as he saw Chan, he felt that something was decidedly off about the guard’s manner. He was still stoic and emotionless, but something felt… different.

“His Greatness has requested your presence in his chambers,” the guard said, in the typical, stony guard tone.

Taehyun nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said. “Alright. Come on, let’s go.”

The two of them walked through the hallways, and the strange aura surrounding Chan only grew. Taehyun glanced back at the guard, and he stiffened. Panic was clear on Chan’s face. That was what had felt strange. The guard, normally as emotional as a brick wall in public, was looking increasingly worried as they drew closer to Beomgyu’s chambers. Taehyun continued to walk through the halls, fear settling in his stomach.

They reached Beomgyu’s door, and Taehyun hesitantly knocked on it. He waited – half patient and half anxious – for Beomgyu to open the door. There was a muffled thump against the door, almost as if someone had put their full body weight against it. Taehyun's eyes widened, alarmed, and he hurriedly brought out his spare key for Beomgyu’s room, hastily unlocking the door.

“I– Beomgyu!”

He barely managed to catch Beomgyu as he fell limply through the doorway, almost face-planting onto the floor. It appeared that he’d been the one who’d fallen against the door, presumably after attempting to open it.

He was white as the marble which they’d just ordered for their new ballroom. His hands were shaking: not just trembling slightly, but full-on shaking without any sign of stopping. The dark circles around his eyes had gotten impossibly darker, with a purple tint also appearing around the edges of his lips.

Beomgyu struggled open his eyes, brown irises glinting painfully. “Tae– Taehyun?” he managed to croak, before passing out.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The Royal Physician, despite working such a difficult job always surrounded by sick and nearly dying people, was a kind, smiley man whose presence immediately put Taehyun at ease.

Taehyun watched, fiddling with his fingers, as Sir Kim calmly and efficiently went through all the basic check ups on Beomgyu.

Beomgyu, after passing out cold in Taehyun’s arms, had been moved back into his room. Taehyun carried him and tucked him into his bed, while Chan hurried to fetch the Royal Physician. Occasionally, Beomgyu would stir weakly, see Taehyun sitting by his bed, struggling to give a smile to his vizier, before passing out again.

When the Physician had arrived, he entered with a calm, almost motherly presence, and Taehyun felt himself relax in relief.

“Alright, I’ll waste no time. Sir Taehyun, may I ask you a favour?”

Taehyun stood up, nodding his head.

“I’ll take his temperature, his pulse, and all those things, but I’ll need you to tell me his health history for me to figure out what it could be. Could you do that?”

Taehyun nodded fervently. Sir Kim smiled. “Good.” He turned to Beomgyu, reaching for his wrist. He didn’t flinch at how unnaturally cold the King’s wrist was, only frowning slightly.

“Taehyun, what was his condition like yesterday?”

Taehyun coughed, trying to get the words out smoothly. “He was quite pale. Not as pale as right now, but paler than he normally is. He just looked tired, really. Dark circles, tired walk.”

“No cough?”

“No cough,” Taehyun confirmed. “But he had dry eyes. He kept on rubbing them. And-” his voice faltered as the Physician leaned closer to Beomgyu. “Uh, Sir Kim, what are you...?”

“Just call me Seokjin,” the Physician said, placing his ear over Beomgyu’s mouth. “I’m just checking his breathing.” He pulled away, crouching down next to Beomgyu’s ear, clicking his fingers loudly. Beomgyu flinched slightly, even while unconscious. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out an incandescent light bulb which was still glowing. Taehyun widened his eyes: only a few people had light bulbs, with them only just beginning to be installed into the palace. Carefully, Seokjin opened one of Beomgyu’s eyes, moving the lightbulb closer towards him. Nodding to himself, he put away the bulb and addressed Taehyun.

“His breathing is stable. His reactions are good, if a little slow, but that can be chalked up to him being unconscious. His pupils are dilating as they normally would, which is good. But his pulse…” Seokjin blinked calmly, staring at Taehyun. “His pulse became more erratic the longer I stayed with him. When I’d first checked, it was almost normal, but soon picked up speed. Does Beomgyu have any fears that you know of?”

Taehyun looked around the room, seeing if there could be any potential triggers. “None of them are here,” he said finally. “I don’t know.”

Seokjin frowned. “May I try something?” He moved around to the other side of the bed, where Taehyun was standing, and sat the vizier down. “Stay close to Beomgyu for a moment,” he said. After a pause, he added, “And hold his hand.”

The Physician stepped away, as Taehyun confusedly obeyed.

“You know how to check for pulse, right?” Seokjin asked. “Place two fingers on the inside of his wrist until you feel a faint pulsing.” Once Taehyun had done that, he spoke again. “Now, I need you to measure his pulse for me. Every time you feel it, tap your foot against the floor. Tell me if you are able to correctly predict when the next pulse will be.”

Taehyun nodded, slightly confused by the Physician’s request, but carrying it out anyway.

In the beginning, it was difficult to tap his foot at exactly the same time as Beomgyu’s pulse. But eventually, it evened out, and Taehyun could do it easily.

“I can predict the next pulse now,” he said. “What does that mean?”

Seokjin frowned solemnly. He pulled up a chair to sit by Taehyun, and spoke very gently and seriously. “I believe that this is not an ordinary sickness. The dark rim around his lips is not from a stain that he received after eating, or some strange form of lipstick. Dark purple marks like that often symbolise something else, along with unnaturally pale skin. Coupled with the fact that his pulse only becomes regular when you are near…” he sighed. “This is very complex, I’m afraid. I have a few suspicions, but I’ll need to carry out a few more tests. Is that alright?”

“Of course. Will you need to be alone?”

“Yes, I will. If that’s alright.”

“That’s fine.” Taehyun looked at Beomgyu worriedly, gently squeezing the unconscious King’s hand. He stood up, bowing to Seokjin. “Thank you so much.”

Seokjin smiled. “It’s no problem at all. Let me just call my assistant, and I’ll get right on it.” He stood up with Taehyun, walking him to the door and opening it. Standing right outside was someone around Taehyun’s height, with a bright aura and smiley eyes.

“Hoseok, I’ll need your help with this,” Seokjin said, and Hoseok nodded. He bowed to Taehyun, before entering the room. “I’ll send a message to you once I can properly diagnose him,” Seokjin promised, and Taehyun nodded, giving a weak smile. Hoseok gave Taehyun a reassuring smile and small wave, before closing the door, leaving Taehyun standing in the middle of the hallway. Chan had just finished his duty, and there were a few moments where there was emptiness between his and Jisung’s shift, who was next to guard Beomgyu’s door. This meant that, for the moment, the hallway was empty. Taehyun stared blankly at the door, feeling so frustratingly useless. He couldn’t do anything to help Beomgyu, and it frustrated him. Hesitantly, he began to walk away, wringing his hands nervously. He didn’t know what to do, and it stressed him so much.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Taehyun had decided not to tell Yeonjun and Hueningkai. What was there to tell them, anyway? ‘Beomgyu has passed out and we don’t know what it is’? There was no point. To also prevent himself from blurting out everything to the spies, Taehyun kept his distance from them, not even setting foot within the corridor that they were staying in. If he saw Yeonjun in the hallway, he’d give him a tight nod, before walking away stiffly.

He couldn’t keep it up forever, though. Yeonjun eventually confronted him about his strange behaviour.

“Taehyun,” he called, following Taehyun into the library. “Hey, Taehyun. Why are you avoiding me?”

Taehyun stared at him blankly, before ducking down again to search the shelves. Yeonjun followed closely behind him.

“Taehyun. Hey, Taehyun, look at me. Why has our friendship taken five steps back? Are we back at the beginning? When I was just a suspicious foreign Lord coming to see you and Beomgyu?”

At Beomgyu’s name, Taehyun gave a choked cough, ducking his head even further. Yeonjun crouched down beside Taehyun and grabbed the vizier’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You don’t have to keep anything from us. You know that, right? We’ll help and support you no matter what. I promise.”

Taehyun’s eyes were red and dry from how much he’d wanted to cry out of stress but had been constantly stopping himself from doing so. “I’m fine,” he said. “Just stressed. I’m not trying to ignore you, don’t worry.”

Yeonjun nodded, reassured. “That’s good. Oh, by the way, where’s Beomgyu? I don’t see him hanging over your shoulder.”

“He– he’s not feeling well,” Taehyun gulped. Yeonjun nodded understandingly.

“Oh dear. Well, tell him I hope he gets better soon.” Yeonjun stood up, offering Taehyun his hand. “You’re okay, right?” he checked.

“I’m fine,” Taehyun said, feeling a little calmer. He remembered something, and reached into his pocket. “Oh– here. I’ve been carrying it around for a few days now, but here.” He placed Hueningkai’s marble in Yeonjun’s hand.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll give this to Hueningkai to destroy, then.” He smiled at Taehyun. “Don’t be too stressed, okay? Remember, there are people you can talk to. Me, a master diplomat and secret room-finder, Hueningkai, a master poison detective, and Beomgyu, a master of evading his duties. We’re all here for you.”

Taehyun smiled weakly at Yeonjun’s attempt at a joke. “Thank you.”

Yeonjun grinned, before walking away. As he was leaving, a small messenger boy came running up to Taehyun.

“Sir Taehyun! Sir Kim has requested your presence in His Greatness’ chambers.”

Taehyun widened his eyes, and ran out of the library.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Seokjin and Hoseok were packing up their equipment when Taehyun burst in. Seokjin looked up at the vizier, who was out of breath from sprinting through the hallways with his eyes wide and anxious.

“Hoseok, you can go talk to Taehyun. I’ll finish tidying this.”

The assistant Physician walked towards Taehyun, who was staring anxiously at Beomgyu, who was still unconscious on the bed.

“How is he?” Taehyun asked.

“We’ve run various tests over the past couple of days, and the results should be back soon,” Hoseok said. “In the meantime, it’ll be perfectly fine for you to stay with him. His vitals, barring his pulse, are all stable, and we’re certain that what he has is not contagious. We believe that he’ll be alright.”

“As in, he’ll get better, or he won’t die?”

Hoseok hesitated. “As in, he most likely will not die in two weeks’ time.”

Even with how unstable the statement was, Taehyun felt himself relax. Any sort of confirmation that Beomgyu wouldn’t die, no matter how unsure the confirmation was, made him feel a little more reassured. He gave a small smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Does that mean I’m allowed to stay with him?”

“By all means, you’re welcome to stay with him,” Seokjin said, walking up to them. “In fact, we’d encourage it. He seems to become better in your presence.”

Taehyun smiled at the two physicians. “Thank you so much, both of you.”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Seokjin sighed tiredly. “Two days’ worth of work, sitting beside a sick patient, and yet we have nothing to show for it. The results should be back soon, so we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. In the meantime, I’d encourage you to stay by His Greatness. Look, he’s even beginning to stir, and you’ve only just stepped into the room.”

Indeed, Beomgyu was beginning to gain consciousness. Though he had been incredibly still just moments before, his eyes were now struggling open, blinking in the light of the early afternoon.

Seokjin bowed. “Hoseok and I will be going now.”

Taehyun bowed as the two physicians left, closing the door. He hesitantly walked over to Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu?” he said softly. “How are you?”

Beomgyu blinked hard, squinting. “Taehyun?” he said croakily. Taehyun pulled up a chair beside the bed, holding Beomgyu’s hand as he opened his eyes fully. He couldn’t help the ironic smile that appeared on his face.

“Beomgyu, love, you look like shit.” He held Beomgyu’s hand gently, lifting it to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. “You have no idea how worried I was,” he said softly. “Sir Kim – the Physician – kicked me out of the room for two whole days, and I was literally going mad with worry. And when I was called back, I feared the worst, but it’s good to see that you’re alive and well– but not exactly well because you look like shit.”

Beomgyu smiled at Taehyun, recognising the similar words he had once said to Taehyun. “I see you’re not rambling as much as I did,” he said hoarsely. “Should I be offended?”

Taehyun only smiled, tears blurring his vision. He held Beomgyu's hand close, pressing it against his lips. “Did I mention you look like shit? Because you do.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Beomgyu said. He reached out with his other hand to wipe away Taehyun’s tears. “Why are you crying? Don’t cry. As you can see, I’m alive, and looking like shit.”

It was a weak joke, but Taehyun was smiling. “You idiot,” he said.

“I’m a bedridden idiot,” Beomgyu said. “So you have to be nice to me.”

“Alright,” Taehyun said, smiling tearily. “I’ll be nice to you.”

He held Beomgyu’s hand tightly in his own, before promptly breaking down into tears.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Beomgyu handed Taehyun tissues from his bedside table, sighing affectionately. He’d propped himself up on his cushions so he could sit up properly, his hand still being held by Taehyun.

Taehyun glared at him, eyes wet, as he rubbed at his nose with the tissue. “Don’t say anything stupid.”

“Hey, I wasn’t going to,” Beomgyu said, smiling. “But you know, it’s kinda weird how I’m the one who’s in bed with a throbbing headache and I can barely move my legs, but it’s you who started crying. But hey, I’m not gonna say anything stupid.”

Taehyun gave a watery scoff, swatting at Beomgyu’s arm. He balled up the tissues and threw them into the bin, coming back to sit at the chair by Beomgyu’s bed. Beomgyu stared at his red eyes, wiping away the tears still left in his cheeks.

“Wow, I never pinned you as an emotional lover,” he said amusedly.

“Shut up,” Taehyun sighed, an affectionate smile on his face. “It’s what happens when I don’t get enough sleep.”

“Speaking of sleep, it feels like I haven’t gotten any in about a hundred years,” Beomgyu said, letting out an exaggerated yawn. “My body feels so tired that I want to lay down forever. When will I be able to get up again?”

Taehyun looked at him oddly. “Those two statements contradict each other so much that it’s more than just a little weird. But you won’t be able to get up for at least a few more days. You’re not actually healed yet. You just managed to wake up.”

“That’s a shame,” Beomgyu sighed. “But it explains why I still feel like shit.”

Taehyun’s face grew more serious. “Where does it hurt? Are you actually hurt? Do you remember anything? When did this start?”

“Woah, woah, slow down, Mother,” Beomgyu joked. “Everything hurts, really. I just feel so… tired. Like, my actual bones are aching.”

“That’s not good,” Taehyun said worriedly.

“Nothing about this is good, love,” Beomgyu sighed, patting Taehyun’s hand. “But as long as you’re with me, I feel fine. Stay with me, okay?”

Taehyun tightened his grip on Beomgyu’s hand. “I will. I promise.”

Beomgyu smiled, sinking back into the pillows. He blinked slowly, as if struggling to keep his eyes open.

“You can rest if you want,” Taehyun said, noticing how sleepy Beomgyu looked. He began to rise from his chair. “It’s almost evening, anyway. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Beomgyu suddenly said, refusing to let go of Taehyun’s hand. “Can you… can you stay with me? I know it sounds silly, but can you stay with me until I fall asleep? Just so I know that you still love me.”

Taehyun blinked, face softening into a loving smile. Beomgyu’s tone was completely sincere. While it hurt him to think that he’d hurt Beomgyu so much that he needed confirmation that the vizier would stay, it just made him all the more determined to love Beomgyu as best as he could. He sat back down in the chair, holding Beomgyu’s hand with both of his own.

“Of course.”

Beomgyu’s face melted into a relieved smile. “Sing me a song?”

“Oh my–'' Taehyun had to turn his head away so Beomgyu couldn’t see the endeared look on his face. The big doe eyes, the soft pout, the shy, gentle blush on his cheeks… yep, Taehyun was definitely in love with Beomgyu. He schooled his facial expression back into somewhat of a normal look, turning back to Beomgyu. “Honestly, why are you so cute? Yes, yes of course.”

He cleared his throat, thinking for a moment for what to sing. He decided on a traditional Gojongja lullaby, the words flowing out of his mouth.

Taehyun’s soothing, melodic voice filled the room, the melody sweet and gentle. Halfway through the song, Beomgyu’s eyelids began to droop, his head nodding a little. By the time Taehyun had just started the second lullaby, Beomgyu was already struggling to stay awake. In a few seconds, he was fast asleep. Taehyun finished the phrase he’d been singing, before gently releasing Beomgyu’s hands, tucking him gently into bed.

He got up and looked down at Beomgyu’s sleeping form, smiling fondly. He looked so serene and beautiful. Gently, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss onto Beomgyu’s forehead.

“Get well soon, love,” he whispered, straightening. He gave one more smile, before leaving the room, closing the door with a small click.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

Taehyun whistled as he walked through the hallways. It was the next morning, and he was on his way to visit Beomgyu. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks.

His duties. The new council was being formed that day. He needed to give them a run-down on how it all worked.

He thought for a moment, before shaking his head. He could get Soobin or someone to do that. He’d ask Heeseung to inform Soobin, or he could even do it himself later. Taehyun gave a bright smile, resuming his journey towards Beomgyu’s room. Right now, Beomgyu was priority. He’d take care of Beomgyu first, then see to the council. A happy King made a happy Kingdom, right?

He reached the door, and nodded at Seojung, who was on duty. The guard nodded back, knocking and opening the door for him. Taehyun stepped inside, softly calling out for Beomgyu.

“Beomgyu, love? How are you today?”

A pillow was suddenly thrown in his direction with huge force, and Taehyun ducked. The pillow ended up colliding with the metal coat stand, and promptly burst upon impact. Taehyun stared as the dust and feathers floated down, along with the torn pillow case. He stared at Beomgyu, frowning, before bending down to pick up some of the feathers across the carpet.

“That’s not a nice way to greet me, you know. Do you know how much that pillow costs?”

He received no comment in return. No playfully exasperated sigh at Taehyun’s scolding, no delighted laugh at his own mischief, nothing at all. Taehyun frowned, straightening, setting the feathers on a chest of drawers. He looked up at Beomgyu again, opening his mouth to say something.

He paused, taking another step forward. “Beomgyu?” He spoke more cautiously now. “Love, are you okay?”

In response, Beomgyu threw another pillow at him, which Taehyun managed to catch.

Something was definitely wrong with Beomgyu, now. He was sure of it. Before, Taehyun had thought that the glare on his face was merely a playful one, but the longer he stared, the more he thought otherwise.

Beomgyu’s gaze was cold and unfeeling, and sent chills down Taehyun’s spine. This wasn’t like the red-hot anger he’d seen on Beomgyu before, nor the playful, light mischief that normally lit up his face. No– this was harsher: a stony, unemotional glare that Taehyun had never seen on Beomgyu’s face before, and his eyes widened.

He was sitting upright in bed, eyes cool and hard. He narrowed his eyes at Taehyun, fingers curling into fists around the silk sheets. There was a loud ripping sound: Beomgyu had held onto the sheets so tight that there were now large rips inside them.

A growl sounded– deep and rumbling and almost sinister, and Taehyun almost took a step back in fear. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t Beomgyu.

Beomgyu’s hand reached out to his bedside table, fingers grasping the oil lamp. His gaze was still fixed on Taehyun. His knuckles were white; his skin was white; his eyes were pale and icy.

Taehyun didn’t know what to do. He took a step forward.

Beomgyu growled again, narrowing his eyes. Taehyun shut his eyes, not wanting to stare at him anymore. This wasn’t Beomgyu. His gaze, devoid of its usual warmth and bright emotion, wasn’t Beomgyu’s at all. And he hated it. It physically hurt him to see Beomgyu so unlike himself.

Something came whistling in his direction, and Taehyun immediately smacked it into the wall before it could hit his face, opening his eyes. The oil lamp lay cracked and broken on the floor, the glass shattered and fragmented, as oil leaked pitifully from the lamp, an uncanny shade of dark red spreading across the expensive carpet. Taehyun looked up at Beomgyu, breathing in sharply at the ferocious look he was met with.

Neither of them moved. Beomgyu, seemingly growing frustrated with this, picked up yet another cushion and threw it. His aim had been completely off: the pillow tumbled past Taehyun, far away from where he was standing. But still, that was enough for Taehyun. Beomgyu wasn’t acting like himself, and he needed to find out why.

Taehyun strode up towards the bed, ignoring how Beomgyu growled and snarled in an almost animalistic manner. He grabbed ahold of both of the King’s wrists to prevent him from lashing out.

“Beomgyu, listen to me,” he said in a low voice. “Beomgyu, stop this! Listen to me!”

Even though he was weak and bedridden, Beomgyu continued to thrash around, trying to escape Taehyun’s grip. Struggling, Taehyun held on tighter, preventing Beomgyu from hitting him.

“Stay– fucking– still– Beomgyu!”

Out of options, Taehyun scrambled onto the bed (still holding Beomgyu’s wrists) and sat down on Beomgyu’s legs, squeezing them together with his thighs. He was practically straddling Beomgyu, with the other still struggling underneath him.

And because this wasn’t his Beomgyu – his gentle, warm Beomgyu – Taehyun felt no remorse for what he was about to do.

“Choi fucking Beomgyu!” Taehyun roared, strangling Beomgyu’s wrists in an iron grip. “I command you to stop at once!”

Immediately, Beomgyu went limp in his grasp, eyes glazed over from the force of the command. Taehyun was breathing heavily from the effort it had taken to restrain Beomgyu. Slowly, cautiously, he clambered off the bed, falling into the chair beside the bed. He watched Beomgyu carefully, but he wasn’t doing anything. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, blinked drowsily. His head kept bobbing around. Beomgyu turned his gaze to Taehyun, curling his lips into a sleepy snarl, which still managed to make Taehyun flinch. Beomgyu tried to lift his hands, but it was obvious the command was preventing him from doing so. His eyes closed, then heavily forced themselves open again, before he shut them. His head dropped, and he was asleep again.

Taehyun watched him for a moment, before quickly retreating from the room. He’d decided it would probably be best to return tomorrow.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

The next day, Taehyun peered into Beomgyu’s room in a much more cautious manner, slowly poking his head in. Beomgyu was staring at him curiously, head tilted. Much to his relief, Beomgyu looked much more normal now, his eyes now alight with their usual warmth. But he wasn’t going to be rushing in just yet. Whatever the hell had happened yesterday: he did not want a repeat of that.

“What, have you turned into a snail or something? Honestly, you’re moving so slowly. Come in. I don’t bite, you know.”

Taehyun made a disbelieving noise, still hesitating to come into the room. “I don’t believe you, after what happened yesterday.”

Beomgyu frowned in a confused manner. “What do you mean? I don’t remember what happened yesterday. I’m pretty sure I was asleep the whole time. I told you before: every moment I spend with you is special, so I’m pretty sure I would have remembered if you came.”

Taehyun hesitated. Then he opened the door wider, stepping inside and closing the door. “I remember you saying that,” he said. He sat down in the chair beside the bed, automatically holding onto Beomgyu’s hand. “Do you really not remember anything from yesterday?”

Beomgyu shook his head. “I told you, I’m pretty sure I was asleep the whole day.” He pointed to his eyes excitedly. “See? I bet the darkness around them has gone down!”

The dark rims around Beomgyu’s eyes had not, in fact, gone down at all, but there was no way Taehyun was dampening Beomgyu’s excitement. He gave a weak smile, and leaned upwards to press kisses just under Beomgyu’s eyes. “Indeed, they have,” he said softly. He reached out with a finger to trace the faint purpleness of Beomgyu’s lips. “But it hasn’t gone down from around your mouth.”

Beomgyu’s lips formed a sad pout. “Aw, that’s a shame,” he sighed. But then his eyes lit up again. “Wait, if you give them a kiss, do you think it would go away?”

Taehyun laughed at how adorable Beomgyu looked, in complete contrast to the cold, emotionless Beomgyu which had been in his place just yesterday. It was relieving to see him back to being his normal self. “Come here, then.”

He pressed a soft, gentle kiss onto Beomgyu’s lips, smiling. This Beomgyu felt like his Beomgyu. So then what had happened yesterday? Why had his mood changed so drastically?

Taehyun listened attentively as Beomgyu rambled, but a small part of his brain had disconnected from the conversation. He had no idea why yesterday’s Beomgyu had been like that, and in truth it scared him. Though he’d been able to put aside his personal feelings last time to subdue Beomgyu, he didn’t know how he’d be able to cope if it kept happening. And if it got worse… he didn’t know if he’d be able to forgive himself if he accidentally hurt Beomgyu.

He had a sinking feeling that this bipolar personality of Beomgyu’s would carry on for a while, and he didn’t know how he’d be able to deal with it.

Unfortunately, Taehyun was completely right. The issue was an ongoing one, and wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. In fact, it was soon going to get worse.

taglist: @my-moarmy-heart @arohabangtan @a-fragmented-world

#court of lies #txt #txt taegyu #taegyu #txt taehyun #taehyun #txt beomgyu #beomgyu #txt fanfic #txt imagine #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt angst #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together

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zosonils · 4 years

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surely post some autistic ferb things for us all,,,,,,

hell yeah anon!! here’s an absolute hell dump of Ferb Autism Indulgence Things because i have really been wanting to get my grubby little autistic hands all over him lately

his special interests are engineering and tetris [which is the game he’s internationally ranked in!]

he stims vocally by humming or repeating other vocalisations, but rarely with actual words

if he’s too nervous to vocalise/just not in the mood he goes for small hand movements to stim like clicking pens or tapping his fingers

he does flappy hands/arms when he has a lot of excitement to release! otherwise he prefers to stick to smaller/more subtle motions for a variety of reasons

he only repeats actual words as echolalia, almost always off of either phineas or perry! that thing they do where perry chatters and the boys mimic it and they all just loop off each other for a while is absolutely an echolalia loop for all of them [yes even the platypus]

a very epic headcanon i have is that owca agents are typically labelled as having therapy animal training to give them some more wiggle room with showing intelligence, so perry is officially a therapy platypus for the flynn-fletcher kids, especially the boys. ferb does the aforementioned echolalia chatter thing with perry and also just generally finds him extremely comforting to hold. of course perry’s figured out all of ferb and his siblings’ needs by observation and makes sure to subtly be as comforting as possible for his kids, especially if they’re having a meltdown and need to hold someone who won’t try to talk to them

ferb genuinely dislikes communicating verbally, due to a combination of general social anxiety, struggling to translate his thoughts into words, and finding it physically uncomfortable to talk. it’s not serious enough to prevent him from cracking a joke or vocalising his thoughts every once in a while, but he prefers to be nonverbal as much as possible and communicate through gestures and body language

throughout the series he only ever speaks on his own terms and as much as he’s comfortable with, so it comes out without issue, but if he’s forced to talk when he doesn’t want to or while he’s under stress he struggles to string sentences together and stutters really badly. fortunately he’s got nice friends and a great family so this issue rarely presents itself, although it comes up sometimes during the school year in battles with pissy neurotypical teachers over oral presentations

over time he starts to work past the discomfort [genuinely, it’s on his own terms as opposed to masking to get allistics off his back] so that by the time he’s an adult he can hold an entirely verbal conversation for a decent while before it drains him, but he still tends to avoid speaking if he can

phineas instinctively understands ferb’s silent emotional cues, a lot better than he understands most people’s [but that’s a whole other infodump lmao], and unless ferb actively indicates that he wants to talk for himself phineas usually speaks for both of them and translates any of ferb’s less neurotypically obvious signals

phineas and ferb made The Ultimate Fidget Cube as one of their daily projects [they were being mass produced for an hour or two and then something or other happened, there was a mobile phone and an avalanche of instant noodles, long story short only the handful they made for themselves and their friends are left now] and neither of them go anywhere without it

ferb doesn’t have any specific comfort/security objects but he feels significantly more at ease if he’s got some kind of tool in his hand or within reach [or, failing an actual building-stuff tool, anything he can hold and Do Something with, like a pen or his fidget cube or a video game controller], and is a lot more stimmy with his hands and generally anxious if he isn’t holding something

perry performs the task of comfort item better than any inanimate objects but platypi aren’t allowed to come to school even if they’re very polite :(

believe me the brothers have tested this numerous times

school is stressful for ferb because it fires up his sensory overload and is usually where he’s forced to do some neurotypical shit that upsets him, but his friends always have his back and linda and lawrence are definitely super involved in making sure their kids’ needs are met and respected by their teachers, so he manages pretty well unless something really bad happens to set him off

he’s susceptible to sensory overload, mostly with bright lights, sudden noises, and being touched. the light and sound involved in many of his and phineas’ projects is alright because he usually designed them and knows exactly when they’ll come on and what it’ll be like, but if he doesn’t have that prediction available he freaks out easily. being touched [especially without warning] is the absolute fucking worst and he almost invariably flips out if someone unfamiliar tries to touch him or he’s hit with an unexpected sensation he doesn’t like

he only rarely has meltdowns because he’s good at self-regulating when he needs to and his friends and family know what does and doesn’t fly with him, but when he does they’re often triggered by either sensory overload or being forced to talk

when ferb starts entering meltdown territory his verbal skills are the first thing to shut off, and if it gets worse he usually stops communicating altogether and enters a really bad dissociative state that he won’t come out of until he feels safe again and can be carefully brought back to his senses

standard procedure for ferb meltdowns is to get him a weighted blanket and some tea and a perry if you can find the slippery little bugger, let him snap back to reality at his own pace, and once he can communicate his needs again pay extra close attention to them until he calms down enough that he can properly self-regulate again

his favourite sensations are weight/pressure, the funky bumpy shit perry’s tail has going on, and anything soft!

most of his clothes [including his usual outfit in the show] are tight-fitting but made out of soft fabric for maximum comfy

the blanket on his bed is a weighted one, but if he’s too far from his room or it’s too hot to be comfortable under a blanket sometimes he’ll just find the tightest spot he can wedge himself into without getting hurt or stuck and squish himself in there to calm down a bit

his favourite food texture is crunchy stuff, and he samefoods with particular cereals and sandwich combos that rotate every few months when he finally gets tired of the exact same breakfast and lunch every day and wants slightly different identical meals

while he’s fine with variation from day to day, he’s very firmly attached to the summer/weekend formula of wake up > cereal > big idea > where’s perry > [building montage] > mom holy fuck > sandwich > [having fun montage] > our fuckoff massive contraption has vanished somehow > oh there you are perry > snacks > nondescript vibing > dinner > bed time, and if this schedule gets significantly thrown off it really bothers him

ferb shows his emotions more subtly than neurotypicals, which can make him seem hard to read, but his external emotional range is still extremely distinct - he just expresses it in atypical ways sometimes!

one of his most notable atypical emotional cues is that thing he does when he’s startled and he pulls his hands up - he does this in we call it maze when candace falls over on her skates in the beginning, split personality when busting candace scares him, lost in danville when he’s worried another capsule might fall on him or phineas, and the phineas and ferb effect during how do i do it when milo’s exercise bike crashes, just to name a few instances! this boy has Unique Emotional Cues and i love him for it so much

he’s better at reading emotions than phineas [as low as that bar is], but sometimes misses more subtle cues and doesn’t quite trust his ability to read anyone aside from phineas, candace, and his closest friends

he’s been aware that he’s neurodivergent ever since he was diagnosed as a little kid [he was first diagnosed with autism when he was extremely baby, not even three years old, and had it continually reconfirmed as he got older] and he’s been entirely happy with being autistic for as long as he’s known what that even means, with this only being reinforced as he found siblings and made friends with other autistic kids :)

good lord this is such an infodump i’m sorry i just love my son so very much and have been feeling particularly self indulgent today ;<;

#i've been on and off typing at this ask for like six hours help hsjnkdfnkj /lh #i love ferb so fucking much you guys have no idea #[diverges his neuro]#sonic forces me to answer questions #just fucking whatever #THIS post goes RIGHT in the infodump tag #long post #good lord i'm sorry lmao [except i'm not because talking about my comfort characters is awesome]#anon

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