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#he just doesn't seem to understand that me being like that means i'm upset all the time
huskersbooze · 2 months
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Bambi
Alastor x Reader
Summary : Alastor returns from his outing one day, finding a guest lying on the floor, unconscious, in front of the Hazbin Hotel. Untrue to Alastor fashion, scaring most of the staff members, he decides to keep the fascinating creature in his broadcasting studio, and when she wakes up, she's forgotten everything, even her name. And when Alastor starts calling her nicknames in the mean time, he accidentally gives her one that she ends up growing attached to..
Warnings : N/A
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader (Gn!Reader here, M!Reader here)
Additional tags : Fluff(?), mentions of amnesia, Alastor actually being nice?!
Word count : 1.06k
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“Wonderful, just wonderful! You’re awake!”
A staticky voice drew you out of your thoughts. Surprised, you snapped your neck towards the sound, and a rather tall and slim figure was right at your face.
“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!”
You flinch as the figure leans closer, causing them to back away slightly.
“Who.. who are you?”
“Pleasure to meet you, dear, just a pleasure! I'm Alastor, the Radio Demon. And who might you be?"
"I..” You reply. “I don't know." 
He seems taken aback by your response slightly, but his smile doesn't falter. Instead he cocks his head to the side and blinks at you.
"What's your name?"
You stay quiet for a while until you give an uncertain head tilt back to him.
"I don't know.."
The grin still very much glued to his face, he leaned a bit closer to you, voice dropping to a more hushed tone.
"Darling, you don't remember your name, or you don't know your name?"
"I.. I don't remember." You fight the urge to start fidgeting with your hands, looking down to the ground as your memories become a hazy blur.
"You don't remember? Your name? Anything?"
"No.."
He doesn't seem to let his bright smile falter at that, although his expression shifts slightly towards curiosity.
"Quite the fascinating creature you are." He blinks a couple of times before he shifts to lean against what seemed to be a broadcasting panel, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Intriguing, really. Do you know what happened to your memory?"
"No.. not really."
"Well, that's unfortunate." The Radio Demon lets out a chuckle, static still laced in his laugh. "It seems you're in a bit of a dilemma, aren't you, Bambi?"
"Bambi.. I like it." You reply.
"Pardon me?" He raises his eyebrow at you, surprised at your statement.
"Bambi. I like the sound of that."
He laughs, a smile sounding from him again. There was something so unsettling yet alluring about him.
"That is rather fitting, I suppose. Bambi.. it's not a bad name." He thinks for a few seconds, stroking his chin as he considers. "And I suppose I'll need something to refer to you if you're staying. It fits you.."
"Staying?"
"Where do you think you are right now, darling? You certainly didn't expect me to leave you out there with your memories wiped with nowhere to go?"
"I.."
"Surely you hoped to stay for accommodation and basic necessities?" The Radio Demon asks, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "You've lost your memory after all, have you not?"
"Yes.." You hesitantly replied. Sure, you've lost your memory, but you weren't stupid enough to follow a random Radio Demon around without knowing him.
"I don't bite, Bambi. I can guarantee everyone at the hotel will treat you with the respect you deserve. And if they don't, all you need to do is let me know and I'll handle them for you."
"Hotel?"
"My, my, you really are a clueless little deer." Alastor uses a cane-typed staff to ruffle your hair. “So fragile and just the cutest little thing.”
“Thank.. you?”
Alastor tilts his head to the side curiously.
"It seems as if my teasing isn't upsetting you. How strange." He merely comments. “Oh, to understand your lost little mind.”
You carefully scan the room. It seemed to be a broadcasting studio, the room simply in red. Totally wasn’t sinister at all.
“So, what do you say, Bambi? We wouldn't mind providing you with all the necessities you need for now.”
“Necessities?”
Alastor chuckles again.
"Like, a bed, for example! Or, oh, I'm sure you'd want new clothes as well, right? And... if that's not enough, we do serve breakfast the next day. If you want food, that is..."
“Jambalaya..” You mutter, mostly to yourself as you’re lightly lost in thought.
Alastor’s grin widens a little, his ears perking slightly at the sudden mention of his favourite food.
"I can't say that I was expecting that, but... yes, we actually do have jambalaya on the menu for lunch. How'd you know that?"
“Oh, sorry.. I was just talking to myself. It’s my favourite food.” You stifle a blush as you let out an embarrassed smile.
“Ah, so you do remember some things, Bambi.” He raises his voice in curiosity, walking towards a trapdoor in the floor. “Come along, dear, let’s bring you to Charlie.”
“Charlie?”
“The owner of the hotel, and also the Princess of Hell.”
“We’re in hell?”
Alastor stops in his tracks as the two of you reach the hallways, finally out of Alastor’s broadcasting tower.
“After our whole conversation, you just noticed?”
“I.. I suppose so.”
“Oh, dear, you really are just one mysterious creature, aren't you? To think you just appeared here, with no memories of yourself, of the world, and even what you're doing here in Hell. You are truly fascinating..”
Alastor smirks, speaking in a lower voice. “Charlie will be delighted to have you here.”
After introductions and such, Charlie settles you into the room next to Alastor’s, opposite of Angel Dust, and introduces you to all the staff.
“So.. who are ya’ exactly?” The white spider raises a hand, slouching on the couch with a grey cat beside him. 
“This is our new guest!” Charlie introduces. “Alastor found her unconscious and offered to let her stay.”
“That doesn’t really answer the question, princess.” The grey cat speaks up, seemingly bored from the unoriginality of these introductions.
“Well, Husker, our little friend here has lost her memories.” Alastor speaks up from beside you, ruffling your hair with his staff-cane-thing once more. You still couldn’t make out what it was really supposed to be.
“Lost her memories?” Vaggie is the one to speak up this time. 
“Indeed. It seems our dear friend doesn't even remember her own name, let alone anything else.”
“Then what a’ we s’posed to refer to her as?” Angel questions.
“You could call me Bambi..” You mutter softly, gaze glued to your own feet.
“Works for me.” Husk shrugs.
“Sure.” Angel replies.
Vaggie and Niffty nods.
You feel the static beside you grow a bit louder, and as you shift your gaze, you see Alastor keeping his composure with his backs behind his back, his eyes on you as he gives you a soft, and genuine smile.
“You’re going to love it here, Bambi.” He says.
———/ End. /———
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nat20composure · 4 months
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Astarion and Agency- The Necessity of Discomfort to Self Discovery and the Infantilization of Victims
Minor Astarion discourse ahead that mentions the treatment of SA victims post-abuse:
I want to open this post up just with like. The statement that I don't think there is a correct way to enjoy media and that I LOVE to see individual head cannons and takes on characters in media. I think that is also, to a degree, an integral part of video games because of how unique the experience of playing a game will be to every person who plays it. But it has been making me feel so incredibly sad looking through fan content, art, or discourse for BG3 specifically because of how many people have taken the route of infantilizing Astarion.
I understand the instinct to shield or protect an individual that you love and care for. I also understand that because of the nature of the things that Astarion goes through, a lot of people also feel very deep emotional stakes in him. I'm one of the many fans of the character who is a victim of SA and CSA, I really do get it. That is also why for me personally it is so demoralizing to watch so many people treat him like he is a child who cannot make his own decisions or stand up for himself. Part of that frustration stems from it feeling like a media literacy issue, and the other part of that sense of defeat is just because it feels indicative of a broader attitude that people seem to hold towards victims of abuse, particularly those who are victims of SA.
To explain what I mean by people infantilizing him: I see so many people refuse to allow him the opportunity to be hurt, or to feel uncomfortable. They see this character who has been through an immensely horrible and traumatic experience, and their instinct is to try and shield him from anything else that has the potential to upset him. I get that the people who want that aren't doing it with malicious intent, but frankly it is not really...Helpful? To try and prevent victims from Experiencing Discomfort tm. I also think it kind of disregards the entire thesis of Astarion's character and arc.
When you go through something that robs you of your selfhood and agency, the world can become a crushingly terrifying place. In Astarion, that fear presents itself in a desperation for power, control, and at the core of both of these desires- Safety. One thing the game is clear about is that he has a right to kill his abuser. He has a right to escape his situation. A lot of Astarion's personal arc is centered around being able to finally do that. But the game doesn't just leave it off at getting him to safety. So much of it is also about him needing to take responsibility for himself and his actions, with needing to learn who he as a person is.
The inclusion of the Gur children and Sebastian as characters is a good example of ways in which the game gives Astarion the opportunity to take responsibility. I think that if the intention of the arc was meant to be that "Astarion should never ever have to deal with being afraid or uncomfortable again", then the Ascended arc wouldn't Come with such heavy moral ramifications, like sacrificing the other people just like him, killing the victims he lured in, literal child murder. The game infers that he doesn't deserve to die because of the things he Needed to do to survive, but it also makes it very clear that there is a difference between addressing an Active Threat and using your fear as an excuse to hurt others. Breaking that cycle of abuse when he finally gets the chance to is what separates Spawn Astarion from Cazador.
Taking responsibility for himself, and letting himself sit in the discomfort of vulnerability ultimately ends up being a thing that he is very proud of and cherishes. If you tell him you will make sure nothing like that ever again he himself says that he doesn't want you to be his protector. And so it blows my mind when people go into all of these discussions about Astarion with this...Weird moral high ground for never, ever making or letting him make choices that might hurt him?
I see this the most when it comes to discussions about the possible polyamorous relationship with Halsin and the interaction with the drow twins in the brothel. So many people are just...outright angry? At other people engaging with either of those options? And I feel like that anger is one) rooted in the projection of their Own feelings on non-monogamy and what a victim of SA can or cannot look like. and two) Relies on undermining the agency that Astarion BEGS you for at every turn.
When it comes to the drow twins, the game adapts Astarion's response to them based on where he is in his own personal development (a really cool thing imo). Obviously, if he still doesn't feel good or safe about engaging with sex he declines and says you can feel free, though he hopes you aren't just doing it because he hasn't had sex with you. I think this makes sense: He's just gotten out of a situation where his Safety and worth were directly tied to him having sex. I imagine he feels afraid that not wanting to have sex with you makes him replaceable or inadequate because at this point in the game, he feels like that's all he has to offer. The interaction is relatively the same if you ask him for a poly amorous relationship with Halsin: He just asks you to reassure him that you aren't only doing it because he hasn't had sex with you, and then tells you he isn't worried about it otherwise.
A lot of people have taken the expression of that insecurity in combination with him still allowing you to go forward and do these things as him just "sucking it up" because he's afraid of losing you. (I am aware Shadowheart says he wouldn't be able to handle it when you ask her if you can date both of them- But keep in mind, Astarion says she wouldn't be able to either, and THAT obviously isn't true of her. For the purposes of this discussion I'm only including interactions with Astarion as a judgement of his character.) I understand that concern, but I feel this take disregards so many other points of dialogue, and is also continually rooted in the baseline vilification of discomfort.
To further go into it, the way that he speaks about both of these interactions changes significantly if you speak to him about it once he is completely free from Cazador, and has had time to allow himself to start reconnecting with himself and his sexuality on his terms. He has absolutely No reservations about an open or poly relationship with Halsin, and says he trusts that things will be ok because he one) feels secure in Your relationship and two) Knows Halsin is experienced and trusts him to not be a messy bitch about it.
I think that shift, in combination with the in game explanation of why he isn't ok with being in that sort of relationship with the other Origin Characters (for Lae'zel and Wyll, he says they'd never agree to that. For Shadowheart, he says she's not experienced with open relationships and that he doesn't think it'd work out. For Karlach, that it would break her heart. And for Gale, he says you need standards.) is a pretty good indicator that he doesn't actually care about polyamory or monogamy. I think the vilification of that choice relies on you picking and choosing when you do or do not believe Astarion or just outright not liking non-monogamy in the first place. This interaction has more to do with the player's choice and comfort level, and so is not as important to the broader discussion I am trying to have in this post.
The interaction that is more pertinent to not Allowing him to make decisions is, I think, the drow twins. If you interact with the drow twins after the completion of the Cazador questline, he is outright giddy at the prospect of interacting with the Drow twins. Specifically stating that he is excited to see how he likes these sorts of things now that he's free.
NOW- I do NOT think that he enjoys the act. The game makes that abundantly clear, and I'm not arguing that he has a great time. He obviously does not, and dissociates during it. That being said, allowing this interaction to happen does not make a player evil or selfish. You are not playing the hero if you decide to moderate his choices just because you do not think he is ready for it. Once again, no one is evil for Not doing it either, and I am not saying anybody has to want to. I am just saying that treating this choice like it is an evil choice to make relies on completely disregarding what He wants to do.
Astarion says so many times in the game that he is anxious about finally having the freedom to find out what he wants to do, and I think that his excitement for the drow twin exchange is one of the opportunities the game gives him to make a choice. He makes that choice- And it sucks for him. He doesn't enjoy the act, and having done it he would be able to move forward knowing that. I think it's really cool and important that the game represents that facet of recovering as a victim. While you are trying to renavigate who you are, you are going to make a million new choices you never had before. And sometimes those choices are going to suck ass. It would be a different matter if he knew these things would hurt him and went ahead and did them anyway. But so many people expect him to move forward avoiding even the Potential of being hurt, and I think that is extremely reductive of his arc and who he is.
Beyond the matter of interpersonal relationships, the choice between Ascending or not Ascending Astarion is not a matter of choosing the lesser of two evils. It is a choice between his fear and his humanity. Between letting his trauma and his fear define him for the rest of his immortal life, and allowing him the vulnerability of deciding who he is when he isn't running from the world. When he's willing to listen to the parts of himself that want to do right, that wants meaningful connection, that wants to be proud of himself. That wants to meet himself. To confront who he is when someone else isn't deciding that for him.
Astarion as a character is extremely ambitious, inquisitive, and adventurous, three traits that only become more and more evident as he breaks free from letting his own fear dictate how he lives his life. I don't understand how so many people can see him and want to take the core of his character away from him, when he spends the entire game fighting desperately to take it back.
Victims are not casts of the abuse they have gone through. Their shapes may be changed by the hands of others, they may have to relearn how to be the person they want to be. But they are not broken or irreparable or fragile. They do not need to be freed from the grip of one person to be held tight in the grip of another. It is so fucking unfair and self-important to think that your hands will be the ones that fix them. That your hands know better than theirs. I think the kindest thing you can do for a person is to trust them with themselves, and to listen when they tell you who they are and what they want. Please listen to the voices that have only just learned to speak. It is the only way they can get better at doing it.
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oncomingnight · 3 months
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Yandere! boyfriend x fem reader
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Malik is the sweetest guy you've ever come across and his charisma doesn't even come at a cost. You've never met anyone, no matter the gender, that was as attentive and humorous as him. Malik could care less if he's making himself look like a fool as long as he's graced with the presence of your heartwarming smile. His humor consists of material you'd only ever expect to hear out of the mouth of a teenage boy which is what makes his jokes so much funnier.
He doesn't need an international holiday in order to spoil you with stuffed animals, sweets and handwritten letters, he already gifts you all those things for the simple fact that he wants to. Malik is always showing up to your shared apartment with a bouquet of flowers in hand as he feels like the worst man to ever walk the Earth if he does otherwise.
Letting you pay for yourself is something he'll never allow you to do, as long as he's with you of course. He can't exactly stop you from doing so if he's not physically next to you (rare occurrence)but he has his own way of handling that issue. He'll notice if you seemed to have purchased something with your own money while he wasn't around, and immediately reach into his pocket in an effort to pay you back.
"You look so pretty, baby. Is that a new lipgloss?" "Yeah it is, I bought it when we were at the market the other day!" "Oh yeah? How much was it, baby? I'll give you your money back, just let me know if you want something next time, okay? I don't care if I look like I'm busy with something else, I have all the time in the world when it comes to you."
While we're on the topic of time I think this is the perfect moment to mention the fact that Malik is extremely possessive over not only you but also your time. Nothing gets him more upset than when the two of you are out together at a public setting and your friends attempt at pulling all of your attention away from him. In reality, your friends are simply making conversation with you and they actually make several attempts at including him in the conversation. This, however, doesn't matter to Malik one bit, he can see right through their 'good people' personas.
Malik practically battles with other people when it comes to having your full attention on him. It's not even a case where you're not appreciating how greatly he treats you, no. He is the one who is urging himself to be the absolute best for you before someone attempts at lifting you off of your feet and away from him. He finds it incredibly comedic when others attempt at acting as if they could ever understand or know you as well as he does. There have been many instances where he's gotten you the perfect gift and he just can't help but look on at the other party attendees with pity, as they all now know that you won't be as satisfied with their presents.
Is Malik a possessive boyfriend (soon to be husband)? Yes. Although, this doesn't mean he won't allow you to have girl trips/sleepovers. If you're having a girls trip in an area with a completely different time zone, this will not prevent Malik from staying up as late and early as he needs in order to call and wish you a good morning.
He will keep you on the phone for extremely extended amounts of time (not that you mind). Your friends could try their absolute hardest at being irritated towards his constant need to be near you and to call you but they just can't. Malik is so sickeningly sweet to you that they'd be seen as bitter people that are just jealous due to the fact they've never been as loved and cared for as you are now.
Malik didn't exactly grow up in the most accepting house hold, even as a child, he felt as though he was constantly walking on eggshells with his parents. His parents were raised with extremely aggressive religious views that would quite obviously intimidate the average person, this caused him to be raised in an environment where even cartoons most people deemed as 'kid friendly' were forbidden. Anything that wasn't blatantly religious was seen as unholy, his parents wanted him to uphold the stereotypical attitude of toxic manhood that even him doing simple acts of skincare were seen as something to 'look out for'.
This extremely damaged environment he was raised in just may be the reason as to why he doesn't speak to his family anymore and why he loves so ferociously, like a rabid animal. I don't know though, it's not like I make the rules or anything.
He absolutely adores doing anything and everything romantic with you, especially within the comfort of your own home. When the holidays roll around, there's nothing he loves more than brewing up two cups of iced coffee, sporting matching onesies, baking Christmas cookies and lighting up the fire place as the moon shines into your shared bedroom window.
Well, there is one thing he loves more than all of that.
That's you.
Edit: credit to @cafekitsune for the divider ♡
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erwinsvow · 18 days
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imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol
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you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.
"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."
you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.
hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.
the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.
you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.
you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.
footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.
you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.
"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.
heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.
when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.
"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.
you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.
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luveline · 6 months
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i have a request idea! maybe aaron x reader where the reader is bullied/ being maltreated by her roommates like that one remus headcanon you filled? i love protective hotch but i get it if you don’t think this goes with him! your fics give me sm comfort thank you for writing them <3
thank you my love. fem, 1.5k
cw bullying/ unfriendly roommates
You can't believe it's Aaron's car. No way is his timing this bad. There's just no way he's home from a case, that he's chosen to visit without calling first, today. Right now. 
He's out of the car before you've so much as wiped your cheeks dry. You've never seen him park that fast. 
"What are you doing out here?" he asks, looking you up and down. "Let me help you up, sweetheart." 
Sweetheart so soon after seeing you —you must look terrible. You take his hand and stand up off of the floor, unperturbed as he brushes down your butt and thighs. 
"Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asks, soft, "It's wet, honey, you're crying– What's wrong?" 
You remember suddenly that you have someone on your side. Shaking, you tuck your arms under his and cross them behind his back, the fabric of his suit jacket familiar under your trembling fingers. You feel like a kid again at the mercy of other people's cruelty, but this hasn't been something you could run away from. The meanness takes root at home. But now Aaron's here and he's holding you, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head delicately, his voice a murmur as he reassures you, "It's alright." He presses his cheek to the plane just adjacent to your eye. "Honey, please don't cry." 
"They smashed my vase," you say into his chest. 
"Who?" 
"My roommates, Aaron, they don't– don't like me." The vase was a gift. Special to you, irreplaceable, you've brought it safely from one place to another without ever having broken it. It was in the kitchen, housing your most recent bouquet of flowers from Aaron. "Macy said it fell over, but they were laughing, and they said the same thing about my bag, my– my sketchbook. They keep ruining my things, they throw away my food, and they laugh at me all the time, even when I'm not doing anything. I know they are."  
The laughing is honestly the worst part. Like your reaction isn't even worth considering, it doesn't bother them that you're upset, they just giggle and tell you to feel better. Sometimes they apologise like it wasn't them. Sorry about that, maybe don't leave it somewhere it could get ruined? with a smile that hardly counts as sympathetic. 
"How long has this been happening?" he asks. 
Months. "Since we met, at least." 
Aaron makes a noise you don't understand. You wait for him to say more, but he only rubs your back diligently for a time before ushering you into the car. A bag of takeout has gone cold in the passenger seat, the backseat busy with his go bag and a new bouquet. He's very, very good to you. 
In the car, he reaches across the console to fret over you, stroking your damp cheeks and rubbing your shoulders. You feel as though all your energy has been stolen. All you can do is lean into his hand as he wipes away your quiet tears. 
Hotch watches you cry in his passenger seat and feels pretty angry. It's not often like him to turn to anger when the people he cares about are upset. He's more of a problem solver. But when it's as bad as it is now, he doesn't bother restraining himself. 
He knew there was something about your roommates that you weren't telling him. Obviously, as the partner in the relationship who doesn't have roommates, Hotch hosts the majority of your 'sleepovers'. It's easier and awards more privacy most of the time, and honestly, he's not at the age where he's very interested in bumping into people on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. He'd prefer to be home, and much prefer to have you there. 
He was wondering about asking you to move in, but there never seemed to be a good time, and right now your answer would likely be influenced by the insecurity of your home rather than true desire to live with him. He knows one day, he'll ask, and one day you'll say yes, (or he hopes), and so he keeps it in mind but otherwise proposes a temporary arrangement. 
"Let's go get some of your things and you can stay with me for a few days," he says. 
"Are you sure?" you ask. "What about Jack?" 
"He'll be happy for the company. Trust me." 
Hotch isn't shallow, but he likes being that little bit taller than you, and he's no brute, either, but he knows he's intimidating at times. He'd never use his position to scare private citizens in civilian disputes, but seeing the amusement in the eyes of your  roommates turn to nervous recognition when he follows in behind you makes his day. 
She's not alone, he thinks, putting his hand to your back. 
He might put their behaviour down to jealousy. Not so much that they wish they were with Hotch, there's hardly been any desire for him coming from either woman, but your happiness. You're a nice girl, a good girl, good in the sense that you don't need to knock others down to be happy. He treats you accordingly. 
He pointedly doesn't greet them as you show him the corridor down to your room. Your door is ajar, which he doesn't like, but you don't say anything about your things. 
"What do you need?" he asks.
"How long will I stay?" 
"However long you need to. If you want time to feel better while we manage this, or you need to move. I'm with you." He again thinks of the lack of a lock. "I'd say bring your valuables, honey. So nothing miraculously breaks." 
He ends up packing for you. He knows you well, and he's more than aware of what you'll need to survive for a week. What clothes, which pyjamas you favour, even your skincare. He has a career in identifying small details, but it's a better duty knowing you so well. He does that for fun. 
You stop by the door and turn into his side, hesitant to leave. He hates seeing you wilted, usually so bright. "They're talking about me." 
Your roommates are indeed whispering in the kitchen and Hotch would bet money that you're correct, but he doesn't want to encourage that line of thought. It could easily become a seed of doubt that leaves you anxious and paranoid. 
"I'd hope they were discussing their own bullying," he says. 
You rest your forehead on his arm. "What did I ever do to them?" 
"You're happy. You're grateful and loving, and some people can't stand it. They can't rope you into their misery," he guesses. "Have you considered the possibility that you're a bad roommate?" 
You laugh into his jacket reluctantly. "You know I'm not."
"Maybe you behave with me," he says, rubbing the top of your shoulder. Your laughter draws a silence in the kitchen. Hotch can't help himself. "Don't forget to turn your security camera on before we leave," he says, holding a finger over his lips. 
You smile. "Oh, I almost forgot about that." 
Your roommates aren't so full of cheer as you go. At least without a lock on the door, Hotch can be confident that his… bending of the truth will buy your possessions a few more days of safety. You don't have to tell your roommates that you're leaving, evidenced by your bags, but Hotch is feeling awful, and he says, "Do you have your bathing suit? Your passport's in the bag." 
"What is wrong with you?" you whisper through laughter as the door closes behind you both. "I had no idea you were this quick to tell lies." 
Hotch pulls your bag further up his arm to take your hand. "I wasn't lying about anything, your passport is in the bag, and I asked a question. If that question implies that you're about to have a fun weekend, that's coincidental." 
He doesn't want your roommates thinking they have any power over you. Not an inch of it. And he doesn't want you thinking that they do either, knee deep in plans for the forthcoming days. He's going to spoil you to death if he can, starting with a new vase for your waiting flowers, and a good squeeze on the way down to the car to prompt you into relaxing. 
"Sorry about all the fuss," you say. 
He kisses you twice. "Don't think of it that way." Rather boss-toned, he softens, "I'll deal with anything for you. I'm sorry they've been cruel." 
You exhale. He can tell from the tug of your eyebrows that it's partly for his benefit, and the more lax set of your shoulders that it's partly genuine as you brush it off. "Doesn't matter. Just an excuse to spend more time with you, yeah?" 
"Yes," he says immediately. "You're right, honey. Exactly right." Starting with one of his clumsy neck massages and a much more practised kiss, he thinks. 
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Text
Three for One 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you're used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what's on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: Right, this was supposed to be a drabble series but it morphed and not I'm fucked.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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It's the most special time of year! Mistletoe, jingle bells, and holiday cheer! Oh, and hot chocolate. Lots of that.
You hide your thermos under the desk and grab the crystal bottle again, giving a test spritz to the air. Your job isn't very complicated. All you do is say hi and chat about the perfume. Your manager says the job is selling but you don't like to see it that way.
You smile at a family of five as they veer towards the toy section. You don't think the six year old would be into an eau de parfum. It's understandable.
While you spend your hours wandering around expensive makeups and scents, you're filled with a certain hint of longing. For what you're paid to push the merchandise, you can't afford any of it yourself. Well, you've never been very materialistic.
You spin around and see a gentlemen approaching, though he doesn't seem to see you. He looks past you, almost through you. You stop in place and put on your best smile, fixing the red band around your head.
"Hello, sir, would you like to try some Gucci?" You offer and spray the nozzle at him.
He skids to a stop and recoils as if he's been slapped. He holds out his arm as he looks down at his coat, little droplets seeping into the fabric. He takes a whiff, his short mustache wiggling under his nose, and he scoffs as he tries to shake off the cologne.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He snips.
"Sorry, sir, I didn't mean to scare you."
"You just go around spray people with that horseshit?"
"Well, sir, with respect, I don't like that sort of language.
"And I don't like being drenched in dog piss," he blusters, "point me to the goddamn trimmers."
"Um, what kind? Nail trimmers? Pet trimmers? Garden trimmers?"
"What the fuck do you think?" He points to his own face.
You hold your smile. There's always that one customer who's having a bad day. Whatever's got him so upset must be worse than dealing with him.
"Personal care," you point to the far corner, "right over there, sir."
"Ugh," he stomps and storms off.
"I hope your day gets better," you call after him, "oh, did you want a store coupon--"
He ignores you as he waves you off over his shoulder. You watch him turn towards men's grooming and you shrug, rocking slightly. You try not to let them get to you. As jolly as you find this time of year, a lot of people don't feel the same.
You shrug off the encounter. You still have a few hours ahead of you and it's starting to bustle with customers. You help a couple find the home wares while keeping the boundary of cosmetics firm. Lucille, the manager, doesn't like you leaving your zone.
You approach a woman looking at the Prada selection and get her checked out with a new fragrance, specially gift-wrapped by yours truly. She leaves happy, a small victory for the day. You celebrate but not too much.
You come around the counter just as you see that man strutting back up. He has an item in his hand and ignores you as he passes. Still you smile at him.
"Annoying," he mutters under his breath.
"Need help finding anything else, sir?" You ask his heels.
He stops and you see the way his spine stiffens. Oh no, you shouldn't have said anything. He slowly turns to face you.
"You can shut up," he marches up to you and grabs the bottle from your hands, "shut." He sprays you in the face, "up." He squirts you several more times before shoving the vial against your chest, "stupid little girl."
You take the bottle, blinking as you use your cuff to wipe the perfume away from your eyes. He continues on his path as you stand dumbfounded, drenched in Gucci cologne. It's hard to breathe through the heavy scent and you can't help but cough.
What a jerk. Just because he's having a bad day, doesn't mean everyone needs to.
Slowly you grow accustomed to the smell of yourself. It’s not too unusual. You go nose blind about halfway through your shift once you spray a few too many samples. You keep your distance from customers, offering them a spritz but trying not to crowd them with the vapors of cologne rippling off of you.
You yawn as the afterwork rush floods in and you make another round, smiling at Sofia as she peeks over at you. She’s with another customer at the counter, ringing them up as she gabs. You spin at the display at the center of the crossway that runs through the beauty department and stagger back before another can run you over.
You apologise to the tall man as he skids to a stop on his soles. You can tell he’s in a hurry by the way he grips his briefcase and squares his jaw. He wears a long dark wool coat as flecks of snow melt into his thick beard.
“Oh, sorry, I er, wasn’t–” He clears his throat, collecting himself, “I… didn’t see you.”
“That’s okay, sir,” you assure him, “would you like to try the new scent?”
You hold up the onyx bottle but don’t spray him. You don’t need another dousing. He looks at the silver letters on the side then at you. The furrow in his brow lightens as his blue eyes swim.
“No thanks, but er, you think you could help me find something?”
“Of course,” you chime and lower the bottle, “are you looking for a gift for someone special?”
He nods, “my mother-in-law is on her way into town, I need a present. Maybe perfume?”
His tone is tinted with frustration as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He lets out a long sigh. He’s one of those shoppers; the last minute scrambler. You grasp the vial in one hand and tug at the front of your thick red sweater, you’re starting to get a bit toasty in the crowded store.
“How old is she?” You ask.
“Um,” he clamps his lips together and thinks, “hmmm, probably seventy-something? I’m sorry, I guess I should know that.”
“That’s okay, I… I would suggest some Liz Taylor,” you turn on your heel and wave him after you as you head off, “it’s a classic. Not so much a me scent but the older crowd likes it. Oh, and it’s on special so your wallet won’t hate it, either.”
You stop by the Diamonds display as you face him again. He follows at a pace and stops before the shelf, perusing the gold caps and crystal caps. He considers the rack in deep thought.
“Here,” you set down your bottle on a nearby table of seasonal decorations and take one from the display. You slip out a strip of cardstock and spray it with the sampler, “this one is gardenia. That was her favourite scent. It’s probably the least pungent.”
You offer him the sample and he eyes it. He slowly bends and sniffs the end of the paper. He wiggles his nose. It makes you sneeze too. As much as you’re a fan of the classic actress, her scents are dated.
“Smells like her,” he grumbles under his breath, “sure, I’ll take that.”
“Great,” you declare and trade the sampler for a boxed bottle, then retrieve your disposed Gucci vial, “would you like me to check you out, sir?”
“Is it faster?” 
“I can be fast,” you promise him, “this way.”
You go around the sparkling counters and he meets you across the till. You type in your log in, taking several tries to get your passcode right. The man places his briefcase on the counter,a hand resting on the edge.
“You know a lot about this stuff?” He prompts.
“Yeah, I guess,” you smile as you scan the perfume and tap the special offer on the screen, “kinda part of the job.”
“Hmm” he hums again, in that thoughtful manner. You look at him but he’s not looking at your face, “that’s a nice sweater.”
You look down at the red wool speckled with pearls. It’s new and one of your favourites already. You can’t help a little wiggle of your shoulders, “thanks!”
“Very… cheerful,” he muses as he takes out his wallet, “wish I could say the same of what awaits me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir, it’s that time of year, I guess,” you push the debit machine towards him and he taps his credit card, “I’m sure your mother-in-law will love the perfume.” The transaction approves and the receipt prompts, “would you like an email?”
“Nah, that’s fine,” he tucks his credit card away.
“Would you like it gift-wrapped?” You offer, “it’s free?”
He hovers his hand over his briefcase as he considers it. His eyes meet yours and his cheek dimples, “alright, yeah, that’s… that’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No problem,” you beam back at him, “let me just get some tissue paper…”
You murmur to yourself as you grab some gold tissue paper and a white gift bag with a Christmas tree embossed into the side. You carefully line up the small box on the paper and begin your intensive work. You're a master wrapper, you used to work at the wrapping station in the mall.
“What about you?” He asks before the silence can stretch too far, “you seeing family for the holidays? When you’re not working?”
“Um,” you smile as you look up, “I’m just hanging out with my dog. I bought him a bone.”
“A dog,” he nods, “your family live out of town?”
Usually, you ask the questions. It’s easier that way. It deflects the attention from you. It’s why you like the job; you can hear all about others and not have to think about yourself.
“Yeah, something like that,” you slip the wrapped box into the bag and fluff the tissue paper.
“Eh!” The loud exclamation makes you jump as the man merely turns his head, a tic in his jaw. His eyes narrow as another customer approaches, strutting with hands in his jacket pocket as he calls out, “Barber, what the hell?”
Your customer shifts towards the man, heels squeaking on the floor, “Hugh.”
“Don’t Hugh me, asshole,” the other man retorts, “you said you were busy? What’s the matter, you lose too much money last time?”
“Suzette is in town. Family dinner,” the man, Barber, drones dully.
“Ah, ditched for the old crone, I get it.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, wouldn’t you know it, poker night was canceled, something about not enough seats,” the man counters sharply.
“Next week,” the first man growls.
“Hey, you,” the man in the russet coat snaps his fingers in your direction, “you got some of that Acqua di Gio. That dumb girl over there said you’re sold out.”
Your brows pop up and you swallow tightly. He’s another type. The arrogant demander. He doesn’t hear no. He’ll ask everyone the same question in hope of getting a different answer.
“We are out of stock, sir, but I could order it in for you,” you suggest.
“Order in? I can just go on Amazon, thanks for nothing,” he chops his hand at you dismissively.
“Hey,” the other man nudges his chest, “be nice. She’s working.”
“What? I’m here to spend money and they got shit all–”
“It’s December,” the other man reproaches before he turns back to you, “sorry, my friend is a jerk.” He accepts the gift bag as you hold it out, “thank you. You saved me.”
“No problem, but er, I was gonna say,” you turn to the other man, “sir, I have some samples of the Armani. I could give you those while you wait for the order.”
“Samples?” He echoes, “how many?”
“Let me have a look,” you back up and go to the drawer at the back of the checkout.
“I gotta get going, miss,” the first man waves his hand as you peek over your shoulder, “have a happy holiday.”
“You too,” you chirp back and find the last few tubes of Armani. You claim them and prance back to meet the new customer at the counter, “I have five.” You lay out your wares, “if I order in a bottle it’ll be in just before Christmas.”
“Two weeks?” He puffs.
“I’m sorry, sir, that’s the earliest I can do. It’s the last day I can guarantee delivery before Christmas.”
“Talk, talk, talk, order it,” he snaps.
“Right, let me just…” you open the shop and search up the scent. You add it to the cart and proceed. “Alright, got that, did you want it shipped for pick up here or to your address.”
“Here, they can never fucking find my house,” he sniffs.
“Great, so when it arrives, we’ll give you a call. You’ll also get an email to confirm.”
“What’s going on here?” He points at you suddenly. You look down again at your sweater but don’t see anything amiss. You flinch as he reaches to pinch one of the pearls, “what is this?”
“Oh, I… my sweater,” you raise your head, swallowing down the insult. It’s cute!
“Huh, Walmart clearance, huh,” he scoffs, “alright, how much are you robbing me for?”
He reaches into his coat as you hit total. You read out the final amount but he doesn’t pull out a card; he hands you cash. You count the bills, twice over, then give him his change. He looms with impatient huffs.
“Here’s your receipt,” you hand him the strip of paper. “Have a good day, sir.”
“Mmm,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he shoves the receipt into his pocket, “actually, while I’m here, I’d like a new sweater. You can help me and I’ll show you what real quality is.”
You almost laugh. Not spitefully, it’s just a bit silly. He’s competing with you, a perfume pusher.
“Well, sir, I can point you towards men’s fashion but I’m not able to leave this department, I’m sorry,” you give a sheepish smile.
“Oh no, good girl wouldn’t want to break the rules,” he rolls his eyes, “goody goody and her precious little smile.” He hooks his thumbs in his pockets, “my shit better be in by Christmas.”
He twists and strides away. You watch him go but not for long as you’re quickly distracted by a customer looking at the Britney Spears collection. Those are easy sellers.
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untoldstar · 1 year
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yandere boss when you find another job
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warning: fem reader, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, abuse of power
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At first, he notices a change in your demeanor, you do as you're told but you don't engage with him as much as you used to, the conversations you two had felt quite..personal to him, you two would talk in his office where no one would overhear or interfere, you even had inside jokes that only you two would understand, it felt special to him, so when conversations with you wouldn't go past five sentences alarms started going off in his head, did he say something to upset you? has one of your co-workers been bothering you? just tell him he can take care of it in the blink of an eye! it's not like it would be the first time he's done that for you. Perhaps your workload has been too exhausting? he'll happily give you a vacation if it means you'll treat him how you used to
This man reflects for a whole day to make he didn't upset you in any way, he gives you simple errands and prolongs your breaks but that only seems to spark even more of an unpleasant emotion in you, he replays all the security cameras in the office to see if someone has been harassing you which doesn't turn out to be the case but it does lead him to notice you being on the phone more often than usual and his mind immediately goes south, has she gotten a boyfriend? when? how have I not noticed this..
He backtracks all your calls to find out who you've been talking with so he can deal with them properly but he finds that most of your calls have been with another company..what would you need from another company? a job application? you were planning on leaving him?!
He becomes so paranoid, he goes to every length possible, he makes everyone in the office guilt trip you into staying with comments on how work would suck if you weren't there, how they would have a crisis every week if you weren't there to handle it quickly and swiftly every time, just what would they do without you?
He almost goes as far as giving you a bad reputation in the company you were planning on applying to when it finally happened..
You walking into his office with the most serious face you've had since he hired you, he listens to you utter the words "I'm resigning" from your beautiful soft lips and the rest is turning into muffled mumbles in his brain because the only thing he's thinking of is locking you both in his office forever where he can keep his eye on you, where you can't run away from him.
You finish the speech you so clearly prepared and exhaled while looking at him expectantly, guilt written all over your face, he doesn't say anything for a few seconds, the silence filling up his spacious office until it's broken with a deep chuckle, your shoulders slump down, that definitely wasn't the reaction you were expecting, he rises from his chair and starts to make his way around the desk to where your standing, the sound of his hitting the floor with every step only makes you more nervous "what could you possibly want from another company love? everything you need is right here!" you shift your weight to step back "I..well I already told you why-" he steps closer invading your space "ah yes you mentioned it but that's simply not good enough, see, all the reasons you've mentioned I can take care of I still fail to see why you would go searching for that somewhere else, could it be me you're escaping?" you're eyes blow wide "no! of course not..look, sir, I'm sorry but even though I know you're fully capable of providing me with what I'm searching for but I've already decided..working with you has been-" you jolt as he slams his hand on the desk trapping you against it, his head hangs low for a second before he lifts it and your heart skips a beat at the look in his eyes, you've never seen him look at you that way the entire time you've worked here " ah..your behavior over the past two weeks makes sense now, you were too guilty to act the way you usually do because you knew it was special too! and you just couldn't bring yourself to do that when you were planning on leaving..oh you sweet little thing, it must have been so hard to act so cold towards someone so special to you but alas, your efforts are in vain because you're not going anywhere my love.."
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theminecraftbee · 5 months
Text
Afterwards, they do a race. They don’t talk about it, but it’s there, between them still. Something settled between them. Cleo doesn’t know how to say it; they never know how to say things like this. Still, they need to, so they wait until Ren’s race is over and then hike through the jungle to go sit on top of Etho’s base and wait for him to show up as well.
He doesn’t. He’d gone to their base. Instead of just showing up for each other, they have to somewhat awkwardly coordinate over text which base to meet at. It forces everything to feel more real.
When they finally meet up, it’s in the shopping district, leaning against the button. A dangerous game in theory, but Cleo’s not fully convinced it can explode at this point, so.
Cleo breathes. They’re both quiet for a moment.
"Okay, so like, are we doing this?" Cleo says.
"I don’t really know, uh, what this is," Etho says, "but I… care about you. I think. So I think we’re doing that."
Cleo nods once. "You know I don’t fall in love, right? I’m not going to fall in love with you, I don’t do that. Might say something about loving you, but it’s not the same thing. Different sense of the word. It’s different, loving people and falling in love, got it? And I won’t do that second thing. I’m never going to do that second thing. I don’t--"
"Okay. I know," Etho says.
"Do you?" Cleo asks.
"I mean, not entirely, but I’m frankly surprised we’re having this conversation in the first place. I never expected you to be in love with me."
"But I’m not," Cleo says. "I’m attracted to you, and I love you as like, a companion and friend or whatever, but I’m not in love with you. I’m. Ugh. I wish I knew the right words. I just--I also don’t let go of things so if we’re doing this you’re going to have to get used to that real fast. Me not being in love with you but me not letting you go, both of those things."
"You're attracted to me? Aw, Cleo," Etho says.
"Don't be an ass," Cleo says.
"Sorry, sorry. It's just, geez, this is--a heavy conversation, huh?"
Cleo sighs. "We'll work on the deflection."
Etho rubs the back of his head and looks away. "Uh, in that case. If I'm maybe a little in love with you--"
"I can't--I can't reciprocate that, Etho," Cleo says, and their voice cracks as they do.
"I know," Etho says. "I just want to make sure it's okay, then."
"You can't help that, can you? Just like I can't help that I still sort of want to kill anyone who hurts you."
Etho seems to think about it for a while. Cleo resists the urge to fidget. She's a zombie. She shouldn't have the urge to fidget; she should be too dead for that. Besides, it's hardly like it's a secret she doesn't fall in love, exactly. It's just... it's only relevant sometimes. Feeling like, as she watches Etho and Bdubs dance around each other, she's on the outside looking in. She'd kill to hold their hands, to protect them, hell, even to kiss them--but that's different. She just can't summon the same emotion of... she doesn't know.
Martyn had almost gotten it, for all he didn't get anything else, in the end. Scott was never going to fall in love with her in the first place, for obvious reasons. Whatever attraction she and Pearl have going on, it's definitely not love.
But this...
"Okay," Etho says.
"That's it?" Cleo says.
"I mean, does it need to be anything else?" Etho says. "It's not like we can just... not do this. I think it's too late for that. Whatever 'this' is. I'm in love, and you aren't, but we'd both be pretty upset to lose this, right? So I'll... figure it out."
Cleo swallows. They feel small. "Will you? Do you understand?"
Etho shrugs. "I understand that it's you, and it's you that this happened with, not anyone else."
"Okay," Cleo says. "Okay."
"Is it okay if I kiss you? Just to try it, I mean. Not like, as a--this is a bad time, actually, I don't want to try to make any kissing we do romantic, I mean, you just told me this won't be romantic, I--"
"Yeah, sure, you can kiss me," Cleo says, and he leans in to kiss them. It's nice. A little soft for what they'd want, really, but nice. He leans back. He looks them in the eyes.
"I get it a little more now."
Cleo is baffled. "How? Kissing is just like, a thing we did? How does that have anything to do with any of the rest of this."
Etho laughs. "I definitely get it a little more now. What do you want to tell the others? I know they're definitely gossiping."
"Ugh. Can we just, like, not?" Cleo says. "I don't want to have to explain it."
"I'll just be confusing then, got it," Etho says, and Cleo can't help but laugh themselves.
"This is why you're my favorite," Cleo says, and they think maybe this will work out okay, after all.
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rogueddie · 2 years
Text
Steve loves giving people things.
It's one of the rare things he misses about Tommy and Carol- even when he'd just give them the food he didn't want, they'd light up and look so pleased. They were encouraging too- probably just because they wanted things from him, he knows that, but it still makes him feel all warm and happy just remembering it.
No one lets him give them stuff anymore.
Jonathon had accepted the replacement camera reluctantly and when Steve tried to give him other things for said camera, he got a door slammed in his face.
Nancy, drunk and repeatedly calling him 'bullshit', slips in a little dig at how Steve needs to buy peoples love.
Not even Dustin accepts anything from him. The only thing Steve could really offer him is a new walkie, or batteries, or food- but Dustin already has those things and dismisses any attempts Steve makes to learn what else he could get him. Jokes that he doesn't need to be bought.
By the time they save Eddie, turn the narrative on it's head and save the day- he's back on his parents payroll. Something about him being a hero in the newspapers (at Eddies insistence). Something about him being a good influence on the Harrington name. Something about him deserving some sort of reward.
That doesn't matter though, itt means he can start giving people actual gifts again!
But, he quickly bursts his own bubble. Because no one he knows wants any gifts from him. No one seems to understand. It makes him, for the first time in a long time, miss Tommy and Carol again.
He gets Eddie a new guitar though. It's not cheap, but he can afford it and... well, Eddies old one got destroyed in the Upside Down. It's the perfect excuse, right? It'd be like Jonathons camera- even if he's reluctant, he'll still accept it.
But it's not like Jonathon at all. Eddie is thrilled before he even opens the box, thrilled that Steve got him something. When he does open it and finds a new guitar, he screams (and scares his uncle, but even he seems to be understanding when he sees the guitar).
Eddie wants gifts. He jokes about it but, when Steve points out that he will if Eddie lets him, he looks genuinely excited at the idea. Tries to tell Steve that he doesn't have to, but he looks reluctant when he says that. Looks more upset that Steve might think he's greedy or using him.
So Steve starts getting him things. Usually just... little things. At first, it was a perfect excuse to start spending time with him, to become better friends.
He isn't sure when it started to mean something else. He isn't sure when he started to swap out little things he thinks will make Eddie laugh for... romantic things. For roses and chocolate. For things that will flatter Eddie and make him blush, make him pull some of his hair in front of his mouth and give Steve looks that can only be described as 'demure'.
It's when Steve gets him a little skull ring he'd seen in passing, something he'd seen and immediately thought of Eddie, that he finally gets the response he'd started secretly hoping for.
"How about... instead of a thing... next time, we go out?" Eddie shifts, hesitant. "Like... see a movie, get dinner?"
Steve had to bite his lip, trying to make his grin a little less goofy. "Yeah. You, uh... mean, like, a date, right?"
"Do you want it to be like a, uh, date?"
Steve can't quite get himself to say it, nodding instead.
Eddie gives him a little smile, looks painfully understanding. "A date then. I'm free this Saturday? I hear there's something cute and family friendly in cinemas that we could watch."
"Yeah, ok, Saturday. Um... you wanna get some food too?"
"Food sounds good. Dinner and a movie, very romantic. Pick me up at 6?"
"Yeah. Yeah, ok, 6. It's a date."
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sadokasochism · 14 days
Text
For me, the most heartbreaking aspect of Ivan is that the poor clueless bastard didn't have the tools to express his affection in any way that didn't involve violence or manipulation, or weren't too inscrutable, quiet, or unseen to be picked up by Till.
I definitely interpret Ivan as autistic for several reasons, a big one being their Segyein teacher's notes about him:
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It's just. Classic ND behaviour to me.
Not only does expressing emotion and communicating the way other kids do not come naturally to Ivan, but it's not as if he's been given a great example of coping with this from the Segyein.
Ivan managed to mask in a way that made him popular with other students, and got him in the good graces of their captors. He did everything expected of him to survive and thrive in this environment.
Then he meets Till, inscrutable and very different to the other kids, just like Ivan is. Except, Till doesn't mask. He doesn't change or try to endear himself to their captors, and he doesn't bend to anyone, no matter how much he is hurt and punished for it.
This is a new situation for Ivan, and he's never had anything to compare his feelings to. He also can't figure out how to communicate with Till, every interaction, no matter how well meaning, seems to end in failure.
I bring your attention to the cheer up comic, and how, again, autistic this interaction feels:
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There could be many reasons why Ivan chose to say what he did, but to me it feels like ND bluntness not being received well. And that's fair! From Till's perspective Ivan is being a jerk for no good reason.
Instead of responding with glee towards Till laying him out (as we see from Ivan when they're a bit older), Ivan justs seems... really confused. Like he didn't expect that statement to upset Till that much, and he didn't expect Till to respond in the way he did. Everything was fine a second ago, what went wrong?
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Then, Ivan uses the phrase he learned from Till in an attempt to self sooth. It might have been the first example of comfort after an injury/hurt he had ever seen, given how he defaults to it. And it was from Till trying to cheer up a flower.
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This also shows some of Till's blindspots. He has grown up having to be vigilant, because violence and hurt have been a core part of his upbringing. This leads to anything he doesn't immediately, clearly understand being perceived as a threat or a slight, and so he reacts violently to Ivan's statement.
I'll also draw your attention to this comic where, as far as we know, Ivan is simply stating a true fact in a blunt manner:
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In my interpretation, these types of interactions keep adding up, and Ivan is grasping at straws the whole time, trying to be closer to Till and failing every time.
Eventually, the only surefire way to get Till's attention is to piss him off, provoke him, manufacture scenarios to talk to him. I'm not excusing this behaviour, but I understand where Ivan could be coming from, from the perspective of both an emotionally immature/stunted child and/or an ND child.
Despite how much they fight and bicker, at every moment it really mattered, Ivan was there for Till. It was always Ivan coming to free him, to take off his collar or gag, and it was Ivan who led their escape.
Ivan couldn't leave Till behind when he went back for Mizi. Even with the confirmation that Till would choose Mizi over Ivan every time, Ivan couldn't leave him.
The miscommunication goes two ways though. It's insane to think that Till didn't care about Ivan at all. They were close as kids, and I doubt Till ever forgot about the escape he gave up.
We have the graduation messages, where Ivan is able to write something that could be reasonably interpreted as affectionate or fond towards Till.
Meanwhile, Till's message-
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If we're being charitable with our interpretations, we can say this was Till's way of saying 'of course I remember you' and attempting to communicate that Ivan HAD left a lasting impact on him.
However, how could any reasonable person be expected to get THAT out of 'you stole my fucking pencil'? Ivan could have taken this one of two ways:
1) Omg he remembers me 🥰
2) he leans into his 'i will never be loved back' bias and thinks that Till really doesn't care about him at all
Who the hell knows what goes through that weird little brain of his. But given how Round 6 went, and what Ivan had to say in the confession comic, he obviously didn't think his impact was significant enough.
Then Alien Stage happens, and in Round 3 Ivan is FINALLY communicating his feelings in a way that is vulnerable and might even have a chance of being understood as love and yearning!
Till is unconscious through it until the very end.
Then in the next round, Mizi goes missing, and Till can't care about anything anymore.
Ivan finds him after the private performance, takes off his gag, and just holds him. Again, Till is unconscious for all of this.
Then, in Round 6, not only is Till distraught from the disappearance of Mizi, but he's given no time to process what the fuck is going on before Ivan is dead at his feet. Till might have finally had a chance to really understand where Ivan was coming from, how he really felt all this time, and Ivan DIES.
And still, Ivan's most transparent act of affection? It's delivered with violence. He's kissing a distraught Till who tries to push him away, and neither of them are happy. He puts his hands around Till's neck, not really hurting him, but it's enough to look convincing for the cameras, and it's enough for Till to go limp and wait for death. Ivan's final loving act is to give Till a soft look with blood pouring out of his mouth, that Till still does not see, and then let go before falling to the ground.
It's just a collection of failures. We see from Ivan that he truly loved Till, made a lot of selfless decisions for his sake, was filled with so much longing and affection, but he just couldn't get it across in a way that doesn't seem fucking deranged from an outsider's perspective. And when he DID manage to communicate his feelings more clearly, it was to a Till that was unconscious, or too distracted/dense/traumatised to see Ivan's actions as ones of love.
There's no guarantee that Till would have reciprocated even if Ivan had managed to communicate his feelings in a healthier way, but there was at least a CHANCE. At least Ivan could have gotten some closure, even if he was rejected.
Instead Ivan died thinking he was completely unloved by the person who he cared about more than anything else, and his last ditch effort to make Till understand was deeply flawed and uncomfortable.
If these kids had grown up any other way, maybe they could have had a chance. Unfortunately, the world they were in didn't equip them to not hurt eachother in their attempts to grow closer.
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freakoont · 26 days
Text
❝𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬❞
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐨 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐩𝐨 𝐄𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚 【SFW and NSFW included】
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
GENDER NETURAL BUT AFAB READER sorry :')
REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! check the bottom of this post for information <3
︵‿︵‿୨🍪୧‿︵‿︵
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【SFW】
When you first start to begin noticing signs of having a crush on him, Ranpo immediately picks up on it.
Does he actually say or do anything about it? No . . . Not for a long while.
He's not embarrassed or nervous about it, actually he uses your little crush as a advantage to tease and mess with your cute little brain !
"hey, (Y/N) can you get me some pockys? I'm about to die from hunger, y'know!"
"..I'm busy, Ranpo."
"oh, fine."
...
"oh yeah, (Y/N) I seem to recall you were staring a lot at me earlier, which is kind of odd for a friend-"
"I'll get those snacks now"
Ranpo's never had a crush or significant other, so there are some things he doesn't know what to do. but he mostly treats your relationship the same way he treated you back when you were just friends
At first, he was a little nervous about saying things like 'I love you' because he thought it sounded cringe, but after a short while he needs to hear you say it 30 times a hour with lots of kisses💋
Ranpo can be a little shit at times, but he makes up for it for his good memory and always being able to understand you better than you know yourself.
Example: Ranpo will always remember little things about you! He noticed you staring at a T-shirt in the mall once and suddenly you've got it gifted to you, "from the worlds greatest detective; to my favorite assistant"
A lot of times when you're working in ADA, Ranpo will just hop onto your lap and keep still and silent as he eat snacks.
He loves being in your presence, just being around you is enough.
He's not crazy on PDA, usually holding your hand and dragging you along with him. He'll occasionally tease and embarrass you in public though, most of the time it isn't intentional
"(Y/NNNNN) :( can we please go to that bakeshop !"
"we were just at one. Besides, you still have that cake to finish at home."
"..."
"WHAT THE- GET OFF MY BACK YOU CRAZY MAN-"
"LETS GO TO THE BAKESHOP THEN-"
Ranpo is a BIG cuddle bug! He loves being little spoon especially. Just laying on top of your chest or besides you as you caress his hair and kiss his forehead
He'll melt from your touch
He's a baby
Ranpo doesn't usually get jealous. It's a rare thing actually, he's a chill guy and just uses his deduction to know you love him 110%
He's probably gotten used to Dazai flirting with you, before you two got together, that he's unbothered by other people
TXT: "Ranpo ! Some guy is flirting with me !"
TXT: "👍"
TXT: "do you not care that someone is trying to get with me?"
TXT: "woah there. FIRST OF ALL☝️ I've already deducted that you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. You care to much. SECOND OF ALL☝️ I've also deduced that he's drunk"
TXT: "I'll go buy you some ice cream now..(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)"
TXT: "👍"
...
TXT: "ily"
TXT: "I love you too(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡"
I feel like Ranpo isn't good with feelings and his words. When he notices that you're angry or upset, he'll kind of just be lost on what to do to cheer you up
He'll make some unhelpful comments here and there, trying to cheer you up and joke around... But then it might piss you off a little more
HE'S TRYING(⁠。⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠。⁠)
He's bad at reading emotions, and when he does understand he'll share his snacks and keep quiet...
His love language is: words of affirmation and physical touch
He's not one to use pet names, just usually call you by his own nickname for you and that's it. Occasionally he'll call you his 'favorite assistant' or his 'watson'
Ranpo gets a boost in his confidence whenever you praise him. You and Fukuzawa are definitely the most important people in his lives, meaning your words mean SO MUCH to him
If you're the type to like cooking and cleaning, you've won him over. He hates chores and loves just sitting around and eating snacks
If you feed him as he sits or lays on your lap he'll literally die a happy man
❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥
【NSFW】
Ranpo is a switch, but definitely leans towards a bottom more
He'll be a very loud person in bed when you're on top of him.
If you tease him and poke at his sensitive parts, Ranpo will get flustered. You will catch him blushing and trying to keep quiet, just poke at him some more
Of course, don't be mean to him though. He only likes it when you praise him for doing good, because he's very inexperienced.
Ranpo is good at giving oral, he knows how to read you and where you like to be touched the most
Whenever Ranpo has a rough day, he'll either want you to ride him to make him feel better or he'd want to eat you out
"Mmmm... You look so good riding me like that,"
"just like that, Aah~"
"Love, I'm gonna- A-Ah"
He's noisy, but you can shut him upಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ
Ranpo doesn't have that strong of a sexual desire. Sex isn't the most important thing to him. it's you🫵
If you ask him enough, praise him all day, and have a little teasing at eachother, maybe your lucky enough to walk home with him pulling you into the bed(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)
His favorite positions are cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, anything with you taking control
He's very lazy and will let you do most of the work
Ranpo actually doesn't have any kinks, and I know a lot of you will be like "no he'd have a praise kink☝️" but I'm sorry to say that, Ranpo would 100% find the idea of kinks disgusting
LIKE I KNOW. I can see him having a praise kink too but it just fits so well for him to find 'kinks' disgusting
He doesn't like using toys either. Well, specifically for himself
If he feels like teasing you and edging you on, expect him to be using a vibrator on you and moving it around to get you moaning, but that's it really
If you're a easily-embarrassed or awkward and shy person, he'll definitely tease and mess with you when he's taking the lead
He's definitely had you doing things with him in the office and after you're finished you'll be like, "did... Did that really just happen?🧍‍♀️"
"Ranpo, the others are gonna be back any moment, please let's just finish at home.."
"Mmm, not a chance... Now, if you're so worried about it, you better start moving faster for me, sweet one.." he spoke, his hand on your ass as he straddled you on his lap as he sucked on a lollipop, his eyes were on yours. His other hand moved up your back and caressed your body.
How did you ever get dragged into this with him? Oh wait. It's Ranpo.
Ranpo loves face sitting
He'll eat you out like a unspoken religion, digging his teeth into your inner thighs just to hear your sweet noises as he knows he's doing good
He also loves it when you leave lipstick kisses all over him
YOU'LL LITERALLY MAKE HIM ALL NERVOUS AND BLUSHING. He'll be at a loss for words and start to ignore all eye contact
༻༺━━━━⁎∗.*.∗⁎━━━━༻༺
REQUESTS - I am accepting any requests for any character for the following fandoms:
Bungo Stray Dogs, Genshin Impact, Danganronpa, Ninjago, Southpark, Obey Me, 7 Deadly Sins, Tokyo Revengers, Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss, Death Note, Walking Dead, Demon Slayer, Assassination Classroom, Hunter X Hunter, Komi Can't Communicate, Diabolik Lovers and Doki Doki Literature Club
I will write any of the following: smut (all characters WILL be aged up), fluff, crack/joke, specific plot, angst, HC's, BL, GL
Do not expect me to write any of the following: intense gore scene, sexual themes that are disturbing to most people and anything that will get me banned for a specific and obvious reason.
I accept requests for any character from any of the fandoms I have named :)
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adventuringblind · 10 months
Text
If You Don't Want the Truth, then Don't Ask
Oscar Piastri x Autistic!Reader
Genre: fluff
Request: kinda...? People want more of this content, so who am I to deny them? My requests are open! Please don't hesitate to send me ideas!
Summary: One thing that Oscar loves most about her is that she's always honest. Unfortunately, it seems not everyone has learned that.
Warnings: Media being toxic, the reader gets frustrated at not understanding human behavior
Notes: written in third person
Masterlist
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Oscar had fallen in love with her honesty. He never had to guess at her opinions on things or dance around subjects himself.
It was a reprieve from always being coached in media to finally not having to filter himself.
Anyone who had gotten close to her knew one rule she had: if you don't want an honest answer, then don't ask.
She struggles communicating with vocal tones. People often mistake her opinion for being judgemental. It makes her feel unable to speak up for herself. It was never her intention to cause problems. She was just saying her truth.
Emotional communication is even more difficult. She always manages to say the wrong thing. Oscar didn't believe this and felt comforted when she talked him through the truth of the day. But if she was struggling with words and emotions, she opted to communicate via physical touch.
She'd developed a code for human behaviors she didn't quite understand.
When charles was upset about a race, she hugged him. When Oscar was smiling, she kissed his cheek. When Max was being lectured by his father, she stuck her middle finger up at Jos. When Lando couldn't eat his food, she gave him one of her snacks that he also liked.
It became more natural to the grid the more she did these things.
Unfortunately for the fans and the media, they hadn't figured it out. It was ridiculous in everyone's minds how they never learned their lesson.
A picture started circling the internet once of her kissing Lando's cheek after an amazing race. She knew it was a happy moment but was too overwhelmed to deal with words. Oscar knew she did this to anyone she was comfortable with and knew she was loyal. She'd expressed repeatedly why she loved him and not Lando. Oscar only laughed as she went down her very pointed list of reasons why Oscar was better. Earning a pout from the Brit.
The fans started calling her all sorts of nasty names. It hurt her a little, but Oscar even more. He'd expressed multiple times to his fans not to involve her in drama.
Race weekend got a bit awkward. Journalists wanted to ask the two questions. Oscar was quick to deny them attention and left for free practice.
The nerospicy femal, however, was not as lucky. Somone found her hiding in the garage.
"Are you aware of the photo going around social media right now?" The female reporter asked her.
She hesitated for a moment, trying to find her voice. "Yes." The reporter waited a minute for her to elaborate only to receive silence.
She clears her throat. "Do you have any thoughts about it? Are the rumors true?"
She stares again for a moment. "I think you people are bored and want to pick apart someone else's life instead of your own."
It was the reporters turn to stay in silence. "That may be true for some." She fumbles. "But the concern of the fans is that you'll have a negative effect on the McLaren racing drivers."
"I think the fans you speak of are niave then. Not every human being is the same. I'm in love with Oscar, not Lando, as simple as that. Just because my affection looks different doesn't mean I'm doing anything wrong." The girl shrugs her shoulders. Simply stating a fact of herself.
The reporter leaves in silence. No other words were shared between them.
Oscar saw the article the next day. They were getting ready to head to the track for FP3 and qualifying. "Have you seen this article?" He asked.
"No, what article?" Oscar flips his phone to her. The reporter from yesterday had written an article about their conversation. Interestingly enough, it was exactly what she had said. The journalist was impressed with her honesty and approach to toxic rumors.
Oscar kissed her cheek. "I'm so proud of you."
~
The next time it happened was during an interview in the fan zone. She'd been standing off to the side with the other McLaren staff who follow them around. She likes listening to the fans ask the boys questions.
Then a fan asked a question about her. "Oscar, why is your girlfriend mean to the reporters?"
Both Oscar and Lando rolled their eyes. "She's here right now if you want an honest answer." Oscar smirked.
It was terrifying when Oscar and Lando were waving her up to the stage. She waited for the approval of the staff and security before exchanging seats with the Australian.
He looked so please she was up there. "The fans want to know why you're so 'mean' to the reporters, as they put it." The two boys were laughing hysterically now.
"I personally don't think it's mean. If they don't want an honest answer, then they shouldn't be asking questions." She shrugged. "Is there a specific time you're referring too?"
"When the vouge journalists asked if you were hiding something because you wear loose clothing."
Lando perked up instantly. "This is one of my favorite moments. We went out and got her favorite dinner after this to celebrate."
"Firtly, the reporter had no business asking that. I don't like it when my clothes feel weird and I was already overwhelmed so I wore what I thought was comfortable." Oscar put his arm around her. A hint of pride edging its way across his features. "Secondly, the didn't put the whole story. The reporter asked if I was pregnant, and then when I said no, he proceeded to ask me if I was wearing anything underneath."
"The comeback is the best part."
"I was confused why he asked me this, so I asked if he had anything underneath the hideous mask he was wearing. Then he called me rude." She frowned, but the fans were enjoying the story.
Oscar glances at Lando. "You should tell the next part."
Lando is still chuckling from the last statement. "I was coming around the corner and heard her say that, then I couldn't stop laughing. So obviously I joined in as well."
The other two were shaking their heads at Lando in exasperation as he continued. "When I came up next to her, she asked why he would ask something like that. It's a pretty common question between us, so I explained why he did it and why he shouldn't do it."
"Then he insulted him some more."
Oscar finishes out the story and also laughs at this point. "Most of the things in the article were what Lando said. The others were what she did say. Including asking if this was his way of flirting and turned him down on his advances."
She always missed social cues, and she'd heard some of the drivers flirt by asking what someone had on underneath their clothing. It was a genuine assumption.
Oscar found it most amusing as Lando recounted the story for the first time that evening. She had looked mildly dazed, frustrated, and confused. Oscar took the time, in between laughing, to explain some of the nuances she didn't understand. Including why they were laughing so hard.
~
Next came a conversation with Zak.
The boys were doing media things, so he'd started to try and make conversation with her.
He was a person who did not understand that she's autistic and communicates different then he was expecting. Normally, Oscar or Lando was here to help things flow, but now she was going to need to swim on her own.
"Have you been enjoying Monaco?" He asked.
She played with her fingers to help her brain stay present. Something she often did to stim when she didn't want it to be noticeable. "It's cozy when it's not race weekend. I think the race has made it crowded."
He looked a little surprised. "Do you not like crowds? I thought you did since you come to most of the races."
"Seeing them is fine. Being trapped in them is difficult."
"That's a little odd of a perspective, don't you think?" He laughed. "I feel like you either enjoy the crowds or you hate them."
She didn't understand what he meant by that. Didn't she just say what she thought? Why was he asking the same question? "Factually, I think you can enjoy seeing a crowd, like on TV, and also become claustrophobic when in one."
He didn't know how to respond. The staring became awkward for him as he tried to respond. She just waited. Assuming he had now understood her point. Then he came up with an excuse as to why he needed to duck out of the conversation.
Zak asked Oscar about it later. To which the Australian internally face-palmed. Then, he proceeded to explain the unspoken role.
Zak apologized the next day if he made her uncomfortable. She just looked between him and Oscar. Hoping for an answer as to how he could've done that.
It took a while, but they finally got their. Now Zak goes to her if he ever wants an honest opinion on something.
~
The most recent time actually hurt her. She spent days inside her and Oscar's room. Struggling to eat, sleep, and communicate.
She was lucky that Oscar was around to help her through this. His frustration almost overwhelming his own mind.
Two weeks ago, they had been in Silverstone. It was an amazing race, and she felt happy that she got to share it with him.
She had been making friends with the other WAG's around the paddock. So when Oscar was pulled away, she went to find someone to hang out with until they finished.
She found Kika and Lily in the Williams hospitality. It was warm in the building, so when she sat down with them, she decided to get comfortable and took off her sweatshirt.
Her shirt that day was not the usual baggy t-shirt and jeans. Today's she was wearing a crop-top that showed her stomach, but she felt cute and confident, and Oscar complimented her on it the entire morning. He said she looked good when she's comfortable and that's what matters to him.
Her body was not the ideal body type that meets the standard beauty criteria. Frankly, she didn't care.
She's healthy. She's comfortable. Oscar has said daily that he loves her as she is.
She wasn't expecting the fans in hospitality to ask her anything about it.
When she got up to get water, a few young women approached her. This had happened before, and she assumed they wanted to ask about Oscar or know of they could get a picture with him.
She assumed wrong.
"How come you're not wearing what you normally do?"
"Because I felt comfortable in this today."
"I think the other style suits you better. Don't you think?"
"I don't have a style. This is just comfortable."
"Is this because Oscar likes it better?"
"No, he likes it when I'm comfortable."
She was trying to keep up. All the questions flying at her rapidly. The music was reverberating off the wall. The hospitality staff were cleaning and packing.
Her head started to spin. Her hands flew up to cover her ears. She was going to cry if she didn't get out.
She was thankful the Kika and Lily noticed and got her out of the area. Blocking anyone from speaking to her and ignoring those who tried to stop them.
They ran into Oscar on the way to somewhere quiet. He immediately placed his hands over hers to try and help block out more sound until he could get her to her headphones.
Kika and Lily explained what happened. The females asking her questions were not understanding why she was giving them the same answer. Their intentions were unknown, but it was obvious she looked uncomfortable and cornered in that moment.
So he led her away into his driver room and told her she could lock the door and he'd come get her when it was time to leave. She obliged, turning off the lights to help her senses.
She curled up in the corner and soothed herself until Oscar came back.
Someone had taken a video of the encounter, and people started asking questions about her. Why does she do the things she does? It didn't make any sense to them. It made her frustrated because they made her out to be an alien on her own planet.
Her body couldn't take it anymore. She stayed in her corner with the lights off and shut out the world.
Except for Oscar. He sat in the dark with her. They ate meals on the floor. He helped her bathe in the dark. She felt so lucky to have found someone who understands and cares as much as he does.
His PR team was trying to do something about the video. It wasn't right for it to be posted, and McLaren was doing what they could, but It wasn't enough.
So Oscar took matters into his own hands. He decided to answer all their questions. With her permission, of course.
She cried when she read it. He was happy that she felt safe enough with him to let herself unmask, but he wanted her to be able to unmask anywhere. They were taking a step in the right direction, and they both ate comfort food that night.
Instagram story message because idk how people do SMAU's: "I want to take a minute to address the video that was posted about my girlfriend recently. My girlfriend is Autistic, meaning that things can become overwhelming easily. You might not understand everything she does, but you don't have to. She is her own person and has her own life. What she answers to questions is her truth. If you don't want an honest answer, don't ask the question.
-Oscar
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kalena-henden · 8 months
Text
Destined With You has me intrigued. There are things I like about it (mostly Rowoon and the mystery), things that annoy me (the bad co-workers), and things that confuse me. After 4 episodes, I finally feel like I'm starting to understand what the writer is trying to do.
However, Netflix strikes again with a generic drama title that is very confusing and doesn't capture the depth or meaning of the Korean title in the slightest. (Thank goodness Viki got Doom at Your Service first cause that title is fire, even if it's not literal. I'm still shaking my fist at Netflix naming very accurate Korean title, Forest of Secrets, the boring and bland non-specific Stranger. Just why?!)
The Korean title is 이 연애는 불가항력.
The first part 이 연애는 means 'this love'. But the final word is the Korean translation of the French law terminology 'force majeure' (aka major force) which they translate as 'irresistible force'. It's a clause that is commonly used in contracts that negates some or all of the terms of a contract when an 'act of God' occurs, like a natural disaster, which would make one or both parties unable to fulfill their responsibilities. This is interesting as it gives the real title multiple meanings.
The most literal translation would be 'This Love is a Force Majeure' referencing Shinyu's profession and him being a stickler for adhering exactly to the contract terms, including verbal contracts like the ones he has with the Hongjo.
The next translation is 'This Love is an Irresistible Force' which implies that this love is almost against their will. They can't help but fall for each other. Currently, we have a quite literal interpretation of this with Shinyu accidentally drinking the love potion and now having unwanted thoughts and emotions regarding Hongjo.
Another potential translation extrapolated out of force majeure is 'This Love is an Act of God'. This implies this love is outside of human control, like destiny created by God or gods, depending on your religion. This is where I think Netflix got their generic 'destined' title. Unfortunately that 'destined' title completely negates that this writer has our leads intentionally playing with words. Not only on a banter level but also testing the letter of the law with their verbal contracts, some which are intentionally made and others they've made unknowingly. Words carry weight in this drama; not just through their emotion or meaning but in a magically binding way.
What if casting the spells isn't enough to activate them? What if the spells need words of intent to activate them?
Even though Hongjo doesn't believe it yet, she is a shaman or witch. Her words alone opened the lock on the box that held the spell book. They weren't just any words; they were words that had deep intention attached to them. After day dreaming her crush was there for her in a time of need when she was home alone, she half pleads, 'Please, can you come?' A few days later, Jaekyung has moved into the first floor of the house she rents.
When Shinyu drinks the Love Potion, nothing happens. He treats her the same way he's been treating her when she barges into his office to try to take care of the person who ran into the flowered-potted median. Any discomfort he's showing can be attributed to the fact that he is the culprit who ruined the median she is ranting over. It does however remind him how dangerous his illness has become triggering his urgency to cast the Disease Curing Spell as soon as possible. It's not until after he sees that the Love Spell is missing from the book and tells her, 'Because if you get a boyfriend, it's thanks to me.' that he has his first heart-fluttering sign of love when she tries take the book from him. He doesn't seem to have any moral issues with her using the love spell and is even trying to take credit for it since he gave her the box. After he discovers that he mistakingly drank the love potion, he's only upset that he's the one who drank it instead of her intended target. But what if drinking the love potion wasn't enough? What if it needed to be activated by his words of intention? His intention was for her to get a boyfriend.
Old Shaman to Shinyu: 'You killed her. The owner of the bloody hand that caresses your cheek. Karma will swallow you and you will struggle in horrible pain. But all the pain and curses will end. Finally, the owner of the wooden box showed up.'
Now back to our title, 'This Love is a Force Majeure'. The longstanding family curse appears to have been caused by Shinyu killing someone in his past life and curses can be considered a contract that binds people to their bad fate. If a contract is made in perpetuity, maybe the only way out is a force majeure happening. Note that 'will swallow' and 'will struggle' are future tense, they hadn't happened yet. Karma definitely seemed to swallow him whole when he unknowingly drank the love potion. It's also interesting she said he will struggle in horrible pain. We've seen him in physical pain due to the curse, but what if mental and emotional pain are added on top of this due to the love potion. The majority of this show will likely be showing him struggling through these trials as he unpacks his past life to save his future. (Hopefully... *crosses fingers and side-eyes Heartbeat*)
It's unlikely that the Disease Curing Spell is enough. It might be able to cure him of the disease but only once the magical curse has been lifted. So both spells always needed to be cast in tandem to break his curse. It's not a coincidence that Shinyu was in extreme distress when he ran into the median that Hongjo had planted the flowers on at the exact same moment she was casting the Love Spell. It caused a ripple in their fate. The beginning jumpstart of their love which needs to grow strong enough to cause a force majeure to break the curse or curses. Since Hongjo may not just be lonely, but cursed with loneliness. The signs are there. Her family is all dead. She doesn't have a boyfriend. She doesn't seem to have close friends even though she's quite friendly. Shinyu suggested that she's the reason she is alone. The Old Shaman also pointedly laments that her god wouldn't allow her to be in a relationship. This story becomes richer if Hongjo has a bad fate to overcome for herself, not just to help the male lead overcome his, but one that must be overcome together.
I'll end this with a little poetic fun from Google translate and deleting the last Korean word in the title one syllable at a time.
이 연애는 불가항력 - this love is irresistible
이 연애는 불가항 - this love is inevitable
이 연애는 불가 - this love is impossible
이 연애는 불 - this love is fire
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swanimagines · 3 months
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MELODY OF THE NIGHT | MORPHEUS
Summary: You've been distancing yourself from Morpheus, because you know he's an Endless and can't be romantically involved with humans, but you can't bear being with him while knowing you can't have him. He comes over to your house and demands to know what's the matter. It ends unexpectedly.
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It had been weeks. You had known it was forbidden for Endless to be romantically involved with mortals, but your stupid heart had still developed feelings for him. It had been too painful to endure, so you willed yourself not to visit The Dreaming anymore, and avoided Morpheus in your dreams as well - not that you actually had the power to do that, but Morpheus knew when someone didn't want him to appear so he didn't.
When your doorbell had rang, you had to admit that you hadn't expected who was on the other side of the door, even when it should have been obvious. Morpheus stood there, looking as gorgeous as always. Compared to you - messy hair, looking like you didn't sleep properly, in your t-shirt and sweatpants.
"Hi, um... sorry, I'm kind of busy here," you mumbled to him, not really even looking at him.
Morpheus sighed, clearly knowing it was a lie. "May I come in?"
It wasn't really a question, but you still nodded. He came into your apartment and closed the door behind himself. You tapped your tea mug nervously as you stood in front of him. You didn't know what to say to him, really. You were embarrassed, angry, and frustrated all at once. Your emotions made you feel out of control, which in turn only increased your frustration and your embarrassment.
"I do not understand why you will not talk to me," Morpheus said, his voice soft. He looked hurt, or maybe just disappointed.
His words hit you like a hammer. You took a deep breath. "Because I... I just... I can't visit you anymore."
He frowned. "Why?"
"I don't want to talk about it." you replied quickly. If you told him, you knew he'd sigh and explain what could happen. He would also say he doesn't love you back.
This time, Morpheus didn't press any further, but he did look upset. He stayed silent after that for several minutes. Eventually, he spoke again. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No!" you exclaimed. You shook your head, trying to get some of your thoughts together. "No, it's... it's me."
Morpheus moved closer to you. "Then why..."
"Just leave me alone," you snapped. "I told you I don't want to talk about it, and I mean it."
"But-" he started, but you cut him off.
"Dream, please, stop," you pleaded. "You've already caused enough trouble by showing up here. Just go away."
"I do not understand," he whispered. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened," you muttered. "And I can't let anything to happen, I can't control... just leave me alone."
Morpheus seemed truly confused now. He didn't seem angry, though, and he didn't argue. He just continued to stare at you, his expression unreadable. "You are one of the first humans I consider a friend. I need to know-"
Next thing you didn't even think about doing. Your feelings just rushed forward, spilling over and you grabbed his coat and tugged him close and pressed your lips against his.
Morpheus froze, just as you had expected and you pulled back before he had a chance to, breaking off the kiss. You stared into his eyes, panting slightly. "This is why I've been avoiding you," your voice broke mid-sentence, tears now cascading over your cheeks. "I know it's wrong, we can't be together."
"What?" Morpheus asked, bewildered.
"I love you," you admitted. It felt like the hardest sentence you ever uttered. "I can't keep it in, I just keep thinking about how I want to wake up with you, and I dream about you all the time, and I hate myself for feeling this way. I ruined our friendship the moment I developed those feelings for you, and I'm sorry, but I can't stop loving you, and I can't bear to see your disappointment in me."
Morpheus stared at you for a long moment, watching you sniffling in front of him, before you felt a hand sliding down your cheek and wiping away your tears. "Where did you hear we could not be together?" he asked, gently.
"I... I found it in a book. You had fallen in love with a woman named Nada and the Sun punished her for it."
Morpheus was quiet as he thought about that. "It is true," he then said. "But rules have changed since then. You are not allowed to rule The Dreaming with me or marry me until you are dead, but I am allowed to love you."
His words echoed in your head for a moment before you registered them, and looked up at him. "What?"
"I have loved you ever since we first met," he explained. "I cannot help it. I will never stop. Even if you stop talking to me, even if you stop visiting me, I will always love you. I needed to know if I can fix our friendship, but I did not know you feel the same way about me, and that is why you stopped visiting me."
You blinked at him, almost thinking this was a dream... or at least a daydream. But it felt too real to be one - and in dreams, you knew Morpheus would be controlling what he'd say."
"So you love me?" you asked hesitantly.
Morpheus nodded. "Yes. Yes, I do love you."
You stared at him for a few moments longer, unsure what to say, before you felt your lips growing into a wide smile. "Well, I love you too," you said, pressing another kiss on his lips, and this time, he returned it.
And on that moment, you knew it - this was going to work. Even though it was a risk to love him, you were willing to take it - because you believed he deserved your love more than anyone else in the world.
---
Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)
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esamastation · 9 months
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lil bit of AC x Temeraire
"Translation error," is Clay's verdict.
"Translation error," Desmond repeats dubiously, staring down at him.
"Yes."
"Uh-huh. And that means what, exactly?"
So many things that he doesn't understand, it turns out. Stuff like how Animus code works and how badly it was originally designed, Abstergo trying to derive from the First Civilisation's work and how it was bungled up. Add into the mix human DNA - Clay's - being translated into Animus simulation which was then translated into whatever the Grand Temple had going on for itself which was then translated yet again into the background processing of the universe, plus the delightfully unstable addition of stray thoughts and the fact that Desmond has slight Piece of Eden infection and apparently the placebo effect is actual fucking magic -
"What?" Desmond asks helplessly.
"Stalk it up as a glitch in the Matrix, times a thousand," Clay concludes. "And don't worry about it."
"Um. No, I don't think I can," Desmond says, emphatically, and motions at him. "Clay, you're a dragon."
Clay looks down at himself, at his sinuous body of pale gold and burnished bronze. He's not a very big dragon, about the size of a big dog maybe, but he's still very clearly a dragon. Wings and tail and talons and all.
Clay looks up at him, and his voice is sardonic. "Wow, your Eagle Vision must be levelling up, Desmond, your observational abilities are off the charts!"
Desmond folds his arms. "I'm also observing that there's something wrong with the Grand Temple," he says flatly.
Clay swings his long necked head around this way and that, taking in the ancient volcanic cave around them. "Looks the same to me."
"All our stuff is gone, Clay. And I seem to recall that part having collapsed. It looks pretty uncollapsed to me. Also, the barrier is up again," Desmond points at the glowing Isu-tech barrier between them and the device Desmond is pretty sure he just activated. "Are you seeing the barrier, Clay, the barrier I spent the last week's of my life opening?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Seventeen, you're not dead yet."
"Clay," Desmond says, even flatter.
The dragon blows out an acrid smelling breath. "Okay, fine, I did maybe attempt a little bit of time travel," he says defensively. "You would've too if you realised what the Grand Temple could really do!"
"Which is… time travel?"
"Pretty much anything that your little mind can come up with, actually."
Desmond gives him another one over and folds his arms. "Like turning you into a dragon."
"Manipulating probabilities is one hell of a thing," Clay agrees and nudges his side with his nose. Snout? "But the dragon bit is definitely a translation error. I was trying to recode myself into an Isu," he adds, very quickly under his breath. "Not a winged reptile with an upset stomach."
"You - what?"
Clay avoids looking him in the eye and huffs out an embarrassed breath. "Also you're not dead. You're welcome for not being dead," he says pointedly.
Desmond stares at him for a long moment before letting out a sigh and letting it go. "Thanks. You have an upset stomach?" he then asks.
"It kinda hurts, yeah," Clay murmurs, shifting his weight a little, and just then there's an audible gurgle from somewhere within him, his draconic belly rumbling.
Desmond lets his hands drop to his sides. "You're hungry?" he asks incredulously.
"I haven't eaten anything in almost a year, Desmond, have some sympathy."
"Yeah, well, you were dead," Desmond says, making a face, and then hesitates. "I should be dead."
"That's what Juno wanted to happen anyway," Clay agrees and unfurls his wings tentatively. "Again you're welcome."
"Right. You… saved me. And brought us back in time," Desmond says slowly and frowns  "When exactly are we?"
Clay spreads out his wings and shakes himself. "If I didn't mess up the calculations, maybe two hundred years back in time."
"Uh. Why two hundred years?"
"It's enough time to fast forward industrial revolution without breaking history too badly," Clay says almost flippantly and gives him a look. "And all your major ancestors have procreated and died and so if we mess up time, there's still a good chance you will be born."
Desmond blinks. "That's," he starts to say and then isn't entirely sure how to continue. It's not exactly comforting, not exactly worrisome. It's something in between with a little bit of existential horror thrown in. "Okay," he settles on saying, feebly. "And what are we going to do? Just cause an early industrial revolution?"
"That and some other things. I have some plans," Clay says, not quite modestly.
Desmond isn't exactly reassured by his tone. "And how does becoming a dragon feature in those plans?"
Clay hesitates and looks down at himself, shifting his weight on his taloned claws. "Well," he says and his stomach grumbles again. "I think it might change the first step. Get food, instead of find riches. Do you think we could get some food? I'm really hungry, Desmond. You know how to hunt, right?"
Desmond eyes him for a moment and then hums. "I know how to hunt, yeah," he says slowly and looks away, towards the entrance to the Temple. Or rather the exit from their point of view. "But, uh."
"What?"
"You know, we needed Minerva's Apple to get in here. The door was pretty well shut - and had been for tens of thousands of years." Desmond points out and nods at the sloping cave, leading away from them. "How do you suppose we're going to get out?" 
Clay stills and then tucks his wings back in. "Oh," he says.
"Yeah. Oh."
-
What if Travel Winds but with Clay and more crack?
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queenofapeacefuldawn · 4 months
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SPY × Family: Chapter 93 analysis
this is my first time doing something like this, and I'm no expert so please take my analysis with a grain of salt! all of this is my own theories, so you might disagree with me. please don't be mean, though (also, long post incoming!)
SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 93 UNDER THE CUT
The chapter opens with the Eden kids getting the results of their marks, with Anya's...
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overall rank shooting up, from 213th to 168th. Showing how she's slowly adjusting to the school and its pace of learning, despite being younger than everyone else (and, also, presumably doing extremely advanced things.... I remember seeing the pythagorean theorem on the board once in the anime)
Damian got highest in History (good job, buddy!), and Anya got second-highest in Classical Language (the one exam she genuinely studied hard for). But what I want to focus on is her expression:
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Shock. She'd put up that front (that fake-face, if you will) in front of Becky, Damian, Emile and Ewen, pretending to be all cool and suave but when she sees her results, she's genuinely surprised to get good marks in Classical Language. And even her excited reaction. She was scared of disappointing Twilight (and maybe even Sigmund and Barbara) because she'd genuinely worked hard for this exam, tried to understand, and gave it her best attempt.
But, then, it all comes crashing down with her 24 points in math: but a win is a win!
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Maybe this is Twilight's turning point in the fact that acquiring knowledge can be interesting, exciting, and not just a tool of survival? Twilight himself doesn't have a great relationship with studying, (see: his father scolding him as a child for not studying, later: his friends dying because he didn't know enough about the campaign they were going on... but Twilight's relationship with knowledge and its pursuit is a whole other post in itself).
Honestly, him realising that Anya is actually thriving in the setup where education is fun for her, opens up two new avenues:
Twilight himself trying to make learning fun for Anya (unlikely, he tried that before... it didn't work.)
Him leaning on Sigmund and Barbara to tutor Anya (this seems more likely- Endo is probably going to cement the Authens as recurring characters, so them being Anya's surrogate grandparents/neighbors/tutors would seem like a great way to do so!
And then...
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My main focus is on the fact that he mumbles this (also his face. But that's irrelevant). Twilight may claim, "I don't understand children", but he's an extremely perceptive man. As much as I love to clown on him, he's highly skilled at picking up on cues of people's feelings. The few times he's failed are mostly due to Anya's shenanigans trying to hide her telepathy, mixed with his usual flavour of overthinking.
But the couple of things he knows about Anya are this:
She was probably raised in an environment where Classical Language was used.
She's not fond of talking about or remembering her past.
Which is why he didn't have the heart to fully sound out the question. In the case of Anya, this is an extremely delicate matter, and he doesn't want to upset her (or, in his words, "ruin Operation Strix.") The way he asked the question and it's portrayed made it feel like he'd been pondering on it for quite a while (which he has; since the beginning of the Cruise Arc), but more so usually. Most likely due to her high marks in the Classical Language tests (aka a dead language), and the fact that she got excellent marks in it, despite formally studying it for less than a year (at least, as far as he (and we) know.) He's been thinking of the possibility, and also thinking of a way to ask her. In the end, when he does ask her—
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she lies.
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and he lets her. (at least, that's my interpretation)
Obviously, he knows she's not ready to speak about it yet (though we know it's probably connected to her telepathy, so she's not ready to divulge that info).
Look, as much as I love talking about how clueless he is with his own feelings, in this scene, he was just... perceptive? I don't know if that's the right word. But he was trying to keep Anya happy, and bringing up this complex topic without ensuring proper care for her wouldn't be fair to her. And he knows that. So, he leaves it at, "Just forget about it, okay?"
This entire scene felt so... tense, and in itself felt like a fucking gut punch, so I don't know how I'll react to the reveal.)
And now, onto the main focus of the chapter:
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him.
If I'm being honest, I thought Demetrius was, like, 16-19 (judging by his voice in the anime), and not... fucking twelve.
Honestly, that just makes his character all the more tragic: he's barely a teenager, and yet... he's going through this. From his awards ceremony, we can see that he got, what, 6 stellas? In addition to the eight he's gotten to be an Imperial Scholar, and if he performs this well in every exam... bro is literally hoarding the Stella supply of the school (sorry, bad joke).
But...
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this panel comes up. It's definitely not Anya's telepathy malfunctioning, (heck, it works on Bond and even penguins). Honestly, I think, again, it could be one of two things:
He was experimented on, like Anya
He was trained, (most likely by Donovan), to keep his mind blank.
We're told that he and Donovan had an extremely close relationship:
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This could be in support of both the theories: it could be Donovan checking up on his "experiment's" progress (a crude term to refer to him), or, it could have been him subconsciously training Demetrius to hide his thoughts, keep them safe. Anya's project is connected to Desmond's administration, and at the time she was "made", Demetrius would have been around 7 or 8. Old enough for him to figure out what he wanted to have been in life (ofc, that's different for everyone! It takes time, and 8 is an extremely young age to figure out what one wants to do). But, like, how Damian wants to be a politician, it's most likely that Demetrius, the prodigal, studious, first child, would have to follow the path of politics laid before him.
So it could have been Donovan teaching Demetrius to protect his sensitive thoughts from the "weapons" he himself was making: the test subject(s) of Anya's project (again, a crude term to refer to them). Donovan was putting a lot of faith into creating telepaths (most likely for covert work), and them having unwavering loyalty to his administration was not very likely.
And, even if Anya's project was the work of another administration or even country, there's no doubt that Donovan would want to keep his thoughts hidden from these kinds of spies: ones than can see into your very mind, especially if the world is at war: a physical battle or a war for information.
The first theory of Demetrius himself being a test subject is probably Not What Happened; so I think it's probably just Demetrius being trained to keep his thoughts hidden.
But then, we get some of his thoughts:
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Which is a lot reminiscent of:
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So, it's probable that Demetrius imbibed this from his dad.
It's honestly a bit scary to see how Donovan's "parenting" has affected him: for him, age 12, to be like this.
After this, the chapter ends lightheartedly: Anya trying to emulate Demetrius, and Loid Being Tired™️.
I'm mostly curious about Demetrius: I was so excited when he was finally revealed! But I hope we get to see more of his thoughts, soon. Especially more about his relationship with Damian. But, this chapter was fantastic!
(This was super fun to do- if i do posts like this for chapters as they come out, would you all like it? Again, I'm not an expert in psychology (or even analysis). It's just me and my silly lil thoughts. I hope you liked it!)
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