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link4eva · 3 years

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Kiro’s Seeking Date Translation [CN]

Hey, everyone! Just a couple of things before you begin reading. I don’t actually know any Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate. A HUGE shout-out to @keliosyfan and @cheesy09 for helping me with edits and revising. Thank you!!! 💛

Here’s a link to the date video uploaded by @keliosyfan that you can follow along with.

Also, here’s a link to the call that comes before the date.

*TW: I feel like I should note that this date has mentions of human trafficking.*

This translation contains spoilers for a date that has not yet been released to the ENG server. If you wish to not be spoiled, please don’t look below the cut.

Hope you enjoy~ 💛

*Spoilers for future content below!*

[First Part]

??: What are you doing kidnapping her, idiot?!

??: She has been with Helios for so many years, she must be his most important woman.

??: With this woman, we can make him write off his debts and also crush his spirit as a gift to those foreigners.

In the dimness, two male voices drifted into my ears.

My hands were tied behind me, and the rope bore through the cloth on my body. The rough and wet touch made me very uncomfortable.

??: If he really cared about this woman, would he always keep her by his side? Tell everyone that she is his weakness?

??: This woman is a target he bought four years ago to get rid of trash and see who in the city found him unpleasant!

Although I was very certain that these people were telling the truth, after hearing those words, my heart still couldn’t help but ache.

??: This is the end of the matter. This woman can’t stay.

??: Sooner or later, that beast Helios will know what you have done. He would never let us get away with it. *Changed some wording*

??: This person has just been taken away, and Helios won’t be so fast.

The icy sound of a knife unsheathing made me clench my teeth. My whole body shook.

The hemp rope had been cut with the blade hidden in my sleeve, and I waited for the opportunity as it gradually approached.

Even though I closed my eyes, I could always see that person’s face and a pair of indifferent blue eyes.

If I died, would he be sad?

??: Hope... is the most precious thing in this world.

??: Do you want to go with me?

I can’t die yet.

But just before I acted, someone ended up being faster than me.

With a “shink”, it seemed that a sharp weapon pierced the glass and embedded itself into the wooden board. The sudden noise made my heart constrict.

??: Don’t open your eyes.

After an extremely cold and commanding voice sounded, there were shrill screams. In the continuous plethora of sounds, there was the harsh sound of bones being twisted.

I closed my eyes and curled up tightly, worried that this was just a dream.

Until I was hugged in a strong and warm embrace, with the fragrance of smokey tobacco wrapping around me.

I opened my eyes blankly and caught sight of the silver hair that was eye-catching and dazzling in the gloomy thatched house.

Those blue eyes, which were normally calm, were now mixed with a little anger.

MC: ...Am I dreaming?

Helios: Do you often dream of me?

The man gave me a look, held me, and walked out the door. It seemed to be the warehouse of a wine shop.

(Cut to outside)

Suddenly his figure stopped, and I lowered my eyes to find that a man was holding onto his trousers tightly.

??: Mr. Helios, boss, please forgive us this time. We will soon have a big deal, and then we will be accommodated….

Helios: Is the restaurant I run like an orphanage?

Helios: Repaying debts is justified.

He turned a deaf ear to the man’s pleading and the whispers from the bystanders. He moved his long legs, and the man fell to the ground.

At the same time, a group of people began to move in and out of the store.

MC: Should I first….

Helios: Don’t move.

His voice sounded impatient. I blinked and didn’t speak anymore.

After the fight was over, Helios raised the corner of his mouth and gave a slight retort to the kneeling man.

Helios: Mr. Cao, you’re welcome to visit Spring Moon Pavillion next time.

??: You foreign devil, don’t lie! Go to hell!

The curse echoed behind us, and the sound of a solid, steady heartbeat fell upon my ears.

Here, people called him many things-- Mr. Helios, the boss, foreign devil.

No one knew his origins. There was a rumour that seemed to say he was of mixed race.

Most of the restaurants, diners and pawn shops in the city were under his name, and there were many other shady places.

Countless people ate his meals, and countless people enjoyed his turf. They were his business partners, his subordinates, and his debtors.

He was the unspoken ruler of this city.

Everyone here respected him and feared him.

MC: Are you hurt?

I felt the person stepping forward seem to pause, but it was only momentarily.

Helios: No.

I leaned into that somewhat cold embrace, and in my sorrow, it seemed to overlap with the heavy snow from four years ago.

[Second Part]

(Flashback)

I stretched my arms strenuously, trying to grab the flying photograph.

The man behind me tightened the chain on the back of my neck, leaving only the muddy photo in my blurred vision, which ended up crushed with shoe prints on the ground.

Like unforeseen freedom, it broke free, but also decayed. Like my freedom, slowly slipping away with each step.

The world was covered with a film and the insults behind me were drowned out, and only cold white noise remained.

Suddenly, a pair of delicate leather shoes stopped next to the photo, and someone picked it up in the next second.

I blinked slowly, and found an eye-catching and sharp silver light under the extremely gloomy sky.

It was like the first speck of snow that one would find stunning in the late winter, burning straight into people’s eyes, beautiful and cold.

The boy looked around the same age as me, and a pair of azure blue eyes met my own.

The biting cold caused my reaction to delay and another pair of distant and similar pupils appeared before my eyes.

But they were warmer and brighter.

??: Snap out of it!

When my consciousness was pulled back to reality by the pain, I heard screams that did not belong to me. The force that restrained me suddenly disappeared, and I fell directly to the ground.

I reluctantly raised my eyes and found that the silver-haired boy had come over at some point, twisting the man’s wrist with one hand. His gaze shifted from the photo in his hand to me.

??: Did you stay in the orphanage in the east of the city as a child?

I looked at him dumbfoundedly and lost my voice for a moment.

??: Answer me.

MC: [flustered] ….Ye-yes! I stayed there for a year.

The boy’s eyes seemed to light up for a moment because of my answer, and then became alienated in the blink of an eye.

He threw the man aside, lowered his eyes and wiped off the mud from the photo with his white sleeves, then squatted down and handed it to me.

??: I’ll only ask once.

??: Come with me?

I stared at him in a daze, and the roaring from the outside world came to an abrupt end. Only the voice of the boy in front of me and my own heartbeat could be heard.

MC: Ok.

As soon as I spoke, the boy threw a few silver bills at the man.

The heavy snow fell silently, and I was taken into his arms, like a fragmented snowflake.

The blood, water and frost all mixed together, and I heard his voice in the dizziness.

??: Starting today, you are mine.

??: My name is Helios.

??: But I don’t like this name, so don’t call me that.

MC: My name is MC….Then um….what should I call you?

His attitude left me a little perplexed.

Helios: If you have something to say, I will acknowledge it.

Helios: Is that photo important?

In the heavy snow on the quiet road, I lifted my head laboriously, trying to muster a smile.

MC: [smiling affectionately] Very important. He was my best friend in the orphanage and a big star in the city.

MC: Everyone loved to hear him sing. He never cared about who his audience was; he shined nonetheless.

MC: It’s just… He went abroad six months ago, so he must be an even better person now.

The boy’s footsteps froze for a moment as if his feet were bound in ice and snow.

Helios: He’s just an actor.

Helios: A useless profession.

MC: But….it was his smile that gave me strength.

Without him, I would not have been able to hold on till the day I met you.

(End of flashback)

I opened my eyes and turned my head to see Helios sitting on the sofa, casually reading the newspaper. As usual, he should be in the restaurant at this time.

Looking at his profile, the dream I had just now made me a little confused.

It turned out that I had stayed by his side for so long.

He took me back to the small restaurant, healed my injuries and taught me all kinds of things.

Literacy, singing, dancing, medical skills, business….

He was the most ruthless and sharp blade. I had witnessed how he, with his own power, had expanded this small restaurant to its current size in just a few years.

Helios: Get up and eat if you’re awake.

The sudden words interrupted my thoughts. Helios didn’t look up as he slowly took a sip of tea from his teacup. Seeing him frown, I immediately got up from the bed.

The food had been arranged on the wooden table, the temperature just right; neither too hot nor too cold--

Obviously, the people who prepared this had carefully taken time into consideration.

I looked at the man sitting aside from the sidelines and saw the teacup he put aside. I was a little puzzled.

MC: Is that pot of tea not brewed?

Helios: It’s poisoned.

Helios: Tastes terrible.

I almost choked on the spring rolls in my mouth and sighed inwardly at his calm demeanour.

I went up to the cabinet, skillfully took out the bottle of medicine and poured out a pill. I walked up to him and handed it over.

Helios: I won’t die.

After hearing the expected answer, I picked up the pill and brought it to his mouth.

He didn’t open his mouth but stared at me coldly.

MC: You don’t need to stare at me. I’m not afraid of you.

With that said, I continued to pry open his mouth with the pill.

Probably moved by my fearlessness, his mouth finally opened slowly and swallowed the pill.

I smiled with satisfaction and when I turned around to continue enjoying my spring rolls, a pair of cool palms swept over my waist.

The incense stick burned quietly, and a small sigh and familiar body temperature covered me closely from behind.

Helios: Don’t you blame me for using you as bait?

He closed his eyes. His long eyelashes were covered with sunlight and his brows were furrowed.

MC: You taught me that there is no meaningless business in this world.

MC: You bought me. My life is yours.

Helios: That’s the spirit.

The person behind slowly opened his eyes, his pupils full of jest and scrutiny.

MC: Today I just wanted to go to the temple to ask for a peace charm like in previous years.

MC: I was going to go there by myself, but I didn’t want to cause you trouble.

He probably didn’t believe me. Even so, I explained it word by word.

A cool finger stroked my neck and entangled a few strands of my hair.

Helios: How many years have you been with me?

His sudden question had me stunned for a moment.

MC: ….Three years and two hundred and seventy-five days.

Helios: It’s three years and two hundred and seventy-six days.*

*This is a little Easter egg that @keliosyfan spotted. “When Helios asked MC how long she has been with him, she says "3 years, 275 days" but he corrects her saying "3 years, 276 days". If you put the numbers together you get 3276 which in CN numeric slang means "love Qiluo(Kiro) for life" or "生爱棋洛"So in a way, he wants MC to say "I love Kiro for life"(3276/生爱棋洛). 🥺😭🤧”

Although his voice was faint, it was conclusive.

I thought about it and didn’t argue with him. For me, there was no difference between one more day and one less day.

Helios: Want to leave?

MC: ….?

He laughed suddenly, but only slightly mocking this time.

Helios: I can teach you enough to live a better life.

After that, he stood up. The sudden drop in temperature made me feel a little cold in this midsummer weather.

Helios: Since you want to leave, I won’t stop you.

Helios: But leave before the seventh day of July.

[Third Part]

Helios left after saying this, leaving me alone in the room in a daze.

Compared to his sudden expulsion, I was more concerned about another thing.

The seventh day of July.

What was going to happen on that day?

The annexed restaurants, and suppressed merchants….I know what Helios has been doing for several years.

Would my existence cause him any trouble?

I looked at my bare wrists and couldn’t help laughing at myself.

Maybe I was locked in place by a pair of invisible shackles.

I pursed my lips and walked to the closet to take out the bag hidden in its depths. Perhaps it was just my illusion, but it seemed to have been turned over by someone.

(Outside of room)

Outside the dark room, late at night, I tiptoed over with my bag. There were faint sounds of firm punching and kicking coming from inside the room.

Helios stayed alone here every night, not letting anyone come close.

But this was my hidden secret, and I could secretly monopolize Helios at this moment.

As usual, I opened the window a crack.

In the room, Helios was half-naked, and the small old silver locket hung with silver bells, reflecting sharp lines of bright silver light in the cold moonlight.

His movements were swift and fierce, harder than usual as if he was venting out something.

His wet hair was weighed down, and sweat dripped slowly from his lower jaw and down his strong and undulating chest.

He stood at the junction of light and shadow, with most of his face hidden in the darkness.

The sound of cicadas in midsummer made people feel a little restless, and the silver locket on his chest heaved slightly as he panted hard.

Helios stood there and didn’t move. I don’t know what he was waiting for. *The music from the first Valentine’s Day event starts playing so it’s getting steamy 😏*

In the next second, those blue eyes passed through the window and were firmly locked on me.

MC: ….!

I instantly withdrew my head and squatted down.

Helios: ….Come in.

Helios: I’ll only say it once. *Don’t need to tell me twice!! 😩😩 *

Hearing the slightly stiff tone, I stood up, lowered my head, and pushed the door open. I only took a single step in and then stopped.

Helios: I don’t see you this compliant on weekdays.

MC: ….You knew?! Then why did you never let me go before….

Helios: For my own pleasure.

I suddenly raised my head and found that he had positioned himself right in front of me. His scorching body temperature seemed to be able to cross the distance between us and set me on fire.

MC: I-I didn’t come here today to take a peek, I just….

He lowered his eyes and his gaze flicked across the bag I was holding behind me. His smile melted into a bit of a smirk.

Helios: If you’re saying goodbye, you don’t...

MC: I want you to teach me some martial arts.

I held my breath and did not miss the momentary surprise that flashed through his eyes.

MC: What you taught me isn’t enough.

Helios looked at me condescendingly, his eyes dim. A breeze flitted past my ear as his hand smacked against the door frame behind me.

Helios: Not enough?

In this tense atmosphere, I tried my best not to avoid his gaze.

MC: You taught me a lot, but….it felt like things had become even serious today.

MC: So I…. I still need you.

Before I finished speaking, Helios suddenly grabbed my left wrist from the outside and at the same time stretched out his leg to hook behind me.

When I lost my balance, his left hand instantly reached out to support my waist, and his right hand came out from under my arm and clasped my wrist from the front again.

When I came back to my senses, I found that I had been directly pinned to the floor, and the bag in my hands had been tossed aside.

The entire movement was executed clean and smooth, and there was only the faint sound of the silver bell on the old silver locket swaying in the silent air.

Helios: There are many people who need me in this city.

Helios: I can teach you. Want to learn?

He lowered his head slightly, and the old silver locket grazed my chest, which made me take in a sharp inhale. My entire heart and lungs seemed to be occupied by his breath.

I tried to lift up my wrists and lower limbs, but it wasn’t enough to shake off the person above me.

MC: In this bag is the money that I have saved over the past few years. The money you bought me for back then, plus four years’ worth of interest, will be given to you.

Helios: I’m not short on cash.

MC: If you accept the money, I won’t owe you anything, but I will still help you.

I tremblingly stroked the old silver locket on his chest. It carried his body temperature and made my fingertips hot.

It coincided with the seventh day of the seventh month of the first year we met. For the first time, I heard someone cursing him and wanting him to die.

I had cried and went to the temple to ask for a peace charm and an old silver locket. When I got home, I gave them to him together.

I knew that many people in this city hated him, but I wanted him to be safe.

He had just smiled sarcastically at the time, and I threw it away when he turned around. Who knew that I’d see it dangling on his chest here that night.

The silver bells chimed, just like my unstoppable heartbeat.

MC: You still wear this old silver locket.

Helios: I forgot to remove it.

His hot breath fanned my face, entangling with my own breath in the scorching air.

My fingers followed the silver chain of the old silver locket and stroked his chest. I could clearly feel his taut muscles under my fingertips.

MC: There are many orphans like me in the restaurant.

MC: Those merchants who were suppressed by you could always open new shops.

MC: Underground, the losers will always be the bureaucrats who usually bully others and gain funds out of ill will.

MC: I don’t know why you want to be a bad person in the eyes of the city, but what I see is different from others.

Helios: Ridiculous.

MC: This is what you taught me.

Looking at my smile, he snorted coldly, but the moonlight sneaking in illuminated the faint smile in his eyes.

Helios: You just said it wrong.

He glanced at my bag and lowered his body even further.

Helios: Don’t owe me anything?

Helios: The three years and two hundred and seventy-six days with me were enough for you to repay me?

MC: [confused] You didn’t even see how much there is inside….

Helios: I’ve seen it.

He pulled slightly hard, making me stand up instantly.

Helios: You owe me too much.

Helios: I’ll ask you to settle the tab later.

Helios: However, you do need to learn some self-defence skills.

Unlike his usual touch, his fingertips caressed my eyes, ears, nose and neck.

Helios: People have many weaknesses.

Helios: Eyes, ears, throat, heart…. *The way he said this sent shivers down my spine 😳🥵*

As he whispered, his fingertips kept moving downwards, making me nervously hold onto that hand.

Helios: [more sexy whispering] What’s the matter? Don’t you want to learn?

Helios: I gave you the chance to leave.

Helios: But you refused.

[Fourth Part]

Helios implemented his teaching method, “diligently” teaching from the most basic style, which made me extremely embarrassed.

MC: [flustered] ….Can you put on some clothes next time? *MC, no!! What are you even asking?! You enjoy it and you know it! 🥵

Helios: I can wear what I like.

Seeing the obvious teasing in his eyes, I ran away completely.

Finally, I asked him about what would happen on the seventh day of July, and his expression became a little solemn under the clear moonlight.

Gradually, I became even more sure that this was related to what he had done for so many years.

(Cut to store)

In the early morning of the seventh day of the seventh month of the lunar calendar, a few foreigners in suits and arrogant expressions came to the store.

These people seemed to be a little unkind, and my heart felt uneasy.

Waiter: Miss MC, a guest of the boss, made a reservation at Spring Moon Pavillion.

MC: Let me take care of it.

With a smile, I went to the foreigners and led them to the booth. I didn’t expect that Helios would already be waiting there.

The moment he saw me, his brows lightly furrowed and he tilted his head slightly.

“Leave.”

I blinked and instantly understood what he meant. After the foreigners walked into the booth, they positioned themselves again at the door.

MC: Boss, your guests are here.

After that, I took a step back and then ridicule suddenly rang out.

??: Leaving already?

Unexpectedly, a foreigner walked over, grabbed my wrist and dragged me directly into the booth.

??: Helios, you must have misunderstood.

??: What is the meaning of a group of men when talking about business?

The foreigner smiled sarcastically. I restrained the urge to shoot and looked at Helios cautiously.

In the next second, an invisible cold front flew past my face, grazing the wrist of the foreigner and leaving behind a small, bloody wound.

No one knew when he fired the shot, and Helios was still leaning on the sofa, lazily looking at the wailing foreigner. He made no effort to hide his coldness and murderous intent.

Helios: Next time, it’ll be your head.

Helios: Come here.

I stood cautiously behind Helios, and saw a man in a white suit standing up with a feigned smile.

Foreigner: Just kidding. Don’t get upset, Helios.

Helios: Is that what you learned by spying on me every day?

My heart sank and I tried my best to calm my nerves.

Have these people been spying on him?

Foreigner: Don’t say that, we just need to confirm whether you are worthy of our cooperation.

Foreigner: After all, with this kind of business, ordinary people are not eligible to participate.

Foreigner: But….we also have to look at the sincerity of the boss.

His eyes moved from Helios to me with an arrogant smile.

Foreigner: I heard that you have a well-trained girl who is clever and easy to use. I wonder if you are willing to share?

I was shocked and couldn’t move. I waited quietly for Helios’ answer.

Helios: I can.

The cicadas kept humming noisily, and for an instant, I seemed to be back to that moment from four years ago, when there was only haziness left in this world.

But I just blinked and walked respectfully from the back of the sofa to the foreigners.

It sounded like a serious matter. Maybe he wanted me to be an undercover agent for these foreigners?

Or maybe he just changed his mind again and didn’t need me anymore.

My vision became a little blurred.

Helios: Did you really think I would say that?

Helios’ arms encircled me from behind. His familiar breath came over me, and his voice was filled with pure mockery.

Foreigner: Helios, what do you mean?

Helios: Your nonsense... will anyone still want it?

The foreigner was stunned as if he didn’t expect him to say that. But in the next second, his expression became fierce again.

Foreigner: So it was you who brought those people…!

In the horrified eyes of those foreigners, Helios’ smile became even more ruthless.

Helios: I’ve been tired of looking at the faces of you idiots for a long time now.

Helios: I asked you to come today to settle the account.

At Helios’ signal, I slowly withdrew from the booth.

(Cut to lobby)

I didn’t know what would happen to them next, but maybe something would briefly end today.

I returned to the lobby and asked for the guestbook from the front desk. I wanted to distract myself but there was one face that was stuck in my mind.

Helios won’t get hurt, right?

Helios: ….MC.

Did I trouble him again just now?

Helios: MC.

An impatient sigh sounded in my ears and I felt my figure tilt, and in the next moment, I was trapped in someone’s arms.

Helios: Didn’t you hear me calling you?

MC: Helios….!

Helios: I should’ve said that only you can’t call me by that name.

In this lighted corner, the ambiguous gazes of the other guests in the lobby wandered over to us.

MC: Did you just call me? Wait… Has your matter been resolved?

MC: And let me go first. Th-there are other guests here.

Helios: This is my restaurant.

His fingertips rested on the guestbook, and a faint chilly scent emanated from him.

Helios: Did you really think I would give you to those people just now?

MC: ….

He narrowed his eyes, his voice carrying with it some faint, dangerous warning.

MC: …. I didn’t.

Helios: You’re a terrible liar.

Helios: Why did you walk over?

MC: Because I believe in you. I know you have your reasons.

I couldn’t help holding onto his drooping lapels. At this moment, Helios seemed to reveal all those sharp edges and corners of his heart.

There were only some unfamiliar ones left, which belonged to the insecurities of youth.

Helios: Ridiculous.

As he said this, he pulled me up and walked into the depths of the lobby.

MC: ….Sorry.

Helios: I’m talking about myself.

I looked up in surprise and saw his slightly ironic expression.

Helios: They have a large munitions factory behind them.

His voice was indifferent, but what he said was like a time bomb, going off in my brain.

MC: Munitions factory?!

Helios: Those foreigners have been smuggling arms into the city.

Helios: I couldn’t find the buyers and sellers, but there was always a steady stream of arms that kept coming into the city.

Hearing this, I felt cold sweat ooze from my back.

I knew what the meaning was behind all of this.

I remembered the unfinished words under the hideous faces of those foreigners just now.

Helios had found those people now.

MC: Why…. are you telling me this?

Helios: Because I want to.

In the midst of my wildly racing heartbeat, his words were sure and firm, as if something seemed to be coming to light.

MC: The merchants and bureaucrats that you suppressed were all related to this, right?

Helios’ silence secretly confirmed my suspicions, and my heart couldn’t help but race.

He always carried all the dangers by himself; walking alone in silence.

Why not ask other people for help?

Just as I was about to ask, I immediately thought of the answer.

With the continuous delivery of arms, both buyers and sellers were in the dark, and easy actions against them would only be a surprise.

Did he destroy those arms?

Helios: Strength and weapons are necessary.

Helios: Those who really need it will use them to protect important things.

He said this matter of factly with determined eyes as if understanding what I was thinking in my heart.

We walked through the corridor of the hotel and came to the street from the side door.

The dusk was heavy, the red lanterns softly brightening the sights of the entire street, and it was full of liveliness.

The girls blushed as they cuddled up with their partners under the lights and the crescent silver moon.

Such a quiet night made my nose itch.

MC: If those goods were sold to the original sellers.

MC: What would tonight have been like?

I turned my face to look at Helios by my side. The warm yellow lights shone on the side of his stern face. He didn’t say a word, probably accepting something reluctantly.

MC: What you said about this world… What do you think it will look like in the future?

Helios: There is only brief peace at the moment.

Helios: But suffering will bloom into a flower. (Sidenote: what he means to say is "no pain, no gain." It's one of Kiro's character themes :>)

He raised his head slightly, and the cold moonlight reflected in his blue eyes, like the sea under the moon.

Silent and immense, as if it could contain everything.

Seeing him like this reminded me of those distant eyes.

In a ghostly manner, I took out the crumpled old photo from my purse and held it beside his face.

Helios: Why do you carry this person’s picture with you everywhere?

MC: [smiling affectionately] Because he is special to me.

Helios: And yet you still follow me?

MC: This is different.

Looking at his teasing smile, I snorted at him and looked at the boy in the photo with a warm smile.

MC: You said that when technology advances in the future, this photo will definitely become the colour in my memory.

Under the blue sky, the blond boy was like a passionate golden sun under the eyes of the crowd.

He smiled and seemed to be able to become a source of invincible courage.

He could gather endless amounts of enthusiasm as long as he stood there.

His voice turned into notes and tunes, dancing along with the wind, driving some of the darkness away.

In this devastated generation, he was like a burning flame.

Kiro: I’m Kiro.

Kiro: Thank you for listening to my song.

Helios looked at the yellowed black and white photo, looking a bit dazed for a while, and a little lonely.

Helios: No one in this city remembers him anymore.

MC: I still remember.

MC: Even if the whole world doesn’t, I will remember him.

In those turbulent years, I had always remembered the embers left behind by that meteor.

Once, there was a young man named Kiro who helped me through countless dark and dull times with a smile.

Until the day I met Helios. I gained the strength to live again from this person.

MC: I think you are very similar.

MC: Although your methods are different, you are both using your own strength to illuminate and empower others.

Helios’ pupils contracted unconsciously, and became deeper with my words.

The slowly rising paper lanterns glowed with a gentle light, quietly surrounding us, like a tender embrace.

Helios: You haven’t asked for this year’s peace charm.

Hearing what he said, I suddenly remembered that because of the previous kidnapping, I couldn’t find a peace charm.

MC: Seeing your attitude before, I thought that there was something that was making you anxious, so I kept following you.

Helios: What attitude?

MC: You said I should leave before the seventh day of July. I asked you about it later, but you didn’t say anything. Wasn’t it about that serious matter?

Hearing my question, Helios froze for a moment and then turned his face to the side, his earlobes slowly turning red.

MC: Was that not what it meant?

Helios: ….

He pursed his mouth and the lights shone behind him like a splendid landscape painting.

Helios: Because “weakness” really does become a weakness.

MC: Huh?

Helios: You are the only person here who wants me to be safe and live a long life.

Helios: I was reluctant to wait until the Qixi Festival this year.

Helios: Although, I don’t understand why you would want to wish for peace during the Qixi Festival.

My heart was beating fast, and seeing Helios’ face turned to the side, I found his eyes to be brighter than the stars.

MC: [blushing] Because, because I just happened to run into you at that time. *Changed some wording*

MC: And if it’s the New Year, the wishes would all pile up on top of each other, and God won’t be able to hear them.

MC: During the Qixi Festival, maybe God is used to hearing the wishes for marriage, so he can hear my request for peace without needing it to unheard.

Helios: Then today, in addition to asking for peace, you can also wish for marriage.

Helios smiled slightly with some clarity and sincerity.

MC: ….In that case, a name is needed.

MC: But you never let me call you by this name.

I held my breath nervously and saw his face slowly leaning towards me. I didn’t mind the attention around me, and his breath slowly entangled with mine.

Helios: Let me see.

His protracted tone was a bit tempting and bewitching as if it had lost a thick shell; more naked and intimate than usual, and finally landed on my lips.

Helios: Ki-Ro.

Helios: Please use that name.

End

You can find the call that comes after this date here!

#mlqc #mlqc spoilers #mr love #mr love game #mr love queens choice #mr love dream date #mldd #mr love kiro #mldd kiro #mlqc kiro #周棋洛 #date translation #LOVED THIS DATE!!#a whole symphony of Kiro flavours #I especially liked the unexpected spice

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allovertheplace-writing · 3 years

Note

Hello there! Would I be able to ask for the obey me characters with a mc that has an extreme heat tolerance, and love for heat? (Like their room is 35 degrees at a minimum) and they love naps👀 totally cool if not though, remember to stay hydrated and I love your writing💗

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Obey Me

Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Asmo, Satan, Beel, and Belphie

Genre: Humorous Fluff

Type: Headcanons

Description: Refer to Ask

Warnings: Swearing, Light degradation(Levi/Mammon)- just the usual human and normie business

Of course! Thank you for the ask. I hope you don't mind that it's in my hcs format. If you want one with the "Un"dateables, feel free to send in another ask- I'll gladly do it! 💙

Check Pinned Post for Request Info!

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➢ Lucifer

Lucifer found out about your love for heat when he looked at the bills

He was rather shocked at first(and mildly upset at the high number), but came to the conclusion that it was fine since you weren't hurting anyone and it wasn't as much as the food

He hadn't realized how warm your room became until you were running a bit late in the morning

Lucifer stepped in to your room to see if you were awake and a waft of heat just slapped him in the face

With all his layers, he began to sweat

How could you survive in this???

Under all those fluffy covers???

He's indifferent to your joyness when it comes to heat after that

And he knows to at least shed his coat before entering your room

➢ Mammon

What's wrong with ya, human!?

It's like an oven in your room!

He's tempted to leave even though he just got here

Smh

Mammon, just like Lucifer, would leave his precious jacket in his room

Heat isn't the best weather for leather after all

If you're all cozy in bed when he comes to visit you, he won't bother you too much

But he'll complain about how he's already sweaty

"Grow up, you baby" MC probably-

If you ever want to cuddle in your room???

Ahah..

"Are you insane!?" Most likely Mammon-

He'll still hold you through the deadly heat

Even though he has some of the most extreme reactions, he finds some comfort in dying being with you

Sweaty and sticky- wait..

You ain't sweatin'!?

WhAt Do Ya MeAn YoU aIn'T sWeAtIn-

➢ Levi

Oh my god

He loves your room so much

He feels like he can just sleep there for days

But he won't say that

Nope- not ever

A normie's room could never be better than his own

Ask him to cuddle you?

*insert malfunctioning noises here*

Just drag him over

He'll like it

Give him a moment

And he will snuggle right up

Fluffy blankets aren't really his thing, blankets in general aren't

But since your room's so warm, it's perfect

He'll be bringing games and such to your room so you can play together

But only because your room's comfy

Not because he likes ya or anything

Got it?

Just kidding, he totally likes ya or something

➢ Asmo

Doesn't your skin dry out?

Asmo doesn't like it

He won't ever enter your room unless it's an absolute emergency

He might go in to drag you out of bed, but he's doing that shit in a hurry

Asmo ends up worried about your well being when you nap in that heat- UNDER BLANKETS

LIKE WHAY ARE YOU THINKING SJDBDJ

He'll help you put extra care in to your skin routine

'Cause he loves ya like that

Generally curious on why you like it so much

Is it comfy?

Is it because your body is colder than normal?

Are you cold blooded like Levi?

Smh

He has too many questions

Ask him to cuddle with you?

Of fucking course, babes!

Just not in your room

➢ Satan

He hates it

He likes the cool air of the house's library

Not the furnace your room has become

Though he noticed that one of the cats he was hiding snuck in to your room to sleep

What a weird cat

Yes, Satan. What a weird cat. Not the human who can somehow survive in extreme temperatures.

He starts to compare you with the cat and finds strikingly similar details about you both

But that story is for another smoldering time

When he puts you and the cat together, he can connect the dots and actually understand why you enjoy such high temps

It could be comforting, cozy, or remind you of home

Wait but isn't your home with humans? Only devildom gets this hot on a weekly basis

Or maybe he just doesn't know the places that get that hot in the human realm?

Maybe

At some point, he'll suck it up and join you in your room

But only if you insist on hanging out

He wouldn't dare bring a book in your room

Those poor papery pages..

➢ Beel

So worried

Can your human body actually take the heat?

You'll have to explain to him that you're okay and you just enjoy the warmth

He most definitely will join you if you want to cuddle- albeit changing in to a tank and shorts

Expect him to bring snacks

He'll bring some of your favorites too

Will admit that he can't quite take the heat for very long and will have to leave your room after an hour or two

He'd try to stay though, for you

He's the most willing to come and grab you if your taking a nap or over sleeping a little

If you ask him to, Beel will hangout with you in your room

So long as he can bring a couple snacks and eats beforehand

➢ Belphie

Belphie understands

Partially

He understands the cozy heat, but 35°C?

He won't sweat as much as the others and the warmth definitely makes him sleepier than normal

Hm.. maybe it isn't so bad

Or at least he thinks so

If he falls asleep in your room, either cuddling or just feeling cold, he's gonna hate it when he wakes up

His face is oily and his hair is sticking to his forehead

Hhh but it's comfy being cuddled up in to your side..

He honestly would want to take a cold shower or something

But if he's comfy, that idea could get washed away quickly

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392 notes · View notes

tllthesundies · 3 years

Text

Anonymous said:

hi! i love the entertainment fic :) can you please write the part when they are celebrating louis’ birthday together, from harry’s pov?

–––––––

Harry hears the front door open, then close.

He remains indifferent as he stirs the small pot with pesto sauce in it to keep it from burning. He, also, keeps his eye on the boiling noodles in the bigger pot. But he’s listening to Louis’s footsteps and the jingling of keys in his pocket.

“Okay, rockstar,” he hears Louis’s voice, becoming louder the closer he approaches. “I know I take care of everything, and I recognise that you live in the middle of no man’s land, but I didn't actually think I'd have to include a lesson plan on keeping your doors locked. Things happen, even out here.” He pauses, and although Harry keeps his vision on the food, he sees Louis in his peripheral lean against the counter beside him. He’s wearing his jean jacket, some grey band t-shirt on underneath, and pairing it with boyfriend jeans. “I mean, it's California.” Harry can’t help sparing him a brief look, anyhow, quirking an eyebrow as he stirs the pesto. He doesn't respond to Louis. Louis watches for a moment before pushing himself away from the counter to instead lean his hip against it. He sighs. “What are you doing?”

“Making dinner,” quietly and casually replies Harry. He turns the heat for the spaghetti off. “I thought we could eat while we plan. Are you hungry?”

Louis nods.

“Haven't had anything since lunch.”

Harry glances back at a cabinet somewhere behind Louis and points to it. “Do you mind grabbing plates for us and setting the table? They're in that cabinet.”

“Yeah, sure.” When Louis disappears, Harry takes the pot to drain the noodles. “Do you want a specific colour?” he decides to ask Harry.

“Um,” hums Harry over the sound of pouring hot water and wet noodles being dumped into a strainer. “Honestly? I'm feeling teal.”

As Harry finishes draining the noodles, pours pesto sauce on them and mixes them, and finishes the vegetables, he glances repeatedly, briefly, at Louis. He sees him with teal and olive green plates and sets them up on Harry’s table. He, also, tries offering help, but Harry shuts him down immediately, each time, and sends him to just sit at the table. His hands shake just a little bit when he puts each food back into their respective pots–the ends of his nerves are on burning ice and he can’t make himself look at Louis for very long, if at all. He’s just on edge for the truth he hasn’t told him, but he takes a silent breath to clear his head.

“Most of everything,” Harry says, after he’s set everything on the table and gently plops into the seat beside Louis.

Louis blinks up at him.

“What?”

Spooning noodles onto his plate carefully, Harry repeats, “Most. You take care of most things.” He offers the spoon to Louis with a small smirk ghosting his lips.

Louis breathes out a soft chuckle, taking the utensil from Harry.

He shakes his head in reply.

He waits until everything is on their plates to take off his jean jacket. Harry watches him remove paper from inside a pocket, then hangs it on the back of his chair. Louis unfolds it, glancing up at him. “I don't know what you've got planned,” he begins, “or anything, but I made a list, anyway, to help jumpstart ideas. You know Calista, so, I kind of presume you know what she likes. But—just in case.”

Tentatively, Harry takes the list Louis gives him. He swallows as invisible as possible, and his eyes roam over all of the ideas Louis’s written down: Frozen themed - extremely popular concept still; Pink strawberry theme; Typical animal zoo theme; the birthday party concepts keep going on and on, and the longer Harry continues reading the list, the more those icy ends of his nerves burn more. It becomes overwhelming for his chest, and–he has to tell the truth. There’s too much devotion and dedication in this list to keep his façade going. Leaning back into his chair, he finally gathers the courage to look at Louis, and says, “This list isn’t going to be useful. Don't be mad at me.” Eyebrows narrowing, a puzzled look comes across Louis’s face. “I lied to you.”

The fork in Louis’ hand halts.

He blinks slowly at Harry.

“What are you talking about?” he asks. “Why am I here, then?”

For a split second, Harry’s confidence wavers. There’s a hesitancy he can’t help having, and one he’s not used to controlling – and as observant as Louis is, he probably sees the moment he wavers. And the controlling side of Harry hates that possibility. But he looks Louis directly in the eye, runs a hand through his hair, and speaks in a quiet voice. “It’s your birthday in just a few days. I—I wanted to . . . give you some kind of celebration to show my”–the words continue getting stuck in his throat; he has to spit them out, to warm them up–“. . . appreciation for everything you’ve done.” He pauses, to gauge Louis’s reaction. He looks–unsure; wondering; still confused, albeit a little more understanding. “Look, I’m not the best at, uh—expressing my feelings for people. Not that I have feelings. But”—he rubs an eye with his knuckle, becoming frustrated with himself—“you know what I mean.”

He took Rachel’s advice, but maybe he went too far this time. He lied to get Louis to agree to this. He lied because he didn’t know any other way to go about this. He doesn’t know how to just–outright ask someone such a simple thing like hey, I want to celebrate your birthday, would you like to come over? And it’s far more awkward because he purposely hasn’t been the most pleasant to the exact person he wants to celebrate.

He’s trying.

Probably in his own twisted way, but he’s trying.

And the silence from Louis stretches for far too long – to the point Harry gets uncomfortable. But he doesn’t show it.

“I don’t know what to say,” Louis says, after some time, words just above a whisper.

“Say nothing,” Harry chooses for him. “Consider this a . . . I recognise your hard work, Louis. You’re always on time, prepared, and organised. I’ve never had to tell you how to do your job, and that takes a lot of pressure off of me. So, thank you.” That last part stings his throat when it comes out. But not in the wrong way. “Again, consider this a congratulatory party for two. Nothing more.”

Louis stares at him.

“How did you know?”

“Résumé,” Harry simply answers.

A small beat of silence.

Louis narrows his eyes at him. “I never put my age or date of birth on any résumé.”

“Résumé,” Harry repeats, intentionally curt.

Harry’s not going to tell him from which source he acquired the information from. He wouldn’t blow Niall’s cover like that. Niall had questioned him plenty enough when he had called him. Why do you want to know? Niall asked, even though he had already given the information to Harry. I just want to be nice, is all Harry answered with.

He wasn’t lying.

“Fine,” Louis replies cooly. “Creep.”

Harry puts on an unimpressed look, staring directly into Louis’s eyes as he chews his food. After swallowing, he says, “That’s a big accusation coming from someone I could fire.”

Louis smiles, smug.

“See, that’s the beautiful thing . . . you can’t fire me,” he retorts.

Harry shakes his head, and he fights the muscles in his face that are around his mouth that desperately are trying to lift his lips at Louis’s reply. He can’t let that happen. His mind races with other topics to bring; with other distractions.

“Listen,” Harry says, “I have a cake for you.”

“Where?”

Harry shakes his head again.

“We have to make it,” he tells him.

Louis looks cautious. “What flavour?”

“Chocolate.”

A pleasantly surprised look crosses his features. “That’s my favourite,” he says. “Lucky guess?”

“You could say that.”

Dinner continues quietly. The ends of Harry’s nerves have started to warm up, evaporating the icy burn and replacing it with a normal temperature. His heart stops beating inconsistently and begins functioning like a normal human being. However, the same icy feeling starts to show itself in Harry’s mouth; words flow uncontrollably out of his mouth. Harry’s not a talker. He knows how to talk. He knows how to respond to people, and how to maintain conversation, but he doesn’t generally start the conversations unless he has no choice. Louis looks a little amused by him, but he does his best to ignore it. He, also, tries to get Louis to talk about himself, so, that he has some semblance of control over his mouth, but it doesn’t work.

Harry notices Dolly sauntering into the kitchen in his peripheral as he loads the dishwasher. She has her mustard yellow turtleneck on still that Harry had put on her this morning, her collar matching impeccably. She comes right over to Harry and peers into the dishwasher, but Harry scratches behind her ear as a warning before gently swatting her away.

She mews loudly at him, offended, she wanders over Louis.

Harry rolls his eyes at her.

“Look what you've done,” Louis speaks up.

Harry looks over his shoulder at Louis as he messes with the controls on the top of the dishwasher.

Snorting, Harry opens a drawer and slings a clean dish cloth over his shoulder before making his way over to Louis. “She's just mad I wanted to keep her from hurting herself,” he tells Louis. “She'll come around in ten minutes and act like it never happened.” He lifts a hand and gently caresses Dolly’s neck. But Dolly tries to hide from him by burying her face into Louis's armpit.

Louis laughs, surprised.

“Oh, no.”

Harry just puckers his lips and gives her an air kiss, and chuckles, smiling. “She always comes back.”

Louis bends his head and drops his gaze to Dolly. Harry watches the gentle way he rubs the top of her head and the rest of her body. He’s so much more familiar with her than when he had first met Dolly. He had been jumpy, a little scared. Now, they’re friends. Harry turns his head away and walks to the pantry.

“So, I've got,” Harry begins, and stops. He grabs the chocolate cake box he sees hiding on the top shelf, and stretches his arm up to get it. The matching frosting container is nearby, and he grabs it, too. He reads the back of it before continuing speaking. “Chocolate frosting. And”—he draws out the word until Louis rolls his eyes, telling him to get on with it; Harry's composure breaks, a grin breaking across his face as he stammers out his words because of his breathy laugh—“could you get the eggs out, please?”

Louis probably thinks he’s annoying.

It’s all on purpose.

Louis squats down to release Dolly from his arms. She jumps out of his grip, but remains by his feet. He washes his hands, first, then puts the eggs he retrieved from the fridge on the island.

Harry comes up beside Louis who’s reading the instructions on the back very carefully, and just dumps the oil, cake mix box, and frosting next to the eggs

Harry finds his measuring cup, and gives it to Louis to use for the oil and water. Louis asks him senseless questions; if he wants to do the eggs, et cetera. Louis has him sniff the inside of the cake mix bake to see if it smells good. It’s very chocolatey. And while he lets Louis do whatever he wants with the cake, he searches through his playlist to find music to fill the silence, so, he doesn’t have to talk too much. He finds Louis a bowl, a pan to fit the mixture into, and preheats the oven.

Harry sticks his finger in the bowl last minute, making a pop sound upon releasing his finger from between his lips.

“That’s really tasty,” he says.

Louis’s unimpressed.

“Tell me that when you get salmonella.”

“Can't wait.”

Louis shakes his head.

As they wait for the cake to fully bake, they work together cleaning all of the dirty utensils and bowls. They clean the island. Dolly stays silently crowding their feet. Harry can feel Dolly rubbing her head against his ankles, then attempts to climb onto his feet to lay down on them. Harry internally sighs.

“Look,” murmurs Louis.

Harry hears a smile reflecting in his voice.

He doesn't remove his gaze from the whisk he's washing.

“I know she's there. I'm ignoring her.”

Then it happens very fast:

Harry feels a small puddle gather on his feet and the bottom of his pants that cling to his skin. He hears Louis’s shocked laughter, but he doesn’t look at him as he breathes in a sharp breath to calm himself. Every fucking time.

“She—”

Harry's eyes close in pain. “I know. I wish I could say this hasn't happened before.”

While Louis’s still giggling and picks Dolly up from his feet, Harry excuses himself to go change his pants, then reemerges to find Louis feeding Dolly from the palm of his hand.

Louis looks over his shoulder at Harry, a single eyebrow raised.

“Better?” he asks.

“No,” Harry answers immediately. He pulls out the chair beside Louis, turns it around to sit backwards in it. He crosses his arms on the back of it, and gives Dolly an annoyed look that she ignores entirely in favour of the food she nibbles on in Louis's outstretched hand.

Still highly amused, Louis smiles, looking at Harry. “She's fine. Why'd she do that?”

“She does it when I'm absent too much” Harry explains. “In her cat mind, she thinks if she vomits on me, I'll be forced to clean up after her and take care of her. I don't know. Cats are—they have strange minds. I just think it’s only my cat because she has anxiety problems.”

Closing his parted lips, Louis shifts his gaze over to Dolly. She's trying to bite down on a hard piece she got. Harry watches them both. “Did you want to, like, watch something?” Louis asks, glancing briefly at Harry. “While the cake bakes?”

Harry nods.

“What do you have in mind?”

Shrugging, once, feebly, Louis says, “I don't know. Maybe a movie? Comedies are nice.”

Harry stands from his chair, and pushes it back in normally. “It’s your birthday; you get all the privileges of picking and holding the remote.” He walks past behind Louis and into the front room, and sits down in the left corner of his settee.

After letting Dolly tackle the last couple of pieces of her cat food into her mouth, Louis picks her up and takes her with. He tucks his left leg underneath his right one when he sits down on the settee. There's a space between their bodies that isn’t too enclosed to make Harry uncomfortable; and he averts his gaze to the television, so, that he won’t continuously stare at Louis in his peripheral vision. He can’t keep doing that. He can’t keep–looking at him more than he needs to.

It’s dangerous.

Harry places the remote in Louis's outstretched palm.

Louis shifts through channels for too long; and when he enters Netflix, he spends too much time reading each and every description.

“By this rate,” says Harry, breaking their long held silence, “the cake will be ready before you settle on something.”

Louis turns his head, tilting his head in a look. “Well, I'm not much of a TV person, to be honest,” Louis admits. “What do you recommend?”

“I told you,” says Harry, staring straight at the television still, “your birthday, your choice. . . . But . . . if you really want a recommendation . . . There's Something About Mary is a very good romantic comedy.”

Louis blinks. “What's it about?”

“This guy Ted — Ben Stiller plays him — wants to reconnect with his old prom date back from high school he had a massive crush on, so, he hires somebody to track her down and . . . it's, like, really messy, but what rom-com isn’t? It's a hundred times better than it sounds,” Harry promises him.

Louis seems to consider it.

Then he nods.

“Sure. Let's watch that.”

Harry looks over his shoulder at Louis as he stands from the settee. “You sure?” he asks.

Harry kneels in front of his small but wide bookcase full of DVDs. He quickly looks over every case until he finds the one he’s looking for. Turning the player on and popping in the disc, he returns to his spot on the sofa. Harry’s seen this romcom a thousand times, so, though he keeps his eye on the television, he doesn’t try to catch up with everything that plays out. Instead, he listens to Louis’s laughter, and distracts himself by dragging his forefinger across his lips for something to do. When the stove timer goes off, he jumps up to get it, and Dolly follows behind him.

“It's done,” Harry calls out. After he puts the cake on the counter on top of a dish cloth, he tests the idle with a toothpick. When he looks up to see where Louis is, he finds him by Harry’s walls of picture frames, cradling Dolly in his arms as his gaze roams. Harry decides to act indifferent and let a hard feeling pass through his stomach, and raids through his pantry to find the frosting. “Louis. Where's the frosting?” Harry feels Louis come up beside him a moment later. “I gave it to you. Where could it have disappeared to?”

Taking a step back, Louis stretches an arm out to open the freezer door. He reaches in, and then he closes it to hold the small container of frosting towards Harry, in the air. “Right here,” he says, wiggling it when Harry looks at him, gaze falling on the container. “I put it in the freezer.”

Harry pauses, lips parting. “Why did you put it in the freezer?”

Louis raises both brows at him in a way that the answer should be obvious. “Because room temperature frosting is disgusting? It's only good when it's cold.”

Gently, he tosses it on the island.

Harry's eyebrows pull together as he steps back and pulls the pantry door closed. “Uh—I hate to inform you, but frosting is good no matter what temperature it is,” he says in a vaguely defensive voice.

“Now you're just being gross,” comments Louis, looking briefly at Harry when he situates himself in front the cake, his lightheartedness subtle. Harry chooses to just busy himself with removing the cake from the pan, turning his back to Louis. “Oh, no.”

Harry turns around.

“What?” Harry asks.

He sets the plate full of cake beside Louis on the island and peeks at what Louis has in his hand.

Louis turns his body in an angle, towards Harry, and demonstrates the issue. Holding a knife in his hand to scope some of the chocolate frosting out, he goes at it — but he's stopped, and it's impossible to get any, because the knife is met with nothing but brick. “It's frozen,” Louis says.

Harry blinks a few times.

“Really?”

“Shut up,” he retorts. He glances around before walking over to a cabinet to retrieve a bowl. “Couldn't we use a microwave? Unless you're willing to wait an hour for it to thaw. I know I rather not.” Setting the bowl down, next to the frosting, Louis takes it in his hands and attempts to shake it out into the bowl first. Harry just watches him – and he pauses for a second, because he notices a small freckle on the upper part of the side of his neck. He’s lost count, now, how many freckles Louis has.

“I thought you hated warm frosting.”

“I do, but if we put it in for just a few seconds it won't matter,” Louis reasons.

Harry watches him shake it and realise that method doesn’t work. He proceeds to lay it upside down on the lid and hits it hard. Then he tries squeezing it before attempting to pry the container from the edges of the frosting.

The corners of his mouth tilt downwards in a frown.

“It's going to take more than a few seconds,” Harry comments, and takes the frosting from Louis. He bangs it against the edge of the island, the sound visibly startling Louis. The solid block of frosting falls right into the bowl Louis had gotten. Harry gives him a smile as he walks past Louis to the microwave that sits on the counter to the left of the refrigerator and slides it in. Harry doesn't take it out until it looks like it's thawed entirely, then pulls it out with a hot pad. Coming up beside Louis, he pokes his index finger in the frosting and sucks it into his mouth. “Not that warm.”

He pokes another finger in it.

Louis waves his fingers away from the frosting, and he uses the knife from before to taste it. The temperature appears to be okay with him, judging by the pleased look on his face.

“It's really good,” he confesses quietly to Harry. He puts his knife in the dishwasher full of other dirty utensils and grabs clean knives and forks to use and separate plates for Harry and him. “I don't want to put any frosting on it, by the way,” he adds.

Harry pauses.

“What? Why?” He pulls his eyebrows together in confusion, and looks at Louis instead of the cake. What kind of person doesn’t want frosting on their cake?

“I prefer to have it on the side and dip the cake in the frosting,” Louis explains. “It tastes better to me that way.”

For a few moments, Harry stares at him, and Louis stares back, a little challenge in his face. His assistant is weird. But he can work around it. So, he nods, saying, “We can do that, no problem.” Then he remembers: “Wait.” He walks over to a drawer a few feet from them and rummages through it until he pulls out two things: a large pack of single candle sticks, and candle numbers 2 and 7. “Can't forget these.” Harry sticks the numbers right in the centre, then surrounds it with twenty-seven of the fifty count of blue candles. It's a very crowded cake, and crumbly and has new cracks added into the old ones because of the force of all the candles. It’s ugly, in Harry’s opinion; the cake, the stereotypical candles, how bare and destroyed it all is – but when he lifts his head to look at Louis, into his blue eyes that have specks of green and grey, his chest eases. Stops. Momentarily. This . . . isn’t so ugly.

Quickly, he lights all of the candles. “Okay,” he says upon lighting the last one, and sets down the lighter. “Make a wish.”

Louis ends up staring at his face instead of blowing out the candles right away. He searches Harry’s face. And Harry doesn’t know what to do besides stare right back. Finally, Louis tears his eyes away and leans down, blowing out the candles. They leave a trail of smoke in the air and a very distinct candle stench that Harry hates. But Harry pretends, and chooses to clap him for and whistle. Louis laughs at him, something soft and something high that pulls at Harry’s chest. He starts picking the candles out of the cake, and Harry notices a soft tinge of pink colouring the apples of his cheeks.

Harry doesn’t know why, so, he ignores it.

Louis cuts the cake and gives the first slice to Harry, then gives one to himself. Harry suffocates his slice in frosting very carelessly. Dolly retreats back to them and tries to rub her face in the bowl of chocolate and what's on their plates, but Harry grabs her with both of his hands and tucks her underneath his arm. She struggles to free herself the entire time; Harry ignores it. Even when they sit back down on the sofa to continue watching their movie. Harry doesn’t see it coming when Dolly whips her paw around and slashes at his skin, causing a long and bright red scratch down his forearm. He lets her go immediately, pissed off.

He sees Dolly strut right into Louis's lap, and walks in circles before settling down to rest on his thighs. Her relaxed exterior pisses him off more.

“Are you okay?” Louis asks, concerned, eyes full of concern.

Harry’s jaw tenses. “It burns,” he answers truthfully, “but I’m fine. She's just in a mood today.” He rolls his eyes.

There’s a frown on Louis’s face when he glances down at Dolly, but he doesn’t say anything further. Harry chooses to suck it up and finish eating his cake while ignoring Dolly. The scratch thankfully never bleeds, as they finish the rest of their movie, eating the entire cake by themselves. Louis doesn’t finish the next slice he eats, but Harry has no problem eating the rest of it for the both of them.

Harry's licking the icing off his fork when he looks at Louis. The half piece of pure cake is still there on Louis’s plate. “What did you think?”

Louis's eyes flicker up at him, meeting his gaze. Breathing in a soft breath, he nods his head.

“It was good; I liked it. I love Cameron Diaz.”

“Me, too,” Harry admits. “She's very nice.”

“Have you met her?”

Humming, Harry nods once. “Met her on the red carpet at some award show. I think I have a picture.” Louis huffs out a chuckle. “Do you want to watch another movie?”

Louis stays silent for a moment, then shrugs and rests a hand on Dolly, whom lays sleeping in his lap. “Sure. But you pick this time.”

“It's still your choice,” Harry reminds him.

Breathing out a purposely heavy annoyed sigh, he says, “I choose you to pick the next thing we watch.”

“That's not how it works.”

“Sure, it is. It's my birthday.”

Harry stares at Louis, pressing his lips together. It becomes a staring contest between them. It goes on for several moments until Harry blinks and looks away. “I can't argue that,” he says, finally.

“Exactly,” quips Louis, as he gently drops the remote in Harry's outstretched hand, palm turned up.

They watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s, then when Harry turns on Meet the Parents, he notices Louis’s eyes start closing. He repetitively glances out of the corner of his eyes at Louis, watching him nod off until he’s sound asleep. Harry’s chest grows soft as he stares at Louis’s tired, pale face. His thin lips are slightly parted, like he should be snoring. Him and Dolly both sound asleep on each other is a rather humourous sight. He decides to leave Louis be and turns his attention to the television to watch the movie. There’s something . . . oddly comforting about the silence; Louis sleeping beside him, the hum of the telly, the filling sensation that encompasses the silence. It’s not so lonely–not so what Harry’s used to. By the end of the movie, he grabs his own plate and stands up, then does his best to grab Louis’s without disturbing him. But Louis’s eyes flutter open at the accidental brush of contact that Harry internally curses himself for. Louis straightens out his very tilted sleeping position, and looks up at him through squinted eyes.

Harry gives Louis a genuine apologetic look, and quietly says, “Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”

Louis delicately rubs his eye with the back of his right hand, and stretches his legs, breathing out a tired sigh. He blinks his eyes a few times to adjust. “It's fine,” he rasps. “Sorry I'm falling asleep.”

“Don't apologise,” Harry gently tells him.

He continues off to the kitchen. After scraping off pieces into the rubbish and rinsing off their plates, he lays them on the counter, then hesitates. The image of the gift bag still in the other room floats to the forefront of his mind. He looks over his shoulder at Louis, and finds him distracted by Dolly, and makes a quick decision. Harry speed walks to the other room on silent heels and grabs Louis’ gift bag, then makes his way back into the front room. Louis looks up the exact moment Harry approaches him, and the movements of his hand combing Dolly’s fur stop when his eyes fall down and spot a white bag in Harry's left hand.

“What ‘ave you got there?” His tone is careful.

Harry sets the shopping bag right in his spot, close enough for Louis to reach into. Harry sits on the edge of the settee on the other side of Louis, at an angle facing Louis, and he looks him directly in the eyes. “I thought I'd give this to you, before you completely black out on me,” he says. “It's not really a celebration without gifts, too.”

Louis pushes himself up to sit straighter. “Harry . . .” He looks at a loss for words – lips parted on nothing; uncertainty scaling his face and eyes; touching the bag’s thin, black handles like it’ll burn him. “You didn't have to get me anything. Dinner, movies, the cake, I'm perfectly content just with that.”

Harry presses his lips together lightly and nods. “I know,” he says, forcing his gaze to not leave Louis's. “But I want to do this for you. Don’t make me repeat myself; I’m not good with complimenting people. Just accept it.”

“Harry—”

“Fucking accept it,” he says.

Glancing between Harry's face and the bag, Louis touches it again.

He leans forward and peeks inside. It’s covered by black, decorative tissue paper, and Harry watches him use both hands to remove all the tissue paper.

He knows the second Louis sees it. He pauses, gaze unblinking and widening just enough for Harry to catch. He sees the backpack from Givenchy Harry had gotten him. That was . . . another thing he managed to get out of Niall. Louis’s allegedly been so back and forth about buying it for himself that Harry decided to choose for him. It was extremely easy to find, and even easier to buy. It was probably the easiest gift Harry’s ever had to shop for. But–he didn’t think it was enough; he had bought a bag of Reese’s, as well as wrote a check out for Louis and put that in the backpack for him. Maybe it would make up for everything, Harry’s hoping–maybe it’ll . . . Harry shouldn’t be hoping for anything, really. But after Rachel had a talk with him and made him feel like a shitty person, he’s hoping this’ll convey Harry’s guilt. Or apology. Louis might not recognise it as that, but that’s okay.

“Open it,” Harry instructs softly.

Louis quits just staring at the bag and unzips it. Suddenly, he looks up at Harry and smiles at him, face glowing in happiness. Harry can’t help the smile he gives him in return. Louis backs down and–a little laugh is pulled out of him. Harry’s eyebrow furrow, a little, in wonder.

“What's so funny?” Harry asks.

Louis pulls the bag of candy out to show Harry, without speaking.

Harry's gaze shifts from Louis to the treat, a confused but amused smile splitting across his lips. He . . . doesn’t understand. It’s candy. Harry shrugs like what about it? and Louis shakes his head in response and mumbles never mind. Setting the candy down beside Dolly, he grabs the check.

Louis scoffs, shaking his head as he begins to read it, and asks, “How much is this?”

But he abruptly stops, face falling.

“Five thousand dollars,” Harry casually answers, despite his heart picking up pace again. Louis lifts his head to look at him, but he doesn't say anything. Is it too much? Is it too forward? Did Harry cross a line? Maybe he was wrong for buying Louis his dream backpack and a check. But if he just stuck with the candy, then Harry would look like he put in the least amount of effort in. And this is the line he struggles with: either going too far, or not doing enough. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” Louis answers immediately. Then he releases a breath, knowing he’s full of it. “This is too much, Harry.”

Harry blinks, then stamps on his racing heart and pulls out his detached face. “Louis,” he begins, stern, “don’t even start. That?”—he points to the check—“That is pocket change to me. We’ve gone over this. I have more money than I’ll ever know what to do with. I don’t see better use for it than for charity and for using it to buy whatever you want. Don’t feel bad about me using my own money. Eat the rich, or whatever they say.”

“Do you even know what that means?” Louis asks.

Harry pauses.

“Yes and no. But that’s a different conversation for another day.”

Louis blinks, breaking his gaze from Harry. Harry watches him closely, and waits for something. Louis’s face is concentrated; furrowed eyebrows, a far away look in his crystal clear eyes. He’s thinking something, and as much as Harry would love to get inside that pretty little head of his, he merely settles for waiting. Dolly comes poking through, however, weaving herself effortlessly and expertly through Louis's arms. She throws her arms up to cling to the opened backpack, and stands on her hind legs to peer inside. She stuffs her entire head in it, and it breaks Louis out of whatever it was, making him chuckle.

Harry just shakes his head.

Louis wraps his fingers around her legs to pull her back out of his backpack, but she clings hard. Harry finds himself laughing softly at the image before him, and he intervenes quickly. He softly scratches behind Dolly's head, then transitions into wrapping his hands around her bottom. He picks her up upside down, successfully having Dolly let go.

Harry pulls her to his chest.

Louis's small chuckle turns into a giggle, and he shakes his head. He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, and Harry watches his face change to realisation.

“I have to go,” he announces.

Dolly falls out of Harry’s grip and runs away.

He looks at Harry.

Harry puts on an unreadable face. “You have to go?” he repeats.

“Yeah,” Louis responds as he stands up. “I have a flight in the morning. Remember? I have to get up really early, and triple check all my belongings. It’s a long flight, so, I’ll need some proper rest.”

“All right,” Harry agrees. He walks first to the door, with Louis following suit, after placing his backpack back into the bag, along with the check. “When's your flight?”

“Hm,” Louis hums. “I think 7.45 in the morning.”

“Harsh,” Harry comments lightly. He lifts his hand to rub at his neck a moment. “I hope it's good. Tell your mum I said hello.”

Louis nods. “I will. And I hope it is, too.” There's a slightly awkward pause, on Louis's end. But it doesn’t last. “Listen . . . I want to thank you for—”

Harry interrupts him.

“No problem.”

“You didn't have to,” Louis points out. He's clearly not going to let Harry wave it off. “You didn't have to do anything at all, but you did. I just want you to know that it's one of the nicest things someone's ever done for me, and that I really, really appreciate it.”

Louis looks at with the most serene face, conviction in his tone. It causes Harry to be temporarily weak.

“You're welcome,” he says in response, hands clasped behind his back for something to hold on to.

Harry doesn’t see it coming – Louis steps forward with confidence, coming into Harry’s personal space, and raises himself onto his toes to wrap his arms around Harry’s shoulders. Those icy nerves return alight and burn him. He’s paralysed for several moments; all he registers is the faint scent of floral notes reaching into his nostrils and brushing against his nose hairs. It’s not overwhelming; it’s the perfect aroma of flowers and fruitiness. Based on his own colognes he’s sampled and bought before, this one could be YSL – or maybe it’s ones he’s seen, such as Lancome. They carry a lot of floral perfumes. Either way, it’s very pleasing. And before he can think, he sneaks his arms around Louis’s small waist–it’s much smaller and slimmer than it looks–and spreads his fingers across the bottom of his spine and the middle of his back.

It’s only a moment later Louis pulls back.

Even though Louis doesn’t look at him, he can’t stop staring at Louis, completely dumbfounded.

“I'll see you in a couple weeks,” says Louis, smiling, when he looks up at Harry. “I'm a text and phone call away if you need anything, okay?” Louis raises a pointed eyebrow at him, giving Harry a look. “Don't hesitate, okay? I won't mind.”

Harry nods.

He’s not going to, but he’ll pretend for Louis.

“Got it,” he says, pressing his lips together.

The pointed look remains on Louis's face.

“I mean it,” he presses, to ensure his message is across.

Harry rolls his eyes and straightens out his posture. “I know,” he sighs. “I’ve survived nearly a decade without you, so, I don't think anything I can't handle is going to happen in the time you'll be gone.”

Louis throws his hands up in surrender.

“Hey, I didn't say you couldn't handle any one thing. I implied quite the opposite, actually,” he corrects.

Harry plays along.

“No need to rub my already swollen ego.”

Louis smiles, huffing out a small laugh. It’s the softest expression he’s ever seen on a face. It’s so caring. Harry doesn’t–understand how he can be so gentle. “Never happy with anything, are you?” he teases.

Harry smiles. “Nope,” he says. “Comes with being a perfectionist. And just being me, in general.”

“I see.” There's silence that falls over them like a blanket. Harry’s hoping Louis will take the cue and leave, but he stays. “What do you plan to do for Christmas?”

Harry blinks.

“I don't know,” he answers. “I don't do much for Christmas, really. I don't celebrate it.”

Louis raises an inquiring brow. “Because of religious reasons, or . . . ?”

Harry shrugs. He doesn’t talk about it with anyone. He’s certainly not going to discuss it with Louis. “Nah. Just don't celebrate it, that's all,” he answers, giving Louis a small smile that he knows doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Not even with your parents?” Harry shakes his head, choosing not to say anything more. With that, Louis drops the subject. “Don't forget to—”

“I'm kicking you out,” Harry says, tone flat, and a finger pointed to the door behind Louis.

He walks around him and opens it.

“You're kicking me out?” Louis repeats,, smiling and now standing so close to the door frame, as he keeps his gaze on Harry, whom now leans against the side of the red door, arms crossed and one foot hooked around the other.

Harry nods vigorously, eyebrows risen.

“Get out. Right now.”

“Fine, I'll leave,” says Louis, raising his hands as he walks out onto the stone walkway, “but not because you're threatening me; but because I want to.” He keeps on walking down the small set of stone steps and across the path leading to the driveway.

“Louis,” Harry calls out without thinking, just going on the feeling of restricted air in his chest. Louis looks over his shoulder, as his hand pulls his car keys out of his pants pocket, and his strides slow. He stares at Harry with patience, and it’s the last thing Harry wants to see in his face, because he won’t be seeing him for a while. “Merry Christmas. Happy birthday. Have a safe flight.”

Louis’s mouth curves up in a gentle, genuine smile.

“Thank you. Happy New Year,” he calls back.

Harry closes the door two-thirds of the way, not willing to let go of the sight of Louis quite yet. He needs to see him get safely in his car and drive away – he can’t let that feeling go. The restriction in his chest worsens when he watches Louis open his car door, but it eases slowly when Louis looks back. In fear of coming off creepy, he closes the door. But he stays behind it to listen to the engine start – to see the red lights reflect against the windows and the distant sound of his car fade until Harry can’t hear anything anymore. Then he turns around, inhaling a deep breath when his vision lands on Dolly sitting on her bum patiently by the stairs, watching him.

“Dolly,” he says – she tilts her head – “Am I too much?”

Dolly mews and walks off.

He’s always changing himself, changing his style, his image. He’s either always too much or not enough; there’s no healthy balance. Maybe he’ll try working on it in Louis’s absence, so, he doesn’t have to fret over it every time he says or does something he’s not familiar with. He doesn’t want to scare Louis off.

#drabbles #hiiii i hope this doesn't disappoint! i had a headache while doing this lol so i hope it turns out decent-ish!

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calebdumes · 3 years

Text

kanera (and space fam) prompt from @pretchatta: “the ghost has a power cut...in deep space!”

i am so tired y’all this week has been hell.

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: n/r

word count: 1,232

Kanan was in the galley when it happened. There was a loud pop before the Ghost shuttered and the lights cut out.

“Kriff”. He muttered into the pitch blackness that had surrounded him. He pushed away from the counter he was leaning on and took a hesitant step forward. As he shuffled to the door, an arm outstretched in the darkness, he let his awareness spread out in the Force. Hera's panic hit him like a wall, punching the air from lungs.

Pulling with the Force, Kanan shoved the unmoving galley doors open and began navigating through the dark, familiar hallways. As he approached the cockpit he could hear Hera giving rapid fire orders to Chopper. Her voice was urgent but deceptively calm. If he wasn't able to sense her worry, Kanan wouldn't have thought anything was wrong.

He reached out with the Force once more to pull open the heavy metal doors and stepped into the darkened cockpit.

:Sabine, what's our status?” Hera asked without looking away from the dead dashboard in front of her, her face dimly lit by the stars burning outside of the view port.

“Not good.” The teen's voice crackled over Hera's comlink. “The hyperdrive is shot and the main powercore is fried. I'm working on rerouting the backup core.”

“We must have taken more damage leaving Batuu than we thought.” Kanan said as he took his place in the copilot's seat. “What do you need me to do?”

“Find me a replacement powercore so we don't all die in the vacuum of space?”

“I'll get on that.” She shot him a frazzled smile before turning back to the dashboard.

“Sublight engines back online!” Zeb's voice echoed from down in the hold. A moment later, the emergency lights flickered to life, filling the cockpit in an eerie red glow. From the seat behind him he heard Ezra's sigh of relief.

“so...are we like, stuck here?” he asked.

Kanan pulled up the Ghost computer's star chart. They couldn't have been hyperspace for more than a few hours before they were forced out and if his math was right that put them right in the middle of empty space. Perfect. He flipped through the screens hoping to come across a moon or a space station or something.

“I got it.” He said spying a planet that wouldn't be too far for the Ghost to limp there. Hopefully. “Takodana. We can make it there in a day or two as long as the sublights hold out.”

Hera rubbed at the base of her lekku. “If I shut down the nonessential systems and divert more power to the engines, we could maybe shave off half a day but it's not going to be comfortable.”

“What's not going to be comfortable?” Zeb asked as he and Sabine filed into the cockpit.

“Hera's shutting off the nonessentials.” Ezra said.

“Karabast, that's not good.” The Lasat grumbled.

“We'll make do.” Kanan said forcefully. “Why don't grab a couple of those heat generators from the hold?”

“You mean the heat generators we stole for Fulcrum?” Sabine asked, resting a hand on her hip.

“I'm sure Sato will understand.” Hera replied in a tired voice. “I think there are some spare blankets in the Phantom.” She told the Mandalorian. “Why don't you and Ezra go get them please? And tell Chopper to get up here. There's nothing more he can do until we're planet side.”

The two teenagers disappeared down the shadowed hallway while Zeb climbed back down to the hold, leaving Kanan alone with Hera in the cockpit.

Kanan pushed up from his seat and stood behind Hera's chair, digging his fingers into the tense muscles in her shoulders. “It's going to be okay.” He whispered. “We've been in tighter pinches than this.”

“I know.” She sighed, her tension slipping away as Kanan worked. “I just hate the cold.”

Kanan smirked, lowering his head until his lips were inches away from her ear cones. “I'm sure we can think of something to keep warm.”

She angled her head to brush her lips across his. “I'm going to hold you to that.”

To say that the Ghost was cold would have been an understatement. It was freezing. Hera had put on three layers and had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and was still shivering. The worst part was, they were only four hours into their slow sublight trek to Takodana. She had managed to shut down all nonessential systems and put everything but life support in low power mode, including the temperature regulator. Most everyone had taken refuge in their cabins with a heat generator, Hera was the only one still awake.

With chattering teeth, she looked over at Chop who stood by his console, completely indifferent to the frigid air. Lucking droid. ”I'm going to turn in, wake me if something else decides to blow up?”

Chopper whomped at her as she passed, waving one of his manipulators. The door to the cockpit had been left open after she shut down the automatic function to save on power. If anyone needed a door open, all they had to do was ask Zeb or Kanan. She looked into her empty cabin and frowned. Turning, she knocked on Kanan's door. It hesitated slightly before groaning open.

Kanan was sitting up on his bunk, with only his sheets wrapped around his shoulders. She curled up next him, drinking in his warmth.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up.” He said hissing as she stuck her cold fingers under his shirt. He was just so warm.

“I was promised warmth.” She mumbled into his chest.

“You're like a kriffing ice pop Hera, why'd you wait so long?” she just shrugged and let him run his hands up and down her arms, the feeling slowly returning to her extremities.

“H-how are you not cold?”

Kanan pulled her down until she was nestled between the wall and the solid warmth of his body. “I don't know.” He said wrapping his arm around her. “The Force is all I can think of.”

“Stupid Jedi abilities.” She grumbled. Kanan kissed the tip of her frozen nose. She was about to nuzzle further into his shoulder when his cabin door groaned open. Hera popped her head up to see Zeb, Sabine, and Ezra standing in the doorway with their heat generators and blankets.

“For the record.” Zeb said inviting himself in. “This was all the kit's idea.”

Ezra looked slightly guilty before following the Lasat in. “I just thought we'd all be warmer if we were all in the same room.”

Kanan groaned and let his head fall back against his pillow.

“It's not a bad idea love.” She whispered into his skin.

“Just no funny business from you two.” Sabine said with a pointed glare in their direction as she laid out her bed roll. Zeb chuckled as he climbed up to the top bunk, leaving his heat generator on the floor next to the teenagers.

Kanan pulled her in close and rested his head on her chin. “It's going to be a long night.” He mumbled.

Hera smiled, a little ball of warmth glowing in her chest. It was kind of nice to have her whole little family all nestled together. “Rain check dear.” She said, placing a kiss on his collarbone before letting her eyes slip close. She guessed, all things considered, the cold wasn't that bad.

#pretchatta #kanera #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars rebels #star wars: rebels #look at me write #shleby writes #you could always see me #i feel like i could sleep for a week #or a month #or maybe just sleep forever

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satsuma-saturn · 4 years

Text

Trying - Mammon x Reader

A/N: ok, so this is another song fic b/c i can’t help myself lmao. also, i decided to say ‘guardian’ instead of ‘parent(s),’ so you can insert whoever, like maybe a grandparent or a foster parent or whatever. you can even insert your parent(s), if you feel comfortable doing so. it was for the comfort of the reader, just like the gender neutrality of the reader character. the guardian is only mentioned like once, but i just wanted to point it out.

WC: 2520

Warning(s): Reader deals with depression/anxiety and has a meltdown (kind of panicky, but not to the extent of a panic attack), Mammon sees the reader nakey, but there’s nothing spicy

fic is below the cut

I’m not really sure if my words make sense to you, but I can’t really find any other way to form these feelings into cubes and sort them in my mind…

Breathe. Just breathe. An involuntary function that you shouldn’t find it so hard to do, yet you feel your chest tightening as you hyperventilate and sob in the bathtub. You feel as though you’re dying, tears streaming down your face, blurring your vision. The water in the bath chills you to your core, and you just want to hide under your covers in your bed, but you remain in the tub, unmoving.

A knock on the door pulls you out of your haze. You wipe your face as the knocking gets louder, sitting up. Your breathing slows, but your nerves are still shot. Someone wants your attention, but you don’t respond. Instead, you pull your knees to your chest, shivering as the icy water seeps into your bones, freezing them solid. The knocking refuses to stop. It only gets louder the longer you sit there, but your body, crafted of lead, remains still, and you stay in the tub.

The negative thoughts go on the left and the happy things on the right, and there’s a little corner saved just for you…

“Hey, Y/N! What the hell are ya doin’ in there? Masturbatin’? Ya been in there for like two hours and I’ve been waitin’ for ya!” Mammon. One of the more sympathetic brothers, yet despite that, you can’t bring yourself to tell him about your anguish, as you let out silent sobs in the bathtub. Hell, you can’t even bring yourself to speak. You’ll just leave him with that imagery instead. Eventually, he’ll get bored and leave you alone. It helps that he has the attention span of a dog on a walk, especially one that has just spotted a squirrel.

Please let me know if you change your mind, ‘cause inside I’m falling and I need you to pull me out of this decline…

Only, your assumption about him getting bored and leaving cannot possibly be more incorrect. He needs your attention and he needs it now, the clingy sonuvabitch, so good luck getting rid of him. “Ya can’t just ignore the Great Mammon like that! I’ll break down this damn door if ya don’t open it, ya stupid human!” The doorknob jiggles, as if he’s first trying to see if he can even open the door, except it’s locked, because who the fuck leaves the door unlocked when they’re bathing? It won’t open until you’re ready to leave, since you can’t see him actually breaking down the door, therefore, it will remain locked until you unlock it. His words are most likely an empty threat meant to scare you into opening the door for him. Except, you feel no fear as you listen to him, since Mammon and fear pair together as well as toothpaste and orange juice. In fact, if you weren’t in such a sorry state and having a meltdown, you probably would laugh at his futile attempts to enter your bathroom.

I realize how hard to you this must seem, but trust me when I say it’s far, far worse for me…

Instead of opening the door, you just close your eyes and lay back down in the tub, wiping away the tears that refuse to stop vacating your eyes. Not too long after, Mammon’s knocking on the door again. Only, it’s louder and harsher than knocking. Is he kicking the door? You never thought he would hold true to his threat, but it sounds like he’s trying to break down your door. That ass.

You jump as the door swings off its hinges, crashing into the wall. Now, not only is your door destroyed, but there is a gaping hole in the wall. How the hell are you even going to respond to this? Mammon broke your damn door and now he’s in your bathroom, where you’re crying and naked in a freezing bathtub. He’s never even seen you naked before and this is not how you imagined it would go. This is so fucking embarrassing.

Please, please be here for me, dear, ‘cause I’ve never needed a friend more and I can’t stress how much it means to me that you’re trying…

His blue eyes widen as they drink in the scene in front of them. “Why the hell are ya cryin’? Is it ‘cuz I broke yer door? I’ll jus’ take some cash from Levi to replace it. I’m sure he won’t mind.” The way he’s staring at you makes you want to sink lower into the tub or disappear completely. Not only that, but Levi would most definitely mind if Mammon ‘borrowed’ some money from him, considering how often the latter had done it in the past without paying him back. “Why didn’t ya respond when I was callin’ for ya?” He steps inside the bathroom to sit on the edge of the tub. If he couldn’t see your body from the doorway, he can definitely see it now. You suddenly feel extremely self-conscious as you lay in the tub, thinking of how to respond. Quietly, he watches your face, waiting for your reply.

And I don’t mind if you can’t hold me like you used to, ‘cause I’ve never hated myself more…

Your voice is hoarse. “I don’t know. I guess I thought you would get bored and leave if I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think you’d really break my door down.” The water splashes over the side of the tub, spilling onto the floor, as you sink lower into the tub. You close your eyes as you sink to your ears in the tub, tilting your head so that your face isn’t submerged. Mammon’s voice sounds akin to the buzzing of bees as he speaks to you once more. Why can’t he just leave? Isn’t it obvious you don’t want him there, in your bathroom, where you’re naked and crying? Why is he so damn nosy?

His hands are gripping your biceps, nails digging into your skin as he pulls you out of the icy water. You don’t bother opening your eyes to look at him, but you feel him wrap a towel around you, holding your shivering form against his chest. “The hell are ya doin’, Y/N? What’s goin’ on with ya? It’s gotta be more than just the door. Were ya in here crying in this fuckin’ freezin’ water before I got here?”

But this is just a bump in the road and I promise I’m trying…

Nodding your head, you swab your tongue on your lips before speaking. “Yeah.” That’s all you say in response as your teeth chatter uncontrollably. The water was hot when you first got into the tub, but you guess you were in there for so long that the temperature lowered a substantial amount. Still, you weren’t glad to be out of the tub now. Under the water, you didn’t have to answer his probing questions. Now that you’re out of the tub and in his lap, you have no choice but to answer the questions he throws your way. You don’t know how to explain it to him. Your thoughts and feelings, and how they’re sporadic, like a scribbling on a child’s drawing. The child’s drawing is of a dog, only it looks like it’s just a bunch of scribbles.

I promise I’m trying…

Not only that, but you’re naked and in his lap, a towel serving as the only thing separating the two of you. You start crying again, burying your face into the soft fluff of the towel, your shoulders shaking. Your eyes are closed, but you feel Mammon pull your head to his chest, seemingly indifferent to your sopping hair drenching his shirt. “Y’know, I always wondered why ya stupid humans gotta cry n’ be sad n’ stuff. Ya have such short lives and ya spend them cryin’ in bathtubs. I’ve been alive for I don’t even remember how long and I ain’t never once cried in a bathtub.” Mammon speak for why are you crying? I care about you and want to help you. He would never actually say that, though, since he likes to pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, even if it’s obvious to literally everyone, including yourself. Whatever, you’ll just let him live out that fantasy for as long as he pleases.

You wipe your face on the towel, peering up at him with glassy eyes. There’s a look of discomfort on his face, like he wants to help you, but doesn’t know what to do. “I’m crying because…” Why are you crying? Originally, you were kind of panicking, but it was something so small, and you weren’t sure that he would get it. “I was having a meltdown and just kinda sad in general. It just kind of happened while I was in the bath. I didn’t really expect anyone to come in here to check on me. Or y’know, break down my door.”

Give me a moment to get my cards in line, ‘cause I’m still trying to figure out in what kind of order I should set them out…

He chews on his lip, silent for a moment. You feel as if this is the most serious you’ve seen him. A frown spreads across his face after a few moments of silence. “Y’aint got nothin’ to cry or be sad about, human. ‘Course, if you were hangin’ out with Satan or Lucifer, I’d understand, since bein’ around them makes me wanna cry. ‘Specially Lucifer. Don’t tell him I said that, though. He’ll throw a hissy fit. Thinks he’s so cool, but he’s a damn stick in the mud.”

If there was a way to explain everything without a word, I’d have a full house right now, without a doubt…

Sniffling, you wipe your nose on the towel, pretending that you don’t leave behind a disgusting trail of snot as you do. Ignoring what Mammon’s remarks about Satan and Lucifer, you say, “can you take me to my room? I just want to lay down in my bed right now, if you don’t mind.” Your hands are shaking as you speak, and you attempt to get them under control, but the effort it takes drains you, like trying to scoop water out of the Titanic with a plastic pail.

I’m trying to tear the wool from your eyes, but part of me wants to let you be, ‘cause then you wouldn’t see what I’ve become…

A slow nod from the demon comes after a few seconds, as if he needed time to process your words. He hooks an arm under your knees and lifts you up, holding you as a groom would his bride, and carries you out of the bathroom. Stepping around the splintered pieces of door, he loses his balance, almost dropping you when he steadies himself. In response, you dig your nails into his arm, bracing yourself for smacking the ground. Mammon hisses in pain as you leave small, crescent-shaped indents in his flesh. Yet, he holds onto you, miraculously managing to not drop you on the floor.

I’m trying to shout, but no sound comes out…

Gently, as if afraid to break you, Mammon sets you down on your bed, towel and all. After that, the bed shifts as he too lays down, pulling you to his chest. For a few seconds, there’s nothing. Just him holding you against his chest, seemingly unwilling to let you go, not that you want him to. His breath is warm on your damp hair, as his fingers tangle in it, massaging your scalp with his fingertips.

As he massages your scalp with one hand, the other rubs slow circles on your back. You can fall asleep right then and there, with the silence and his soothing touches, but you want to lay awake with him. Despite being a demon and the Avatar of Greed, he is always kind to you, even if in his own way. His inability to admit his feelings may make him appear cold towards you to an outsider, but you know differently.

It’s like we’re in a dream state, but I should have woken up, woken up by now…

After a long, drawn out silence, he finally breaks it. You figure he would give into his impatience eventually. “Are ya feelin’ any better? I don’t know too much about humans, but I know a lot of ‘em like physical contact when they’re feeling down, at least in my professional experience.” Professional experience. The words almost bring you to laughter. You can’t picture him having really any personal, or ‘professional’ experience with humans, much less ones that struggle with mental health issues, such as anxiety or depression.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” you reply. Your head aches and your mood is still damper, but you know that Mammon is attempting to make you feel better, in the best way he can. The demon, always greedy for your attention, is probably thriving from all the attention he’s getting at the moment. Only the two of you are in your room, so he can be the sole recipient of your attention and you can tell he’s soaking it up.

“Good.”

Please, please be here for me, dear, ‘cause I’ve never needed a friend more and I can’t stress how much it means to me that you’re trying…

Even if Mammon often drove you to near insanity with his crazy ‘money-making’ schemes and pranks, you’re grateful for his presence. Warmth radiates from him, a welcome change from the icy water of the bathtub that you were in some time ago. His clothes are soaked from your towel, pressed against his body, but he doesn’t seem to mind. When you try to point it out to him, he ignores you, continuing to rub circles into your back.

And I don’t mind if you can’t hold me like you used to, ‘cause I’ve never hated myself more…

Having your back rubbed relaxes you, and you find yourself almost drifting off to sleep a few times. You’re reminded of when you were a small child and your guardian would rub your back to get you to sleep, especially when you had trouble sleeping. In order to keep awake, you lightly pinch your skin, leaving behind faint pink marks. Normally, you’d go to sleep no problem, but you feel an obligation to stay awake with Mammon, especially after all that he’d done for you in the past hour or so.

But this is just a bump in the road and I promise I’m trying…

Your eyelashes, like butterflies, flutter as you fight to keep them open. The hand in your hair stops its movements, just gently resting on your occipital bone. You continue to fight sleep, but eventually, you give in, feeling it wash over your body. When you eventually wake up, you’re still wrapped in your towel, with Mammon asleep by your side.

I promise I’m trying...

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fe-semi-decent-scenarios · 4 years

Note

Congrats on 100 followers!!! If it's no bother could I request head cannons for how protective the BL group is over their s/o? Thanks :))

[I’m assuming that these are just general jealousy level / worry-wart head-cannons? We’re not tapping into yandere on this blog lol. I’ll keep it simple, how ya like it :3]

Dimitri:

11/10

Boy worries

People out there want him dead = people out there want you dead too

Some might even try to take advantage of you due to his high status

Makes him hella clingy sometimes. Nightmares when you’re in ‘unfavorable’ circumstances aren’t rare

Even in his emo phase he’s still like this- just even more because the world is basically his enemy

Don’t let feral dima be around when soldiers talk smack to you. He will put them in their place without mercy

Doesn’t help that you’re basically the closest to family he’s got aside from Dedue

Dude you’re his future and he knows it. There is no one else who would stick with him through everything like you do

Even if there was, he wouldn’t want them. No one can ever replace you

He’s not so much concerned with someone else putting the moves on you

Okay, wait--hold that thought

He trusts you but goddess forbid someone makes you uncomfortable. He will use his authoritative presence to make them feel like a pebble next to a boulder

Totally glares at anyone with wandering eyes when you’re not looking. He’ll put one arm around your waist and nudge you away from them without hesitation

Dedue:

3/10

He can’t stop people from making advances- he knows that

He also can’t take action on your behalf

Sure, he doesn’t like it when people make advances towards you. The whole point of being in a relationship is so people know that you are each other’s partner

Most of the time he just lets you deal with it. You can take care of yourself

His mood goes foul if people dare to do it in front of him. If people thought he looked intimidating before then d a m n

He’ll casually place a hand on your shoulder (which if you know him well is actually the most unusual thing) and ask if you need anything else before dismissing himself

Just a little expression of clarity that you’re with him, you know, chase the bugger off

Surprisingly not a worry-wart in any aspect aside from health

It’s easy for someone to neglect their health; mental and physical

Don’t be surprised if he encourages you to get check-ups ritually

If something’s an issue he expects you to come to him when you’re ready

Not pushy in the slightest

Felix:

8/10

Asserts d o m i n a n c e towards all threats

His attitude is one of the top three causes for any arguments. You know the snarky remarks are part of the Felix package, but would it kill him to have some restraint occasionally?

Despite his intelligence Felix tends to make quick assumptions. The guy has a bit of a superiority complex and doesn’t like when other people get cozy with his s/o

Pity the fool who challenges the Fraldarious

He views it as them not taking him seriously.

Also slightly afraid you’ll ditch his difficult ass

He can and will tell them off. Doesn’t matter the time or scene- if he feels someone’s being too buddy-buddy then he’ll make them to get lost

Hence the arguments. It can get bothersome when he acts out towards someone you’re friends with or if he causes a scene

He knows that it’s out of line and that you can make your own choices, but he can’t help it

Will apologize begrudgingly, but only to you. The other person can just live with it

You might be able to milk it and get an apology hug lol

In other aspects of life he’s the same way. If a politician tries to screw you over he’s right there watching from the sidelines, if you’re in battle then he’s constantly glancing at where you’re stationed, etc.

Ashe:

7/10

He’s your silent protector lol

Not because he’s ‘quiet’ but instead out of fear. He doesn't want to annoy you

Ashe has a lot of insecurities. No matter how many times you tell him otherwise he’ll always think you’re out of his league

If anyone flirts or makes suggestive comments towards you he’ll get upset

Like, really upset

extremely upset

He’ll watch from the sidelines as you diffuse the situation, lacing one hand with your own with a smile. Just you’re normal not-confrontational-at-all-Ashe. At least that’s what you see

On the inside it’s a raging storm of emotions going on. He’s so afraid that one day you’ll wake up and realize that he’s not good enough. That he’ll have to watch you walk away and return to an empty home again

Que nervous sweating

He becomes a doting mother if you’re ever ill or in danger. For weeks on end he’ll become you’re second shadow

If someone ever dares to hurt you while he’s nearby they’re getting an arrow in the back. No mercy. The fury borderline snaps the arrow between his fingers

Hates leaving you behind or being away. Not knowing if you’re safe, happy, healthy, etc. eats him up inside

Literally fragile glass. He can’t even tinker with the thought of you dying or he gets a stress-induced headache

Sylvain:

5/10

He’s so neutral towards everything that it’s honestly scary

The fellow Lions would even say ‘creepy’ for some occasions. It’s so far off from how he behaved towards his past partners and other friends

With his past and reputation people would think he’d at least get defensive when other people flirt with you

He knows what players are looking for since he was one. He’s been in their shoes

Yet??? He’s indifferent towards everything???

It takes a lot to get Sylvain worked up. His laid back way of approaching conflict tends to rub off on those around him and therefore helps in avoiding arguments

It would take either you expressing your discomfort or for the other party to attempt physical contact to make him hostile

Even then though he’ll simply push them back before leading you away. No harm no foul, just in and out before things escalate

When it comes to big decisions or outbreaks he also follows a neutral approach. He waits for you to express your own wants before giving his opinions

You want to fight in the next battle? Cool, you’re registered. What battalion are you with? Well, looks like your going a different route than him. Are you sure that’s the one you want to follow? Yeah? Nothing he can do then aside from wish you luck.

Doesn’t mean he won’t be concerned at all though. I mean, it’s natural to be.

His mindset is that if he doesn’t worry then you won’t either. Anxiety is contagious and you don’t need extra stress in bad situations.

Annette:

7/10

She doesn’t w a n t to be like this, but sometimes it’s hard to hold back jealousy

Annette is one of those people that likes attention from the person she cares about. It makes her happy, so being ignored for someone else would really hurt

She’s nothing special in this regard. Like any person in a relationship she’ll have her moments, but for the most part everything is fine and dandy

The whole reason she’s above average is because of other reasons

She’ll nag you about safety precautions with logic from her studies. Being a goodie-two-shoes from a young age has her nerves spiking whenever you take needless risks

If she wasn’t reading up on faith magic before then she is now

The fear of being left behind is also something to chalk up on this list. If you’re gone longer than expected she’ll become antsy

The others can always tell when she’s worried. Annette isn’t very good at hiding that kind of aura from taking over

All in all, she’s not a very protective person. A better term would probably be “anxious”

Mercedes:

10/10

While she isn’t the staple of ‘overprotective,’ she is still exceedingly mindful of possible disasters

Are you really surprised? Mercedes cares about everyone no matter who they are.

She legit prays for the souls of her enemies. The woman is a saint in human skin

This also negates any jealous bone in her body. If she ever does feel uneasy it’s just a quick pang in the chest and then it’s gone

She doesn’t like to dwell on ‘what ifs’ because then she can’t live in the present- where people need her

She can seriously be a bit much other times though. If you even sneeze near her she’ll ask to take your temperature

Doesn’t matter where, who, when, etc. Mercedes takes care of everyone

Don’t ever deny her either. She can be pushy if the situation calls for it and sometimes it’s just easier to let her do what she wants

She’ll pray to the goddess for your safety before any battle, and send you off with extra healing potions for the times she won’t be near

During these times she’s extra vulnerable and is more open to showing her own personal strife to others. She tries to keep optimistic but nobody’s perfect. If it becomes too much she may seek to talk with a close friend (aka Annette)

However, her thoughts remain unclouded when others are in need. She suppresses her personal feelings until those in front of her are taken care of

Ingrid:

0/10

She isn’t worried

You know better than to wrong Ingrid

Enemies know better than to wrong you

Either happens and someone’s gonna die

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hikari-writes · 4 years

Text

『Boku No Hero Academia』

Fluff Oneshot

❝ Hair Dryer Replacement ❞

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto

Warning: Tiny bit of swearing, FLOOF

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1.3k

Excuse me,,, *cough* literally the only reason i made this was because i like to write y/n just being irritated at Kaminari as a friend,,, no hard feeling! I just meant that it's cute as heck 😔😔💘💘💘 (i guess i kiiiiinda like to bully Kaminari 👁👄👁)

"Y/N, are you okay?"

Ochaco quickly comes up to you and rubs circles on your back. You just give her a weak nod, the nauseated feeling slowly dissipating.

You had accidentally used your quirk over the limit at today's quirk training, hence why you're feeling nauseous. It's nothing too serious though. After you had changed back into your school uniform, you excused yourself to wash your face at the nearest sink before going back to the class.

"Hah…"

You finally feel refreshed again after washing your face with the cold pipe water.

Just as you were about to leave, you noticed there was something glittering in the sink. You squint your eyes to have a better look on the thing with the water still running but it turns out to just be a small piece of old hairpin. You were about to back away from there when suddenly….

"Hey, Y/N! Feeling okay now?!"

Kaminari who appeared out of nowhere slapped your back a little too hard, almost making your face hit the sink wall. Thankfully, you were quick enough to grab onto the sink to stop your face from kissing the wall….but not quite lucky enough to stop your head from being drenched in the running water.

"Uh...huh?"

Kaminari's cheerful smile slowly turned into an awkward one as soon as he saw what he had done.

"Ka.Mi.Na.Ri….."

You glare at him through your wet hair that covers your face, making the electric boy's face turn pale.

"I-I'M SO SORRY!!!!"

~~**~~

"Hey, Y/N, took you long enoug-- whoa! What happened?!"

Mina looks at you with wide eyes, confused at your wet state. You look at her with your deadpan eyes and point at Kaminari behind you.

“This idiot pushed me too hard and got my head drenched in the water. I don’t even have any spare towel to dry my hair with.”

You groaned for the umpteenth time and made your way to your seat.

Mina stares at you briefly before a mischievous smile makes its way to her face. She’s planning something, and it involves you, and it’s definitely NOT in your favor. Too bad you were too busy being annoyed with your hair to notice the bad bitch energy she’s emitting.

“Oh, if you’d like it, I can create a hair dryer for you---”

Momo was about to offer her help when Mina suddenly pulled her away and covered her mouth with her hands.

“You were saying, Yaomomo?”

You turn to look at them and when you see Mina covering Momo’s mouth, you squint your eyes at her suspiciously.

“...What are you doing, Mina?”

“Nothing! There was a fly that was flying near Yaomomo’s mouth so I quickly helped her close it! More importantly, I have an idea on how to quickly dry your hair!”

You raise your eyebrow at her, pretty intrigued to hear the solution.

“Wait a sec. Todoroki-kun! Can you come here for a moment?”

Your shoulders flinched when Mina suddenly called Shouto over. You wonder if she has something planned, seeing her grinning from ear to ear. After all, she does know the fact that you maybe, perhaps, have the tiniest, smallest, crush on Shouto.

……

Okay, actually, you have the biggest crush on that dense boy but you didn’t hear that from me.

“What’s the problem?”

Shouto asks, looking at the both of you with his usual indifference.

“So, like, you can control your fire temperature or something right? You see, our cute Y/N here is having a tad bit of a problem. Her hair is really wet because of a certain idiot’s fault so now she’s really uncomfortable. Could you maybe light up a fire from your body for her to dry her hair?”

You whipped your head at her and your eyes widened to the point it actually feels like it’s about to pop off.

“MINA, my DEAR friend, could you PLEASE stop whatever idea you might be having? Or would you like me to FORCE you to stop fir---”

“Alright.”

Shouto’s sudden agreement to the request made you shut your mouth and turn to him with shock. You internally panicked, not knowing what to do in this situation.

“T-todoroki, I don’t think you should trouble yourself over this...Besides, how am I even SUPPOSED to dry my hair using your fire side?”

You look at him with a forced smile after seeing him already activating his quirk. From your distance, you could feel the warmth he’s emitting and it made your heart beat faster and faster. You try hard to not make the blush on your face noticeable.

“About that….”

Mina suddenly spoke and hoisted you up. In a state of pure confusion, you followed after her movements and stood up...only to suddenly be pushed away and bumped into Shouto’s body.

Your mind went blank for a moment and you could’ve sworn you were so close to screaming out loud if it weren’t for your last rational brain cell ordering your teeth to bite your lips to shut your mouth up.

“There! You guys can hug--I mean, stay close to each other like that so that Y/N’s hair can absorb the heat or something and quickly dry….or something. You can be her hair dryer replacement, Todoroki-kun!”

“You sure do say ‘or something’ a lot! Do you even know what you’re doing?!”

You yelled at Mina while trying to pick up your balance and move away from Shouto. As soon as you did though, you were pulled back against Shouto once again. Your face flushed and you tried to look up to Shouto, visibly confused with his sudden action.

“Well, I guess I don’t really mind it. You can stay there until your hair dries. Just tell me if the fire is too hot or something.”

You clench your fists into balls and nod slowly, your face getting redder by the passing moments.

“I think the only thing that she thinks is hot right now is you---”

You send a loud hissing sound at Mina to shut her up. Mina covers her mouth and tries to stifle a giggle from coming out.

You turn back to Shouto and try to not get your head too distracted by the extremely close distance while chanting,

“He’s just doing this as a friend, don’t get too excited over something like this. He smells so good but don’t think about it. Remember how Kaminari once almost got you in trouble by dragging you into one of his messes. That’s right. I better get back at him later for this too and….”

In the end, you managed to keep your head occupied by remembering back on all the times Kaminari had put you in trouble. You keep getting ticked off as you remember more and more moments and your inner monologuing almost came out as a mumble. Shouto looks down at you who seemed so deep in thought.

“Are you uncomfortable?”

His question brought you back into reality and you look to see him making a concerned face at you. Your face went bright red once again seeing his face up close but you tried to cover it by putting a hand on your face.

“A-ah, no, not at all! This is really comfortable! I think my hair is warm and dry now. Thanks again, Todoroki.”

You quickly step away from him before your heart explodes. You thank the God you didn’t pass out while being in that position.

But what came next wasn't quite what you had expected and your fragile heart truly wasn't ready for it.

Shouto sends a smile your way and said,

“No problem. Just ask me again if you need my help. I quite enjoy having you close with me.”

The only thing you remember next was hearing Mina’s voice desperately calling out your name while shaking your body to bring you back into reality.

“I guess I CAN let Kaminari off the hook, just this once, as thanks.”

The End

#boku no hero academia #bnha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha #bnha todoroki #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto #todoroki shoto x you #todoroki shoto fluff #bnha shoto x reader #bnha shoto todoroki

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adulttrio-imagines · 4 years

Note

🌡️☁️🛁 for adult trio please?

I’m just gonna combine these 2 asks since they’re pretty similar!

☁️ - Soft headcanons

Hisoka

It’s no secret there he likes his sweets and has a horrible sweet tooth, he may act all coy and standoffish, but he’ll appreciate any type of dessert you make him, no matter how he acts

He loves games, card games, video games, mind games, he can spend hours trying out a new game and getting completely engrossed in it, he absolutely loves games and loves mastering them; he also enjoys adding his own twist to games to make them more interesting

He likes teaching and explaining things to people, and is a surprisingly good teacher. He is patient and gives decent (although questionable) examples, and is always willing to see his students improve (for his own gain). In another life, under different circumstances, he would have been a very good mentor with eccentric methods

Chrollo

He has a soft spot for children. It’s incredibly, incredibly small, but not nonexistent. He may not necessarily know how to act around them or like them per say, but he is undeniably softer in his actions towards them, ever so slightly in his own way

He appreciates their innate curiosity and desire to explore the world around them, something that gets more and more difficult to find the older he gets, he also likes being informed of their opinions and outlooks on life

If you can’t sleep during the quiet hours of the night, he’ll make you a cup of tea and read whatever he’s on aloud to you, as it’s something that helps him whenever he cannot sleep

Will and can talk about his current focus of interest for hours, he gets all excited and hyper focused with plenty of excited hand movements, before he retreats into his mind to sort out his thoughts and ideas, and for just those precious moments, his eyes shine

He would never admit it but his favorite books to read are simple hero adventure novels, something about its simplicity just comforts him

Illumi

During the earliest hours of dawn, before he’s fully conscious and aware of everything happening around him, he doesn’t shy away from your touches and lets you hold him close

He has a green thumb and can spend hours tending to his greenhouse, he says it’s to discover new combinations and increase his poison resistance, but it also relaxes him and fills up the emptiness in the mansion

He had a role in helping Kalluto develop his hatsu, and was the one who introduced his brother to origami. It originally started as dexterity training, where they would compete to see who could fold the most cranes; it was also one of the non-harmful training methods he could think of

Before Mike, there used to be another dog that guarded the mansion, and it was Illumi’s best friend and only friend during his earliest years as an only child

🌡️ - Sick headcanons

Previous post here

Hisoka

Hisoka gets sick in three stages; the brat phase, the hallucination phase, and the blackout phase

He can get extremely demanding and pushy in the brat phase; he’s not feeling his best, but he’s still functional enough to be taking advantage of the situation and getting you to adhere to his whim and fancy

He likes wrapping himself out like a burrito using his multitude of blankets since he’s not used to feeling cold

If he’s sick enough, he would start hallucinating and seeing things that aren’t there; they’re harmless for the most part but occasionally his past memories would resurface and force him to hide into himself

Finally he blacks out for days at a time, and remains completely delirious until he gets better, not remembering anything that happened the past week

Chrollo

After leaving meteor city, he’s got all his shots like a dog; medical treatment was a privilege not available to him growing up, and is something that he cannot dream to pass off on now

When he does get sick though, he still pretends that everything is find and dandy, and nearly overdoses himself on whatever flu medication he can get his hands on

Will also stuff himself with vitamin C supplements all in an effort to recover faster

He’s a lot more willing to engage in physical contact whenever he’s sick, and may even initiate himself, he likes leaning against people and just falling asleep on them since he’s so exhausted

Most willing of the three to try out new/non-traditional medications, just to see if it’ll work. He’s always curious about everything around him, no matter how ill he gets

Whenever he’s in a feverish state, he’s almost delirious and makes the most rash of decisions, being a total opposite of his current self

Illumi

He has a tried and true method that cures any illness: sleeping

Since he works himself so hard, when he does get sick he blacks out for at least a full weak and barely remembers anything that happens

Somehow still manages to take care of himself, including cleaning himself up, since he is the most self-sufficient out of his siblings

He is very careful at what he consumes, and has a few dishes that he eats only when he’s sick to boost his immunity and speed up the healing process

When he’s awake and can’t sleep, he likes using this rare moment of spare time to catch up on his reading and give into his guilty pleasure of watching trashy horror films

🧨 - Unexpected headcanon

Hisoka

He’s actually a very organized person when it comes for his own things and can be responsible in fulfilling things that benefit him; he remembers deadlines and completes his tasks just fine, it’s usually a matter of whether he can find the motivation to do so

While he doesn’t know what he finds sexually attractive since almost anything can turn him on, he is always entranced by faces and can spend hours staring at them; if he dates you he would more often then not trace the details of your face whenever you’re asleep

He’s a big switch, even when it comes to spooning. He will always insist on being the big spoon, but secretly he enjoys being the little spoon as well

Chrollo

He’s a huge conspiracy theorist and spend hours reading about unexplained situations, while he is mostly skeptical, the idea that world governments play a huge role of fueling such situations isn’t surprising to him

He hides plenty of food and treats in that big jacket of his, coming from meteor city made him well-acquainted with starvation and it’s a feeling he never wants to be reminded of again

As much as Chrollo is a sapiosexual, he is just as likely to be a moronosexual as well. Something about a loud idiot just amuses him to no end and entices him for reasons beyond his understanding

He loves his loud-mouth dummies, their honest, straightforward and direct nature draws out the best in him, and he sees their ability to call him out on his bullshit as a way to improve himself

Illumi

As much as he resembles his mother, he takes after his father more and used to have a good relationship with the man

He actually went through a rebellious teenager phase during his earlier years and became quite a handful for his parents, something they didn’t know how to handle since it was so different from the quiet, obedient son they had before

Puberty combined with external factors from his job made him quite emotionally volatile and his parent’s’ solution to his actions was to send him for more jobs/punishment, which worsen the situation

Of course, it all calmed down after killua was born and he was stripped from his title as heir to the Zoldyck family, in part due to him believing that if he returned to the way things used to be he’ll be able to get his parent’s attention and love again

🛁 - Bathing headcanon

I’ve written for Hisoka and Illumi here, so I’m going to keep theirs short

Hisoka

His favorite thing to do in baths is to see the blood of his victims slide off him and mingle with the clean bath water, it just mesmerizes him

When he does take a shower, he likes it burning hot, enough for him to steam up the whole bathroom and come out lobster red

Chrollo

He’s the type of person who would listen to podcasts in the shower, bonus points if they’re true crime podcasts

He is pretty indifferent towards showers and baths, and does either depending on his mood, sometimes he wants it to be quick and sometimes he just wants to soak in the bath

While he is pretty neutral towards water temperature, he really appreciates a shower head with good pressure and loves blasting himself with it

He can spend a full hour in the shower just by getting lost in his thoughts and just forgetting where he is

Will imagine hypothetical situations and arguments in the shower and think up the best ways to counter them

His hair takes the longest to wash despite its length due to it being naturally oily, the liberal amounts of gel he uses doesn’t help his case either

Growing up, since clean water was so hard to come by, bath time usually also meant washing his clothes, and it’s a habit that he hasn’t necessarily shaken off

Illumi

He brushes his teeth in the shower, it’s just time-efficient

He lets his hair towel dry, and doesn’t like using hair dryers since it makes his scalp itch for days afterwards

#hunter x hunter #hisoka #chrollo #illumi #adult trio #hisoka headcanon #chrollo headcanon #illumi headcanon #which of them pee in the shower #👀👀#vote now on your phones!#asks #anon

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seymour-butz-stuff · 3 years

Link

A real estate agent might call our apartment in the Montrose neighborhood of Houston cozy with a sun-drenched bedroom. The reality is that it’s a small, cheap, window-heavy garage conversion. But it’s ours. We’ve filled it with art, good food, books, craft supplies, so many plants, dog toys. It’s our home. Now it makes my skin crawl, a reminder of how fragile these comforts often are.

There are blankets and rugs on the floors to protect feet and paws from the cold wood. There’s a pile of extra coats and sweatshirts in one corner. My girlfriend and I draped a sheet over our headboard so we wouldn’t have to touch the freezing metal and hung a camping lantern from our out-of-commission ceiling fan. Most of the apartment outside the bedroom was made useless, lost to the cold. We each keep a pile on our nightstand—a hat, gloves, and headlamp—in case we need to get up in the middle of the night and venture outside the bubble of precious heat we’ve created. None of this was comfortable, but it wasn’t deadly. At least not for us.

In Harris County, which houses Houston, at least 4 people are dead from hypothermia as ice and snow covered the streets and temperatures plummeted dangerously low. Counting the surrounding counties, at least 30 people are dead from weather-related incidents, The Washington Post reported on Thursday night. That number is sure to grow as we get a fuller account of the destruction. With each new death, Texans were reminded that asking for the basics was out of bounds. We want our lights to turn on, we want our homes to be habitable, we want our faucets to give us safe water.

The state turned away from us; we turned toward each other. Mutual aid funds populated every major metro area in Texas, giving away money for hotel rooms, food, gas, and the massive energy bills that will follow the disaster—no questions asked. Volunteers with donated water and all-wheel drive helped our elderly, unhoused, and disabled neighbors move to safer places. These groups—Houston’s alone has distributed more than $22,000 to date—became a lifeline.

It’s a beautiful thing born of an ugly thing. We shouldn’t have to donate money to keep us alive because the government is incapable of or indifferent to helping us. But every once in a while, you can see the indifference reveal a deeper contempt. Then-Colorado City Mayor Tim Boyd, in a perfect marriage of content and medium, wrote on Facebook that, “No one owes you are [sic] your family anything; nor is it the local government’s responsibility to support you during trying times like this! … The City and County, along with power providers or any other service owes you NOTHING!.”

Boyd started his tirade with, “Let me hurt some feelings while I have a minute!!” It’s a succinct enough expression of the modern Texas Republican Party’s beliefs as any I’ve seen. They see policies as a way of exacting pain on people they despise. When their cruelty is spelled out plainly, you’re the one who is too sensitive. They could never be the ones in the wrong. The ability to stand by that position is Trumpian, but predated Trump: Never apologize and never retreat.

The reality of a changing climate is that we will only become more reliant on each other, and we must decide what kind of world we’d like to live in as it burns—or freezes. In an interview with Texas Monthly, energy consultant and UT Austin research assistant in smart grid and bulk electricity systems Joshua Rhodes said while it’s theoretically possible that we might have avoided this week’s energy crisis, there’s also tangible reason why it happened: powerful people made choices.

“Could we have built a grid that would have fared better during this time? Of course we could have. But we could also build a car that could survive every crash you could possibly throw at it, but it would be very expensive and not many people would probably be able to afford it,” he explained. “At some point we do a cost-benefit analysis of how much risk we are willing to take. We have never had weather like this thrown at us, so it’s not surprising to me that we don’t have infrastructure that can support it.”

Rhodes continued, “We may decide now as a society that we do, but that’s a conversation we’re going to have to have with our collective self, if you will.”

But until such a time comes—and with the knowledge that the state would not provide aid to those who desperately need it—we planned for the storm to the best of our ability. My girlfriend and I were lucky: We had a well-stocked hurricane kit, snow pants from some camping trips we’d taken, more than enough blankets and coats, non-perishable foods, cash, and every lidded pot filled with water while we had water pressure. We only lost power for 36-hours, and it was after Monday—which was when it got down to 14 degrees.

But your own good luck stops mattering after a while, as your anxiety about your loved ones takes over. My grandparents, both in their 80s, lost power on Monday morning and spent the night huddled in layers in one room of their house. They would continue to do so for the next two days. Those days felt frantic. My texts to my abuela would go through green instead of the usual blue because her phone was off. I had no idea when it would turn back on; I just had to pray.

The closest warming shelter to my grandparents didn’t have transport for the elderly and information felt hard to come by—I still couldn’t figure out if they were open overnight. Joel Osteen had opened his megachurch, but getting them there would require freeway travel, which was itself extremely dangerous.

My parents live just outside of Dallas, near the airport, about five hours north of Houston. North Texas was being hit with much of the same conditions as the south, but was closer to the cold eye of the storm. They’re older, both diabetic. My mother is recovering from surgery. They set themselves up in their living room, next to the fireplace. They live at the base of a valley—all hills, nothing flat. Leaving could be deadly. Maybe they could make it to the Hyatt connected to DFW, but again that required freeway travel. I felt paralyzed: Inaction was the safest course of action.

It was hard to know what to do. We only had access to social media flooded with unverified reporting; checking the homepages of The Houston Chronicle, The Dallas Morning News, and the Texas Tribune grounded us. (It also taught me that I need a solar or hand-crank radio.) Instagram became surprisingly helpful; Austin Fox affiliate morning anchor Leslie Rangel had an incredible rundown of the terrible conditions in central Texas. Chronicle reporters filed an impressive liveblog, seemingly answering every question we had about our pipes and when the weather would let up. Despite trying our best to conserve energy on our phones, it was our only lifeline and our battery banks became precious.

By week’s end, everyone in my family had their power back. Things were thawing. We had been spared. Spared by the fact of enough disposable income to buy those hurricane supplies. By the timing of our power outage. By bodies that were able to carry us down stairs and easily move in the cold. By jobs that shut down for two days and let us focus on surviving.

Not everyone had luck on their side. Texans were already hurting because of the pandemic. At least 41,000 people filed unemployed due to Covid-19 this week. Houston only passed an eviction grace period this week. Plus, to state the obvious, homes in Houston and along the Gulf shores are not meant to protect from this type of winter weather. Even if you were only marginally affected by the pandemic, but lost power in Galveston, you were in real danger.

If I sit with this governmental abandonment too long, it makes me seethe with rage. I feel it radiate at Ted Cruz leaving us for Cancún and John Cornyn’s culture war bullshit when power was already out and Rick Perry saying people would want longer blackouts to stop regulation or Greg Abbott blaming wind power and the not-enacted Green New Deal for the blackouts. I feel this rage at the long line of Republican governors and legislators who value markets over human life.

People across my state are dead. They deserve the truth to be told about their deaths. Their government did not adequately prepare them for a climate-change disaster. Their government did not adequately prepare itself for this climate-change disaster. And there will be more storms. We’ve seen disasters that the state has turned away from, never learned anything like a lesson from the loss of life or the scale of suffering. What’s more upsetting is that Texans who have lived through climate disasters support solutions. In 2020, the University of Houston found that three years after Hurricane Harvey, people whose homes were devastated by the 50-plus inches of rain dumped on southeast Texas overwhelmingly support flood mitigation efforts, but only 52 percent are “somewhat” or “very confident” in local officials to prevent future flooding trauma. Rick Perry doesn’t know anything about his state.

The most frightening part of the experience was coming out from the fog only to realize that the machine to forget was well oiled and running. As the climate crisis worsens, we will continue to see these “500-year” weather events. What happened this week was extraordinary. It was a catastrophe. How we were treated this week was unacceptable. How Texans were treated during Hurricane Harvey was unacceptable— was also a catastrophe. How Puerto Ricans were treated during Maria was unacceptable—another catastrophe. But our political system is built around forgetting, of powerful people who would like us to turn away from the things we’ve lived through—trapped in our homes, shivering—and turn away from each other. I keep hearing that I’m living through extraordinary times, and I guess that’s true. But we know this won’t stay extraordinary for long.

#structural racism

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ghosthunthq · 4 years

Text

Oliver is autistic, I will die on this hill

by @snavej

Noun

hill to die on (plural hills to die on)

(idiomatic) An issue to pursue with wholehearted conviction and/or single-minded focus, with little or no regard to the cost.

X~X~X

And so our story begins…

Okay, so if you’ve been around the fandom on Tumblr/Fanfiction.net, you will probably have seen me write “Oliver is autistic, I will die on this hill” on a post or story. If you have not, then, you have now. Congrats.

I came to this revelation maybe three years ago now. I had been in a discussion with some fandom friends and something in the conversation had made me wonder if Oliver was autistic.

We’ve all seen the cliche representations of autistic people in the media, especially those coded as such without explicit confirmation. For example, Sheldon Cooper from the Big Bang Theory. These characters are often there for comedic value, where we, the audience, laugh at them for their disability. The shows get away with it because they never explicitly state the character is autistic.

I’m getting off track already.

So after the discussion mentioned before, I went away and began my research - to Google! Now, I have to admit, part of my curiosity regarding this matter is because I have been told I write Oliver well. Personally, I feel I write him a little OOC, but I like how I write him so it doesn’t bother me. I write Oliver as a version of myself. So my thought patterns at the time were that if Oliver was autistic, could I be too?

Oh yes, you thought you were just here for an educational piece about autism? Nope, you’re getting the whole damn story as to why I will die on this hill.

So I did my research and I found lists of signs of autism. I devoured internet articles and soon it was all I was interested in. I even bought a book titled ‘Aspergirls’ by Rudy Simone (who is autistic). If any of you read this piece and start wondering if you’re autistic (and you’re female, more on gender later!), I cannot recommend this book highly enough. I literally cried reading it.

The signs!

Okay so what are all these signs, let’s start a list! Autistic people can have:

Rituals that they refuse to change,

Odd or repetitive movements,

Unusual sensory reactions,

Be clumsy or awkward,

Nervous in large social groups,

Have a hard time making friends,

Speak in unusual ways or with an odd tone of voice,

Talk only about themselves/their interests,

Have narrow, often obsessive interests,

Want to be alone, or want to interact but not know how,

Avoid eye contact,

Have a hard time understanding body language,

Have trouble understanding other people’s feelings or talking about their own feelings,

Poor/abnormal posture, often sit on chairs oddly,

Trouble with left, right and other directions,

Large or unique vocabulary,

Lack of organisation,

Intense compassion/empathy,

Intense anger or no anger at all,

Connections with animals,

Difficulty understanding pop culture, styles, trends, etc.

Rigid in their ways,

Easily distressed,

Delayed speech and language,

Lack of imitation of others or imaginative play,

Indifferent to the feelings of others,

Sensitive to light and sound,

Self-stimulatory behaviours (stimming)

Echolalia (repeating or echoing words or phrases)

Unusual emotional responses,

Meltdowns,

Responds adversely to physical affections,

Does not initiate conversation,

Very poor diet,

Frequently walks on tiptoes,

Socially withdrawn/socially awkward,

Self-injurious behaviour,

Makes irrelevant remarks,

Difficulty with abstract language and concepts,

Need for sameness,

Severe upset when routines are disrupted,

Attachment to unusual objects,

Fascination with spinning objects,

Good memory for repeating lists or facts,

Unlikely to discriminate against someone on basis of race/gender/age etc.

Unlikely to give superior status to the wealthy or those high up in an organisation,

Have their own set of values,

Can hyperfocus,

Struggle to separate themselves from their work,

Lack the ability to filter information received,

Alexithymia - the inability to describe emotions in a verbal manner,

Likes patterns, putting things in order,

Often limits diet,

Often wears the same clothes,

Black or white thinking,

Auditory processing disorder…

Okay, I’ll stop there. I could probably go on if I wanted to, because although I’ve written a lot of things there, these are all manifestations of the clinical diagnosis criteria.

X~X~X

Diagnostic Criteria for 299.00 Autism Spectrum Disorder

Persistent deficits in social communication and social interaction across multiple contexts, as manifested by the following, currently or by history (examples are illustrative, not exhaustive; see text):

Deficits in social-emotional reciprocity, ranging, for example, from abnormal social approach and failure of normal back-and-forth conversation; to reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect; to failure to initiate or respond to social interactions.

Deficits in nonverbal communicative behaviours used for social interaction, ranging, for example, from poorly integrated verbal and nonverbal communication; to abnormalities in eye contact and body language or deficits in understanding and use of gestures; to a total lack of facial expressions and nonverbal communication.

Deficits in developing, maintaining, and understand relationships, ranging, for example, from difficulties adjusting behaviour to suit various social contexts; to difficulties in sharing imaginative play or in making friends; to absence of interest in peers.

Specify current severity:

Severity is based on social communication impairments and restricted, repetitive patterns of behaviour.

Restricted, repetitive patterns of behaviour, interests, or activities, as manifested by at least two of the following, currently or by history (examples are illustrative, not exhaustive; see text):

Stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech (e.g., simple motor stereotypes, lining up toys or flipping objects, echolalia, idiosyncratic phrases).

Insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, or ritualized patterns of verbal or nonverbal behaviour (e.g., extreme distress at small changes, difficulties with transitions, rigid thinking patterns, greeting rituals, need to take same route or eat same food every day).

Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (e.g., strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interests).

Hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input or unusual interest in sensory aspects of the environment (e.g. apparent indifference to pain/temperature, adverse response to specific sounds or textures, excessive smelling or touching of objects, visual fascination with lights or movement).

Specify current severity:

Severity is based on social communication impairments and restricted, repetitive patterns of behaviour.

Symptoms must be present in the early developmental period (but may not become fully manifest until social demands exceed limited capacities, or may be masked by learned strategies in later life).

Symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning.

These disturbances are not better explained by intellectual disability (intellectual developmental disorder) or global developmental delay. Intellectual disability and autism spectrum disorder frequently co-occur; to make comorbid diagnoses of autism spectrum disorder and intellectual disability, social communication should be below that expected for general developmental level.

Note: Individuals with a well-established DSM-IV diagnosis of autistic disorder, Asperger’s disorder, or pervasive developmental disorder not otherwise specified should be given the diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder. Individuals who have marked deficits in social communication, but whose symptoms do not otherwise meet criteria for autism spectrum disorder, should be evaluated for social (pragmatic) communication disorder.

Taken from: https://www.cdc.gov/ncbddd/autism/hcp-dsm.html

X~X~X

Back to the story

So I went to my doctor after all of this reading. I was convinced. Nothing had ever made so much sense to me in my entire life as reading about autism.

I was, at this point, what people in the autism community call “self-diagnosed”. Now I was lucky, I could go on to get a “proper” diagnosis. Not everyone is as lucky. Many doctors do not believe that girls/women can be autistic. Many doctors do not believe that ethnic minorities can be autistic. Many doctors do not believe adults can be autistic. In some countries, people do not have free healthcare and so they cannot afford a diagnosis. There are many reasons why people can’t/won’t get diagnosed.

The point I’m trying to make is that if you see someone posting about being self-diagnosed, don’t be all “oh but a doctor hasn’t said it so you’re not”, because that person does not need your doubt and it does not help anyone. Their self-diagnosis helps them to navigate their life and it does not hurt anyone. Honestly, the amount of people that are “wrong” about their self-diagnosis is probably very small, and those that are probably have some other kind of neurodivergent condition such as ADHD.

Anyway, my doctor gave me a form to fill in, a questionnaire. A series of questions aimed very much at the male expression of autism. I felt horrible at the time, because I knew exactly how to answer these questions to fill the boxes required. I knew because I had read so much about autism that I knew what they wanted to hear.

I filled it in honestly. I scored highly enough anyway.

My doctor did not know who to refer me to. She had never had to refer an adult before. She asked around and found out what to do; I got put on a waiting list.

A while later, at work, I found out I could get tested privately and work would pay for it. Oh, how I love my job. I spoke to someone who had been the manager of another employee who had gone through the process. That helped.

I talked to the man who was supposed to be the disability advisor, he made me fill in the same questionnaire that my doctor did. I filled it in again.

I was on another waiting list.

The advisor had also recommended me a book, which I bought and read and hated. The language used very much implied that I would never be ‘great’, just ‘coping’. It was written by a neurotypical person. I told the advisor by email that this book was stupid and damaging. He did not reply.

Months later, the private assessment happened. I spent an entire day with a clinical psychologist and a speech and language therapist. My parents and manager came too. I answered questions, had to explain things to them, made up stories with random objects. My parents, mainly my mother, talked about my childhood.

At the end of it all, they decided I was autistic.

I was ecstatic.

The day before, a person at work said I was a hypochondriac. One of those people who read about conditions on the internet and convince myself that I have them. I still do not talk to that person.

Finally, everything made sense. Finally, I had a reason why people made fun of me for reasons I could not fathom. Finally, my weirdness had a name.

X~X~X

The Gender Issue

So there is a ‘gender issue’ with autism and it’s diagnosis. Everything is aimed at young (white) boys. It’s designed for the stereotype of the young boy who likes to collect trains. And that’s why there are five times as many autistic boys in comparison with girls.

People of colour, women and girls are very often undiagnosed or misdiagnosed.

Generalised anxiety disorder, depression, OCD, social anxiety disorder, panic disorder, various eating disorders, borderline personality disorder, ADHD…

The list goes on.

Now, that’s not to say many girls don’t have these things. Often they do. But often they have those and autism.

I very much doubt there is five times as many autistic boys. I think there are just a hell of a lot of women and girls who are undiagnosed.

Why this disparity? Well, autism presents differently in girls, or perhaps, society sees it differently.

When a young boy is quiet and withdrawn, happy to play by themselves, something is wrong. When a girl is quiet and withdrawn, she’s just shy. There’s also a lot of evidence to suggest that girls are a lot better at masking their autism.

Essentially, due to the societal pressure on young girls, they hide their autism and mimic their peers. That’s why the most common time for a woman to get diagnosed with autism is when she has children of her own and they’re getting diagnosed.

Is it genetic? There’s no strict evidence of an ‘autistic’ gene, I don’t think. But its quite common. When I was getting tested, I gave the previously mentioned book to my mother and said, “Hey, can you read this, I think I have this”. My mother read the book and told me she thought she had given it to me. She got tested two months ago.

I also look at my father and see many of the traits. But he has no interest in getting tested.

If you’re intersted, google “autism in girls” or something similar, there are plenty of resources.

The result

So I have my diagnosis, my work is fully informed. I am now protected by the Disability Act. I can’t use disabled parking spaces, but some autistic people can, if they need it.

What does this mean for me? It means that my employer has to make adjustments for me to make me comfortable for work. Changing the lighting, giving me a quiet place to work, working with me on deadlines and stuff. They know now (officially) that I have issues with auditory processing, and that they should take that into account.

I’m lucky, my employer has been good about this, and it is in their interest to. Autistic people can be an asset to any company. They are often experts in their chosen field and will work solidly on stuff they enjoy.

Lots of autistic people are not as lucky. They are one of the highest unemployed groups. Workplaces are full of unwritten rules that are hard for autistic people. This brings me on to…

Autism Acceptance Month

April is Autism Acceptance Month. You may see this as Autism Awareness Month in some places. But I don’t like that. “Awareness months” and “awareness days” are often reserved for horrible diseases like cancer, for which we want a cure.

There are a lot of resources out there from damaging institutions this month, such as Autism Speaks. They are advocating for a cure and also promote ABA (a type of ‘therapy’ that is disgusting and should not be allowed). If you take anything from all this, please do not support Autism Speaks.

There is no cure for Autism. It is a developmental disorder. It’s not a disease.

If you wanna do something for Autism Acceptance Month, there are some resources here: https://www.autism.org.uk/get-involved/world-autism-awareness-week.aspx

But what about the vaccines?

Of course, I cannot talk about autism without mentioning the vaccines!

In the 90s, about 1 in 150 children were diagnosed with autism, by the early 2000’s, this went up to 1 in 68. One of the big things that had changed in this time was the number of vaccines children had.

There have been many studies regarding autism and vaccines. And there was one that said there was a link between autism and vaccines. In this study, there were 12 subjects.

Now I do statistics for a day job. So I can tell you categorically, that 12 subjects for a study is not enough for decisive proof. The person who did this study was struck off and rightly so.

But the media got hold of this idea.

And so the anti-vaxxers rose up, refusing to vaccinate their children from deadly diseases because obviously, being autistic was worse than being dead.

In summary, vaccinate your children.

Side note, I, as an autistic person, am allowed to make jokes about vaccines. For example, I received some vaccinations before travelling and joked with the nurse that I was ‘topping up my autism’. This is funny because we both knew it was wrong.

‘Autistic person’ vs ‘person with autism’

This one is a tricky one. I’ve seen arguments both ways.

‘Person with autism’ puts the person first, but also makes the autism sound like an accessory.

‘Autistic person’ puts the disability first, but you can’t separate the person from the autism, it’s intrinsic to who they are.

Basically, this is up to the person. If they prefer one way or the other, use it. It’s like pronouns, you use what the person you’re talking about asks you to use.

Personally, I’m not too fussy, but I lean towards ‘autistic person’.

Asperger’s vs Autism

Asperger’s was merged into the general Autism diagnosis criteria a while back. Asperger’s is what is sometimes called ‘high functioning autism’. The autism community do not like the term ‘high functioning’ because it denies aid, in the same way that ‘low functioning’ denies agency. The criteria for ‘low functioning’ is having an IQ under 70. So it’s quite broad.

Also people who have been classified as ‘high functioning’ don’t necessarily function well in everyday life without help.

Also, Hans Asperger’s was a bit of a knobhead, so a lot of people don’t like using his name.

Headcanons

A headcanon is a fan’s personal, idiosyncratic interpretation of canon, such as habits of a character, the backstory of a character, or the nature of relationships between characters. The term comes from the fact that it is the canon that exists in a fan’s head.

So when I say ‘Oliver is autistic’, this is my personal headcanon. Do I want it to become fanon? Yes, of course, I do. In the same way, I love that Yasuhara x Gene has become popular (for which I take full responsibility).

But if you disagree with it, that’s fine. You’re allowed to do that. I will not think any less of you for it. Because at the end of the day, the author has not come out and said ‘Oliver is autistic’.

Personally, as an autistic writer, who has always written some of her characters as autistic, whether she knew it or not, I suspect the author of Ghost Hunt might be an undiagnosed autistic person. Because Oliver is not the only person I recognise traits in… But that’s for another day.

If you only take one thing away from reading all of this, then let it be this:

If you’ve met one autistic person, that’s it. You have met ONE autistic person.

We’re all different, just like everyone else.

And now for what you’ve all been waiting for…

Continued in Part TWO

#Ghost Hunt #oliver davis #GHW2020 #snavej #autism #GHHQ #submission

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drnikolatesla · 5 years

Text

“A thousand other evils might be mentioned, but all put together, in their bearing upon the problem under discussion, they could not equal a single one, the want of food, brought on by poverty, destitution, and famine. Millions of individuals die yearly for want of food, thus keeping down the mass. Even in our enlightened communities, and not withstanding the many charitable efforts, this is still, in all probability, the chief evil. I do not mean here absolute want of food, but want of healthful nutriment.”

“How to provide good and plentiful food is, therefore, a most important question of the day. On the general principles the raising of cattle as a means of providing food is objectionable, because, in the sense interpreted above, it must undoubtedly tend to the addition of mass of a “smaller velocity.” It is certainly preferable to raise vegetables, and I think, therefore, that vegetarianism is a commendable departure from the established barbarous habit. That we can subsist on plant food and perform our work even to advantage is not a theory, but a well-demonstrated fact. Many races living almost exclusively on vegetables are of superior physique and strength. There is no doubt that some plant food, such as oatmeal, is more economical than meat, and superior to it in regard to both mechanical and mental performance. Such food, moreover, taxes our digestive organs decidedly less, and, in making us more contented and sociable, produces an amount of good difficult to estimate. In view of these facts every effort should be made to stop the wanton and cruel slaughter of animals, which must be destructive to our morals. To free ourselves from animal instincts and appetites, which keep us down, we should begin at the very root from which we spring: we should effect a radical reform in the character of the food.”

“There seems to be no philosophical necessity for food. We can conceive of organized beings living without nourishment, and deriving all the energy they need for the performance of their life functions from the ambient medium. In a crystal we have the clear evidence of the existence of a formative life-principle, and though we cannot understand the life of a crystal, it is none the less a living being. There may be, besides crystals, other such individualized, material systems of beings, perhaps of gaseous constitution, or composed of substance still more tenuous. In view of this possibility,—nay, probability, we cannot apodictically deny the existence of organized beings on a planet merely because the conditions on the same are unsuitable for the existence of life as we conceive it. We cannot even, with positive assurance, assert that some of them might not be present here, in this our world, in the very midst of us, for their constitution and life-manifestation may be such that we are unable to perceive them.”

“The production of artificial food as a means for causing an increase of the human mass naturally suggests itself, but a direct attempt of this kind to provide nourishment does not appear to me rational, at least not for the present. Whether we could thrive on such food is very doubtful. We are the result of ages of continuous adaptation, and we cannot radically change without unforeseen and, in all probability, disastrous consequences. So uncertain an experiment should not be tried. By far the best way, it seems to me, to meet the ravages of the evil, would be to find ways of increasing the productivity of the soil. With this object the preservation of forests is of an importance which cannot be overestimated, and in this connection, also, the utilization of water-power for purposes of electrical transmission, dispensing in many ways with the necessity of burning wood, and tending thereby to forest preservation, is to be strongly advocated. But there are limits in the improvement to be effected in this and similar ways.

"To increase materially the productivity of the soil, it must be more effectively fertilized by artificial means. The question of food-production resolves itself, then, into the question how best to fertilize the soil. What it is that made the soil is still a mystery. To explain its origin is probably equivalent to explaining the origin of life itself. The rocks, disintegrated by moisture and heat and wind and weather, were in themselves not capable of maintaining life. Some unexplained condition arose, and some new principle came into effect, and the first layer capable of sustaining low organisms, like mosses was formed. These, by their life and death, added more of the life sustaining quality to the soil, and higher organisms could then subsist, and so on and on, until at last highly developed plant and animal life could flourish. But though the theories are, even now, not in agreement as to how fertilization is effected, it is a fact, only too well ascertained, that the soil cannot indefinitely sustain life, and some way must be found to supply it with the substances which have been abstracted from it by the plants. The chief and most valuable among these substances are compounds of nitrogen, and the cheap production of these is, therefore, the key for the solution of the all-important food problem. Our atmosphere contains an inexhaustible amount of nitrogen, and could we but oxidize it and produce these compounds, an incalculable benefit for mankind would follow.

"Long ago this idea took a powerful hold on the imagination of scientific men, but an efficient means for accomplishing this result could not be devised. The problem was rendered extremely difficult by the extraordinary inertness of the nitrogen, which refuses to combine even with oxygen. But here electricity comes to our aid: the dormant affinities of the element are awakened by an electric current of the proper quality. As a lump of coal which has been in contact with oxygen for centuries without burning will combine with it when once ignited, so nitrogen, excited by electricity, will burn. I did not succeed, however, in producing electrical discharges exciting very effectively the atmospheric nitrogen until a comparatively recent date, although I showed, in May, 1891, in a scientific lecture, a novel form of discharge or electrical flame named "St. Elmo's hotfire," which, besides being capable of generating ozone in abundance, also possessed, as I pointed out on that occasion, distinctly the quality of exciting chemical affinities. This discharge or flame was then only three or four inches long, its chemical action was likewise very feeble, and consequently the process of oxidation of nitrogen was wasteful. How to intensify this action was the question. Evidently electric currents of a peculiar kind had to be produced in order to render the process of nitrogen combustion more efficient.

"The first advance was made in ascertaining that the chemical activity of the discharge was very considerably increased by using currents of extremely high frequency or rate of vibration. This was an important improvement, but practical considerations soon set a definite limit to the progress in this direction. Next, the effects of the electrical pressure of the current impulses, of their wave-form and other characteristic features, were investigated. Then the influence of the atmospheric pressure and temperature and of the presence of water and other bodies was studied, and thus the best conditions for causing the most intense chemical action of the discharge and securing the highest efficiency of the process were gradually ascertained. Naturally, the improvements were not quick in coming; still, little by little, I advanced. The flame grew larger and larger, and its oxidizing action grew more intense. From an insignificant brush-discharge a few inches long it developed into a marvelous electrical phenomenon, a roaring blaze, devouring the nitrogen of the atmosphere and measuring sixty or seventy feet across. Thus slowly, almost imperceptibly, possibility became accomplishment. All is not yet done, by any means, but to what a degree my efforts have been rewarded an idea may be gained from an inspection of Fig. 1 (p. 176), which, with its title, is self explanatory. The flame-like discharge visible is produced by the intanse electrical oscillations which pass through the coil shown, and violently agitate the electrified molecules of the air. By this means a strong affinity is created between the two normally indifferent constituents of the atmosphere, and they combine readily, even if no further provision is made for intensifying the chemical action of the discharge. In the manufacture of nitrogen compounds by this method, of course, every possible means bearing upon the intensity of this action and the efficiency of the process will be taken advantage of, and, besides, special arrangements will be provided for the fixation of the compounds formed, as they are generally unstable, the nitrogen becoming again inert after a little lapse of time. Steam is a simple and effective means for fixing permanently the compounds. The result illustrated makes it practicable to oxidize the atmospheric nitrogen in unlimited quantities, merely by the use of cheap mechanical power and simple electrical apparatus. In this manner many compounds of nitrogen may be manufactured all over the world, at a small cost, and in any desired amount, and by means of these compounds the soil can be fertilized and its productiveness indefinitely increased. An abundance of cheap and healthful food, not artificial, but such as we are accustomed to, may thus be obtained. This new and inexhaustible source of food-supply will be of incalculable benefit to mankind, for it will enormously contribute to the increase of the human mass, and thus add immensely to human energy. Soon, I hope, the world will see the beginning of an industry which, in time to come, will, I believe, be in importance next to that if iron."

–Nikola Tesla

“The Problem of Increasing Human Energy.”Century Illustrated Magazine, June, 1900.

#nikola tesla #science #history #quotes #sociology #poverty #diet #vegetarianism #vegetarian #gmo #gmos #genetically modified food #future #ahead of his time #ahead of our time

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iwritethat · 5 years

Text

Jason Todd: Little Red Riding Hood

A/N: Another Halloween one lovelies!! 🎃

Warnings: Language, mildly suggestive themes

>>>>—————————>

Black Mask was extremely aggravating at this precise moment in time, of course the dealer always was but for Jason, now in particular, he had reached another level.

"Aw, Little Red Riding Hood is off her game." Roman taunted further.

The vigilante shot in frustration, the wistful gun smoke mirroring his anger perfectly - there was a reason for the unusual mockery but Jason hadn't figured it out yet.

"Fuck off old man, I'm not in the mood!"

A sudden whistle rebounded off of the walls, the action seemingly harmless at first glance leading Jason to reposition his twin pistols toward a cornered Black Mask once more wearing a smirk under his helmet.

Although, a low warning growl echoed in the silence drawing his attention and eliciting maniacal laughter from the master who called it - deadly crimson irises sparkling in the moonlight and silky matte black fur flowing with the oversized predators movements. An array of questions and string of curses ravaged Red's mind as it prowled around him, the play on Red Riding Hood making much more sense now faced with the Big Bad Wolf - how Roman Sionis acquired such a creature remaining unknown.

The beast displayed a healing factor, recovering from bullet wounds in record time as well as maintaining fluent speed and agility Jason could barely keep up with. Although, through cunning he was able to shoot overhead wires to send multiple heavy steel poles toppling down on the creature with a pained whine. Without waiting for the wolf to awaken, Red Hood was hunting Roman down to finally track him to his escape helicopter on the roof until holding him at gunpoint that is. However, when you stumbled through the door panting heavily and glaring at Black Mask - the villain found an alternate bargaining chip. A shrill scream escaped your lips once you felt the piercing bullet through your shoulder and caused you to lean against the doorframe holding your injury.

"You're such a dick Roman!" Venom laced your tone, practically spitting his name like the bile he was before fading into unconsciousness.

"Ah ah, now Red Riding Hood... you can kill me, or save the civilian." Black Mask held the upper hand, there is no way Red Hoods conscience would allow him to let an innocent die, you looked rough already with claw gashes decorating your clothing as well as the blood sinking down your torso. Probably a victim of that beast he'd fought earlier, leverage for some addict Roman dealt to who couldn't pay up - you were undeserving of this situation.

You awoke with a deep breathe, immediately sitting upright causing a brief dizzy spell. The surroundings were unfamiliar, various blankets coated your body as well as bandages encircling you waist and shoulder which were briskly removed revealing no signs of injury at all - quirks of a werewolf you suppose. However, such phenomenons would be considered suspicious by even Gotham standards and as a result you rewrapped them just in case.

At that moment a handsome young man strolled into your space, carrying clean bandages and pain killers, the sight surprising to see considering his less than emasculate association with Red Hood you supposed.

"You're up then stranger." Your only response was an acknowledging hum to which he didn't seem to mind. Although as soon a he reached for your wrapping you were quick to stand, backing away with a defensive stance.

"Don't touch me."

"Tch, you took a damn bullet! I’m gonna call the hospital." He chastised, not much care to his tone.

"No! I'm fine, the bandages are fine - thanks and I've gotta go."

"Then, I'm getting you back to wherever you came from or else Mask is just gonna hunt you down again dumbass. Luckily for you that bullet took out whatever device he planted in your shoulder." The stranger sarcastically replied, crossing his arms with an exasperated sigh.

You gently traced your shoulder, knowing he no longer had control over you anymore. "Heh, he has crap aim when he’s panicking and thanks Red but I’ll be doing the hunting.”

"The names Jason." He acted indifferent but you could hear his heartbeat increase.

"Red Hood, Jason - same thing, what would you prefer me to call you? Little Red Riding Hood perhaps?" You gave a mischievous smirk, both scents identical to your finely tuned nose. Jason looked defeated, released a bored sigh and disregarded all pretences.

"Tch. Anyway, Roman’s heading out to Santa Prisca in a few weeks so I’ve got that covered and you can be on your way.”

“Perfect, I owe him a bullet. Don’t even try to argue, I’m both resourceful and strong enough to get there on my own regardless - I also know the Santa Prisca base inside out.” You posed a valid justification, albeit still wasn’t enough for him to trust you but that meant you were on the same page.

“For fucks sake...” Any other time he would’ve left tag alongs behind but for some strange instinctive reason, he didn’t think that’d be an option with you.

It required teamwork, a gathering of intel and resources - some of which you acquired via intimidation, crimson irises and razor fangs were persuasive - not that you allowed your unwilling partner to bear witness to such atrocities. Although you suspected he had suspicions regarding your mysterious uncanny ability to retrieve answers yet chose to ignore it.

In time you found yourselves standing in the mist of Santa Prisca’s dense forestry under a veil of stars, you’d arrived later than expected and despite Jason’s determined nature you’d pestered him enough to let you rest until midnight. Of course at that point, you’d have additional power with the full moon revealing itself.

Unfortunately lighting a campfire left you at risk of being detected at such close proximity to their base, but it wasn’t an issue as your natural body temperature kept you warm and as a result you were curled up at the base of a tree in no time. However, your sleep was disturbed when a sudden rush of heat seeped through your body and upon opening your eyes caught a glimpse of Jason strolling away with a stretch before lying on the ground, arms tucked behind his head and gaze towed at the starry sky. Your brows furrowed, not sure as to why he’d felt the urge to drape his jacket over your sleeping form rather than keep it for himself - besides he needed it more. With a huff, you stood up and walked over to him only to throw it back on his chest.

“What the- it’s called chivalry!” Jason begrudgingly whisper yelled after jumping from the unexpected interruption.

“I can hear your teeth chattering from over there and I can’t sleep so shut up and warm up.” Was your heartless reply, smirking as your friend rolled his eyes but as you went back to your spot, it seemed his temperature hadn’t risen as much as you’d liked.

Again you returned, this time stripping your own jacket which left more of your heated skin exposed and placed it over him before lying against his side, head on his chest and arm laid on his waist - more heat radiating from your body in order to warm him up.

“(Y/n) what the hell are you doing?! I’m fine!” Jason was incredibly tense, edging away from you purely due to shock as he justified himself.

“It’s chivalry or whatever, trust me.” With your quiet but stern counter, he couldn’t deny how addicting your warmth was and despite his reservations his body was attracted to your warmth like a magnet.

Soon enough his heart rate lowered, muscles comfortably relaxing as he’d subconsciously embraced your presence and had in fact drifted off to sleep before you did much to your amusement.

Midnight rolled around, your biological clock waking you and forcing your irises to glow a deep crimson but your movements whilst you sat up stirred Jason, since you’d slipped out of his grip, who caught a glimpse of them as you’d turned away - instantly he’d pulled you back, grasping your jaw to face him only to find your natural eye colour glaring back.

“I sleep with you once and you think you can kiss me whenever you want?”

“I wasn’t gonna - your eyes were - lets just get moving.” He snapped from his thoughts, too flustered to form a coherent sentence and instantly removed himself to find his helmet muttering something under his breath.

Upon entering the base, you found yourselves before Black Mask, unconscious henchmen in your wake thanks to your turbulent teamwork.

"How cute, it took longer than I expected but my little lap dog brought you here anyway. Too bad Red Hood." At his words and beckoning whistle, you stepped toward him as Mask ordered...

Like countless times before, you found your body configuring to its alternative form, silky black fur cascading down your back with a deadly snarl echoing across the island landscape.

"Interesting thing with wolves Hood, they have loyalty. Now kill 'im (Y/n)!" You prowled around Roman, standing beside the man who now held the upper hand with his greatest weapon by his side.

"(Y/n)?!" Jason was unreadable, the helmet making sure of that but you could hear the betrayal in his voice, an underlying tone of hurt accompanied your name whilst he silently pleaded with you. Though your focus was no longer on him, a glare was directed at your tail that appeared to be wagging due to Jason's attention - god no.

At least you could hide a crush when not wolfing out, this was just embarrassing... before anyone could notice the uncharacteristic behaviour you chose to speak, voice an octave lower than your usual one.

"Interesting thing about loyalty Roman, it has to be earned. And the Red Hood has most definitely earned mine... you however? Not so much."

Jason lowered his guns as a scattered Roman tumbled to the floor in a failed attempt to scramble away after you savagely barked at him, a large paw on his chest to pin him in place and pearly incisors centimetres from his terrified face.

“...So do I have to get you a collar now, because, I mean... I will...” The vigilante quipped, no doubt less than decent purposes occupying his mind as you sighed in exasperation, looking up at him with a deadly gaze before walking past and ensuring to swish your oversized tail in his face as you went leaving him to a defeated crime lord.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

By the time you’d morphed back and returned to the balcony in a stolen soldiers jacket and spare bottoms from your supplies you found Mask hung from the roof and gagged for the authorities to collect. Jason had waited for you and started on the path back to where you’d arrived on the island in silence, supposedly neither of you knowing what to say to each now alone. However, you felt at ease considering he hadn’t left without you even if it was mildly awkward.

“So that’s why you were so warm...” His voice was calm but quiet, though his words caused you to look up at him and answer somewhat guiltily.

“Yeah.”

“And the interrogations?”

“Yeah...”

“Hm.” It was simple, Jason still processing the information whilst silence once again took over the two of you as the walk continued. His expression remaining contemplative but accepting since he’d removed his helmet.

"Your eyes are beautiful by the way, I couldn’t say that earlier since you wanted to kiss me and all.” Jason wore a kind smile now, sensing your silent self hatred he’d playfully knocked your arm in order to stir a heartier reply.

"Oh you’re hilarious, how you honour me damned prince of Gotham." And he got one.

“Great to sleep with and funny too, you're the whole package aren't you furball?" It seemed as though the snarky exchanges had returned, bringing with them a sense of reassuring normalcy again.

“You’re just upset that you woke up as the little spoon Red Riding Hood.” You rolled your eyes with a challenging smirk, winking at Jason who only returned the gesture.

“Hey, there’s nothin wrong with that - besides it’s your turn next Big Bad Wolf.”

“Bite me.”

“Just tell me where and how hard, I might surprise you wolfie.” His flirtatious comments left you flushed but hadn’t left you defenceless.

“You can shiver tonight.”

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #dc imagine #dc gets spoopy

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drjoot · 5 years

Text

Autistic Jotaro

Alright so I’m absolutely going to spend too much time on this but here we go.

The formal diagnostic criteria for ASD (autism spectrum disorders) are as follows:

A. Persistent deficits in social communication and social interaction across multiple contexts, as manifested by the following, currently or by history (examples are illustrative, not exhaustive, see text):

1. Deficits in social-emotional reciprocity, ranging, for example, from abnormal social approach and failure of normal back-and-forth conversation; to reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect; to failure to initiate or respond to social interactions.

2. Deficits in nonverbal communicative behaviors used for social interaction, ranging, for example, from poorly integrated verbal and nonverbal communication; to abnormalities in eye contact and body language or deficits in understanding and use of gestures; to a total lack of facial expressions and nonverbal communication.

3. Deficits in developing, maintaining, and understanding relationships, ranging, for example, from difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts; to difficulties in sharing imaginative play or in making friends; to absence of interest in peers.

B. Restricted, repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities, as manifested by at least two of the following, currently or by history (examples are illustrative, not exhaustive; see text):

1. Stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech (e.g., simple motor stereotypies, lining up toys or flipping objects, echolalia, idiosyncratic phrases).

2. Insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, or ritualized patterns or verbal nonverbal behavior (e.g., extreme distress at small changes, difficulties with transitions, rigid thinking patterns, greeting rituals, need to take same route or eat food every day).

3. Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (e.g, strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interest).

4. Hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input or unusual interests in sensory aspects of the environment (e.g., apparent indifference to pain/temperature, adverse response to specific sounds or textures, excessive smelling or touching of objects, visual fascination with lights or movement).

C. Symptoms must be present in the early developmental period (but may not become fully manifest until social demands exceed limited capacities or may be masked by learned strategies in later life).

D. Symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning.

E. These disturbances are not better explained by intellectual disability (intellectual developmental disorder) or global developmental delay. Intellectual disability and autism spectrum disorder frequently co-occur; to make comorbid diagnoses of autism spectrum disorder and intellectual disability, social communication should be below that expected for general developmental level.

If I recall correctly from my last class on the matter, to be officially diagnosed with ASD, a qualified individual has to note at least 2 criteria from sections A and B, and all three criteria stated in C, D and E. I am not in any way qualified to diagnose autism, of course, but I can make some notes and observations based on each of these. Also keep in mind that to ‘qualify’ these traits must be persistent, i.e. not related to a mood (not feeling like talking) or a circumstance, and instead being a constant behaviour of the individual in most or all circumstances. So one-time happenings do not count.

Criteria set A: In regards to social interactions and communication

I don’t think I need to go into much detail for this one, it’s not that difficult to notice that Jotaro doesn’t talk much, talks even less about himself, his interests, and his feelings, and rarely carries a full conversation (especially before part 4). He doesn’t start conversations without a purpose, and he doesn’t carry them any longer than he needs to.

Note in particular, “total lack of facial expression”. While we do note a range of expressions in Jotaro:

Majority of these expressions are very similar in structure. I could probably narrow down the entirety of Jotaro’s expressions to four faces: angry, small smile, what the fuck, and tense. Compare that to, for example, Josuke:

We can also note difficulties in eye contact and body language. Jotaro will fairly regularly tilt his head down and touch his cap, fully blocking any and all eye contact with whoever he’s interacting with. He also looks away quite often when talking to someone, which is played for dramatic effect, but could also very well be an avoidance of eye contact.

As far as body language goes? He pretty much only ever stands one way when he’s not fighting or doing something active with his hands, and that pose has him with his hands either on his hips or in his pockets. Zero gesturing for effect, except when doing cliche things he likely copied from somewhere - pointing at a foe when threatening them, for example. Also, remember when a complete stranger glomped him directly in the chest and he didn’t react physically *at all*?

Oh boy, the list here goes on for ages. You can tell Jotaro cares deeply about the people in his life, like Josuke, Joseph, Holly, Jolyne, Kakyoin, Polnareff, etc., only because of his actions regarding their safety. He rarely, if ever, expresses any emotion or feeling to them at all (the sole exception I can think of is the one time he told Jolyne he cherished her), offers no physical comfort to them, and can come off as not only cold, but downright mean. See: repeatedly calling his mom a bitch and telling her to leave him alone, pushing away her kisses, and then travelling across the entirety of Asia to save her life. See also: never being there for his daughter, barely being home, being emotionally distant from her, then showing up to risk his life for the sake of her safety.

So basically, I think he ticks all three boxes here. Moving on.

Criteria set B: In regards to interests and behaviour

1. Stereotyped or repetitive motor movements, use of objects, or speech (e.g., simple motor stereotypies, lining up toys or flipping objects, echolalia, idiosyncratic phrases).

For those who don’t know, echolalia refers to repeating sounds, phrases, or actions seen in other people or in media. It’s very common for autistic people, especially children, to be much more comfortable mimicking behaviour than ‘creating’ their own. For example, ignoring a question asked of them to instead quote a favourite movie, hum a favourite tune, or copy a common behaviour of an adult or peer.

In terms of repetitive motor movements, Jotaro will often touch his cap, clench his fists/jaw, shut his eyes when frustrated, and so on. Repetitive speech also makes a show, with “yare yare daze”, “ora”, and so on. He’s also very specific with which sounds he uses in his throat to express emotion - note when Polnareff asks the impostor Jotaro, “Since when did you make noises like that?”

I can’t prove echolalia, because I have no access to what kind of media Jotaro was exposed to as a kid or the behaviours those around him frequently exhibited, but I can make some guesses. Now and then he delivers lines or makes poses that he almost certainly saw in some cool action movie. In particular, this one that he does a *lot* of:

Again, I can’t prove most of this because we didn’t see much of Jotaro’s day-to-day life before the Crusade, but we did see a few things. For example, his mother not coming to kiss him on the cheek was concerning enough to him to go back into the house and investigate, because that’s a break to routine. There are a good hundred or more reasons why Holly might have been unable to come and give Jotaro that kiss, including that she just forgot for once, but Jotaro instantly assumed something was wrong. (Which of course it was, but the point still stands.)

He also demands the exact same clothing be made for him again after his original set was ruined, and he refuses to wear anything else, ever. He has specific names for people and will stick to them, never using variations or pet names. His fighting style never changes unless it *has* to for the sake of getting anywhere in the fight. He also has much more of an eye for detail and things being out of place than the rest of the group, see: calling out Enya/Enyaba for knowing his name prematurely, one of his stand abilities being superhuman sight for details, etc.

Also his mum’s cooking is his favourite food, according to Araki, which is an interesting detail. It’s the food he’s eaten at probably every meal in his childhood, or at least most of them. It’s the “right way” for food to be. Or he could just like the way his mum makes rice for no reason except it tastes good. Shrug.

3. Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (e.g, strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interest).

Fish. Jotaro loves fish, and that’s honestly about the only thing we see him express any interest in. We know from Araki that he has a favourite movie and song and all, but he never shows any investment in these things. He’s never played video games before the Crusade, and possibly never does after. We never see him do anything in his downtime that isn’t directly related to fish. We do know he can play poker, and pretty damn well, but even that comes as kind of a surprise when it’s revealed.

Again, fish and water. There’s something oddly different and somehow tactile in the way sea life moves. Not literally tactile, of course, but still. Nothing else moves the way the surface of the ocean does. There’s a coolness to the colour and feel of it all, and any time Jotaro is underwater or near water, you can bet he’ll be sneaking off to look out windows or take in the sea floor scenery. This isn’t a headcanon by the way, it’s done deliberately in the anime (not so much the manga though, apparently). This is making a bit of an assumption, but there are more reasonable things to point out, too; the insistence on his jacket even in the hot weather, his need to keep his hands in his pockets, getting overly annoyed at people chattering around him, etc.

So he pretty much ticks all four boxes here, too, to varying degrees.

Criteria sets C, D and E: regarding severity

C. Symptoms must be present in the early developmental period (but may not become fully manifest until social demands exceed limited capacities or may be masked by learned strategies in later life).

Honestly, we have no way of knowing for this one. We never see Jotaro as a kid and the only time it’s talked about is when Holly says he ‘used to be a good boy’, or something to that effect. I’m going to assume he meets this criteria, but honestly have no idea.

D. Symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning.

See: every relationship Jotaro has ever had.