#i’m actually abnormal about it don’t believe a word i say

[doodlebug-aboo]

i’m still feeling totally normal about the junior year announcement

[abyssruler]

fool’s hope

yandere dottore x gn!reader

character death, mentions of blood, dottore being a bastard, yandere

There was once a clone of his who loved you — genuinely, truly loved you.

You’ve seen him at his most terrifying, seen him grin and cackle as he dissected a live person, even seen him in a quiet and solemn state. You once thought you had seen all his expressions and moods he was capable of showing — but it was the way that clone looked at you with such softness you didn’t know he could possess, touch featherlight as it held you gently. And it was then you realized you’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be touched with kindness.

It made your weak heart beat with newly found hope.

It had the most charming laugh and a smile that could make anyone swoon. He’d always been attractive, eyes gravitating towards him even against their will. But he was also cruel and needlessly condescending. The clone was an anomaly, an error to his calculations that he so highly thought of.

You didn’t care about abnormalities and mistakes, didn’t care that this small slice of happiness would soon be ripped away, because for once in your life, the sight of those red eyes brought a sense of fondness instead of fear and hate.

He killed that clone before it was even two weeks old, watching you cry over its corpse with barely hidden interest shining behind those horrid eyes.

“Would you cry for me if I died?” He asked, more out of his own twisted sense of amusement than any true desire to know the answer. His own way of mocking your grief.

The answer you gave was full of vitriol and loathing.

“Never.”

“You contradict yourself.” He laughed, crossing his arms behind his back and peering down your tear-stricken face. “The clone I had just killed could be, in a sense, considered as ‘me’, no? And if I’m not mistaken, those are tears running down your face. Unless you’re actually crying about getting blood on your clothes, then by all means, you’re welcome to watch as I cut open my ‘self’ to study the lapse in its behaviors.”

You had never wanted to hurt anyone as much as you did then.

Silence reigned over the dimly lit room he called a laboratory, the blood had seeped through your clothes but still, you didn’t say a word. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your composure again.

“Pity,” he finally said after it became clear that you won’t provide the reaction he wanted. He gestured a hand to the corpse of his clone, not sparing it the barest of glances, dismissive even to his own self. You wished he cared as little about you as he did his other halves.

You watched the Fatui grunts haul the body away with a detached feeling, not quite processing it yet so aware of every little detail happening in front of you.

At that moment, you had wondered, a foolish little notion that you couldn’t quite snuff out, what it would have been like had it managed to keep its promise of overthrowing the prime and treating you better than he ever would.

“I realize that, given who I am, such words wouldn’t give you much assurance, let alone evoke an emotion one could akin to happiness—not that I would know, being what I am and what I am not allowed to feel. But when I’m with you, I… I feel as if my mind begins to program itself differently from the way it should. It is confusing, and I’ve never been one to deal with confusion in a healthy manner. I should think it’s beyond me to feel sympathy, let alone this anomaly the signals in my brain are creating, but… it is not something I would consider a mistake. A breakthrough, perhaps, in the loosest sense of the word. I understand now why the prime would rather not deal with these emotions—they are much too tiring—but it brings with it a sense of satisfaction I don’t believe I’ve ever felt before. How strange. You make me feel strange.”

Dottore does not make mistakes — or so you once thought.

He once mentioned how each clone is a fragment of his self, everything they are and ever will be has already been achieved by him.

That is why I am the prime, little one, he told you with a grin that raised the hairs on your skin.

But you did wonder, in a fit of impulsivity and a delusion-spurned thought to imagine a better life for yourself, if somehow a minuscule, almost infinitesimal amount, part of him once felt the same way that clone of his did for you somewhere deep within that heartless cavity he calls a chest.

It remains unclear to this day.

But sometimes you wish he did, if only to see those eyes of his look at you with tenderness and longing just once more.

[ficsilike-reblogged]

A Lonely Heaven

Summary: The five times Robert gave you something and the one time he took. Pairing: Soft Dark!Robert Fischer/F!Reader Word Count: 7.2k A/N: Written for Day Three’s prompt from the Haunted Hoedown Challenge Hosted by inklore and psychedelic-ink. Today’s prompt was “inspired by your favorite Lana del Rey song + yandere.” The song I chose was “Say Yes to Heaven.” I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Gaslighting, isolation, drugging, kidnapping, general unhinged behavior, smut (unprotected sex, female receiving oral, fingering), reader calls him Bobby for reasons, minor character death (not described) ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

Robert just needed a minute. Just a minute to breathe before the next meeting with men and women he’d rather never see again. But he was heir to the empire. He had a reputation to uphold and a company to run.

But still, he just needed a moment.

He slipped into the blessedly empty break room just down the hall and stared at the coffee maker for a moment. He didn’t need coffee. He didn’t need anything that the break room could provide except silence-

“Hey, I’m sorry, can I get to the coffee? If I don’t get my boss a refill, I’m fired.”

Robert turned at the sound of soft if not frazzled voice and saw you. He expected to see you flinch at the sight of him before apologizing—most people did when they spotted him. But not you. There wasn’t an ounce of recognition on your face.

You didn’t know who he was.

Robert stepped out of the way with an apology of his own and you were quick to fill up an abnormally large coffee cup with a faded company logo on the side. You also dumped three things of creamer into it and half a packet—exactly—of sugar. Robert must have been staring because you glanced at him over your shoulder with a small smile. “First day?”

“No. But I don’t think I’ve been in this particular break room before.” It was technically not a lie. He only knew of the room’s existence because he’d been shuffled by it each time he had a meeting in the conference room down the hall. He didn’t have to come in here. People brought him coffee. He didn’t get it himself.

You nodded. “I prefer the one on 12. They have better snacks.” You paused, drumming your fingers against the mug. “You look a little out of it. You okay?”

That was probably the first time this year that someone had asked about him. It was just a simple thing, really. “I’m fine. Thank you.” Your head cocked to the side, like you didn’t believe him but you still held your hand out to him with an offer of your name. Despite the coffee you held, your hand was cold as Robert took it. “I’m Robert.”

Your answering smile twisted behind his ribs. “Anyone ever call you ‘Bobby?’”

A sharp laugh punched out of him and he watched your smile widen. “No. No, never.”

“Well, if I ever see you again, we’ll have to try it out.” Again, you drummed your fingers on the mug. “It was nice to meet you. I hope your day gets better.” Then you were gone and Robert watched your hips sway until you disappeared, unknowingly taking his heart with you.

**1**

You hadn’t been the most sociable person when you took the job at Fischer Morrow. Actually, you could count the friends you’d made on two pathetic fingers and even then you knew they were hardly more than casual acquaintances. Moving to Australia was supposed to be a new start but instead it was the loneliness you had been running from compounded. Sure, you were paid decently. Your apartment was fine. But your boss was a dick and you weren’t even using your degree to fetch coffee and answer a phone.

God, you were lonely.

You picked at your sandwich as you sat in the park just on the opposite side of the street from Fischer Morrow’s building. There was a couple playing with their son under the shade of the tree. There was a small gaggle of women from the accounting department walking together around the perimeter, having traded their sensible heels for trainers. Then there was a small group of teenagers, probably skipping school, a little further into the park. They all looked happy and you continued to pick at your sandwich until it was just a mangle of bread, tomato, and cheese.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Your head snapped to the side to see Robert standing at the edge of the bench you occupied, holding a small paper bag. “O-of course! Please do!” You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Of course, it was an absurdly large building with a matching number of employees. It shouldn’t have been surprising that you didn’t see him again. But you had kept his pretty blue eyes and sharp features in the back of your mind anyway. Your lonely heart leapt when he settled beside you.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile,” he started, pulling a sandwich of his own from the bag.

“They keep me busy. And you? Did you find the good snacks on twelve?” You winced as soon as you asked. Your conversation skills were abysmal. It was honestly surprising that he wanted to sit anywhere near you after your awkward conversation weeks prior but you weren’t about to tell him to go away.

He nodded with a smile. “Yeah, thanks for the tip.”

You smiled, too, but it felt a little stilted and you turned your attention back to your mangled sandwich.

“You’re in IT, aren’t you?”

Your fingers stalled their shredding and you glanced at Robert for a moment. “What gave it away? Most people think I’m in Logistics.”

Robert shrugged but his smile remained. “Do you like what you do?”

You snorted and popped a bit of your sandwich into your mouth. “I got this job because I have a masters degree in my field and I’m fetching coffee and answering phones like a secretary. But it’s fine. It pays the bills.” You grimaced as soon as you finished. You never knew how to say the right thing; it was why you preferred staying quiet. You should know better than to sound ungrateful. “But, um, what about you? Do you like what you do?”

“It pays the bills.”

“What department are you in, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Robert’s sandwich froze just in front of his mouth before he cleared his throat. “I work for the Board.” He then quickly stuffed his sandwich into his mouth.

“Oh, you poor soul. That’s got to be so stressful. No wonder you looked so out of it when we met.” Then it was your turn to freeze again. “That was so rude, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No, no it’s all right. It isn’t great, you’re right. But I’m thankful for it anyway.” He was quiet again as he took another bite and you felt a tiny bit of tension slip from your shoulders. Maybe he was as lonely as you were. “Who’s your supervisor?”

“It’s Reynolds. Why?”

“No reason. He’s the guy with the,” he waved a hand at his neck, “right?”

“Neckbeard. Yeah. That’s him. Very particular about his coffee.”

Robert hummed but didn’t say anything else for a stretched moment. Perhaps he liked the quiet like you, too. “You think they’re skipping class?” He asked, tipping his head toward the teenagers.

You laughed. A big belly laugh. That wasn’t what you were expecting him to say. “Oh, definitely.” And the conversation was easier from that point on. You spoke about your favorite cafe downtown and he suggested a running path he was fond of along the coast after you mentioned that your “favorite” treadmill at your gym broke. Was it earth shattering conversation? No. But it lessened the ache in your chest.

As you packed up your lunches, noting the time and how your lunch hour was nearing its end, Robert turned to you with a small smile on his face. “You know, last time we talked you said something to me.”

You squinted at him, as if that would help you remember, and it did, washing over you with a fresh mortification. “Oh no.”

“I was hoping you’d actually try it out. See if I like it.”

You were about to broil in your skin. You were sure of it. “It was a joke.” (It wasn’t.)

Robert’s obscenely blue eyes didn’t leave your face and he smiled. “Try it anyway.”

You rolled your lips into your mouth for a moment before saying, “thank you for spending lunch with me, Bobby.”

His smile widened a fraction. “I think I like it.”

“Then I’ll keep saying it, if we see each other again.”

His head tilted to the side just the slightest bit and the new angle had the sharp planes of his cheeks growing dark shadows. “We will.” It sounded like a promise before you parted ways as you neared the lobby.

You had a smile on your face for the rest of the day, even when Reynolds berated you about putting too much sugar in his coffee. You didn’t care. Why? Because maybe you made a friend.

Your smile only faltered when you were called into HR the following morning. Had you done something wrong? Had Reynolds really reported you for getting his coffee wrong? But the smile came roaring back when the stern looking man on the other side of the desk said, “Reynolds is no longer with Fischer Morrow. I’m officially offering you his position. We can discuss salary and benefits, of course. And…”

The rest of the conversation was a dull roar in your ears. Of course you would take the position. You couldn’t wait to tell Bobby.

**2**

“I like the new office.”

You leaned to the side, tearing your gaze away from your computer screen, just enough to see Bobby walk into your office with something tucked beneath his arm. You were quick to stand and welcome him in before glancing at the clock and gasping. “It is nearly midnight! What’re you still doing here?”

His dark brow arched as he moved you both further into your office with a hand on your lower back. “I could ask you the same thing, you know.”

You chuckled nervously, wiping a hand over your mouth. “Um, well, with the reshuffling of the department, some of the tickets fell through the cracks. I’m just making sure no one down here gets in trouble right when I’ve taken this job. Wouldn’t be a good look.” You leaned against the leather couch as he looked around your office. It was nice, truly. You could see your park out of the window and you had enough room to hang a white board so you could work through problems on your own, too. But it had taken a week for you to get moved in after your impromptu promotion and were still getting settled. It was surprising that Bobby knew about your new office at all but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe he learned about it from the board meetings he had to sit in on.

He held out what was in his hand and you gasped when you realized that it was a bottle of exceedingly expensive champagne. “It is just a little something to say congratulations on the promotion.”

That single bottle could pay for several months of your rent. “Oh, this is too much, I couldn’t-”

But he still pushed it into your grasp with a shake of his head. “I insist. You’ve more than earned it and you’re obviously taking your new duties seriously.”

You turned the heavy bottle over in your hand as you bit your lip. “Well, if you insist.”

“I do,” he said with another smile.

“Then I must insist that you share a glass with me. Deal?”

There was something in Robert’s gaze that had you nearly shivering. It was too heated, too calculating. But as soon as you saw it, it was gone and he was smiling again. “Deal.”

You handed the bottle back to him. “Can you open it for me? I’ll grab glasses from the break room.”

You heard the pop of the bottle as you hurried down the hall. When you found no clean glasses, you settled for two mugs and hoped that you wouldn’t offend him with the choice. And it seemed that your trepidation was unfounded because he laughed as he spotted them and then poured you both a large serving. He held out his mug toward you. “Cheers, to you and your new job.”

“Cheers!” You clinked your mug against his with a laugh before taking a sip. The champagne tasted expensive and bubbled all the way down. You had to “Thank you so much. This was really kind of you, Bobby.”

He waved it away. “I’m sorry I didn’t manage to swing by earlier.”

“No need to apologize,” you said after taking another sip. “I know the big wigs keep you busy. I think you’re the only person who has actually congratulated me, anyway. So, this means a lot. Thank you, truly.”

He looked at you over the edge of his mug as he took a sip, too. “Well, they don’t know what they’re missing.”

You bit your lip–a terrible habit you were only now realizing how often you did it around him. “I kinda like it just being us anyway. I get nervous around too many people.”

“I don’t mind not sharing you.”

You laughed.

**3**

It was a little strange, how long it took you to realize that you only saw Bobby while you were alone at work. It was like he only appeared when everyone else was gone for the day or you were in your little corner of the park for lunch. You didn’t mind it, really. But your friendship seemed tinged with secrecy. You followed his lead and kept the details to a minimum when anyone asked about who you were having lunch with or who your late night meetings were with. “Oh, just my friend Bobby.” You also tried to ignore that you didn’t know many things about him, including his last name. You weren’t about to ask though, afraid that you’d ask something he didn’t want to divulge and he’d leave you alone.

You sent a smile to your assistant from across the room when she locked eyes with you. She waved when you raised your half-filled champagne flute in her direction, silently telling her to enjoy the holiday party. She was new and lovely and so helpful. She was also overjoyed when you actually let her help with the work your department handled. She also teased you goodnaturedly whenever you would go have lunch with Bobby at the park and asked her to hold your calls for the hour. “Can’t hide him from me forever, you know. I’ll figure out who this man is!”

You glanced down at your watch. It was a quarter to eight. You’d been here for a solid two hours and talked to half a dozen people who really only wanted to double check that their tickets would be resolved before Morning. It was fine–it seemed like most everyone still pretended you didn’t exist. Maybe they’d heard about how awkward you were, or they were wagering about how you got Reynolds’ job. Whatever. At least you got to attend the party–the last time you attempted to do so, Reynolds had you running around the city to grab the gifts he “forgot” to pick up after ordering so he could give them to the rest of the IT team before the end of the party (you did not receive one).

Staying until nine would be acceptable, right? You showed your face, thanked the catering team for their hard work, and watched the party slowly get rowdier at the hours trickled by. Then, you could be asleep before 10 and finally try that running route Bobby mentioned tomorrow morning.

Solid plan, right?

“I was hoping I’d find you here.”

You turned, already smiling, to see Robert leaning against one of the pillars of the hotel’s ballroom, nearly hidden in shadow. “I didn’t think you’d be attending. I thought the big wigs would be having their own party.”

“They are,” he said with a nod. “I escaped.”

You frowned at that, anxiety gnawing at your ribs. “I don’t want you to get in trouble, Bobby.”

His hand gently skirted up your arm and you tried to ignore how he left goosebumps in his wake as his long fingers pressed like firebrands into your skin. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

This was a new habit of his: touching you. You never minded. You had gone so long without more than a friendly pat to the shoulder or a brief handshake that you nearly cried the first time you felt Robert’s fingers trailing along your spine on the bench you still shared at lunch. “Promise?”

“I swear.” His blue eyes flashed with that strange gleam again–after all these weeks you still couldn’t decipher it. “But, I do have ulterior motives.”

“Oh?”

“I got you a present.”

Your grip immediately tightened on your champagne. Shit. “I-I didn’t know we were going to exchange gifts. I-”

“I am not expecting anything in return,” he said, thumb swiping against your arm with a smile. “I just saw it and thought of you.”

“Bobby. You know I’m going to have to take you to lunch or something as a thank you and then still give you a present. I feel awful.”

His grip tightened just a fraction as he shook his head. “Don’t. I actually get more joy out of giving gifts than receiving them.”

“Well, that’s too bad because I’m the same. You’re not getting out of this.”

“We can debate this later.” He pulled the flute from your hand and drained it before grimacing as you laughed. “The stuff I got you was much better. C’mon, I don’t want everyone else to see it.” He then set the empty glass on the nearest table and tangled your fingers together to lead you out of the ballroom and into one of the unlit side rooms. It was filled with folded tables and rows of unused banquet chairs but you could still hear the music coming through the doors. He only let go of your hand when he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a velvet box with a distinctive HW logo on the lid.

“Bobby…” There was no way you could afford something like that. How were you supposed to reciprocate?

“Open it.” He gently pushed it into your hand and nodded with a smile when you glanced at him again.

With shaking fingers, you did and gasped when you saw the necklace carefully draped across the velvet padding. On a delicate platinum chain was a diamond pendant. Well, it was several diamonds set to look like a flower. It was the most beautiful necklace you’ve ever seen and probably the most expensive you’ve ever held. “I don’t…I don’t know if I can accept this.”

Robert stepped closer, expensive shoes knocking into yours. His cologne, leather and musk and money, slowly filled your every breath as his hands once again found your arms. “You being in my life has been my lone bright spot in a long time. This necklace is just a fraction of what I owe you, all right?”

“You don’t owe me anything, Bobby. I should actually be thanking you. You have been my truest friend. I don’t know what I would do without you.” You were telling the truth–he was your closest friend. Your only friend, if you were being completely honest with yourself. “This is-this is still too much.”

You tried to hand it back but he only pulled the necklace from its hooks and swept around to stand at your back. In one fluid motion, he was fastening it around your neck and his fingers trailed down your arms. “It suits you.”

You looked down at the necklace and a shaky sigh pushed through you. “Fine. You win this round.” When you turned to look at him, you were rewarded with another one of his smiles. “Don’t think I won’t try to pay you back.”

A new song started, something slow and soft, and Robert turned his head to hear it better for a moment before looking at you again. “Well, as a start, would you like to dance with me?”

“Here?” You asked, a giggle coloring your tone.

“Yeah. Just us.” He held out a hand, long fingers angled toward you.

This felt like a step toward something new. Something different than the quiet friendship you’d carefully protected. It would be a lie to say that you hadn’t thought of him in that way–he was beautiful. And kind to you. And funny. So, you put your hand in his and laughed as he hauled you close. His other arm wrapped tightly around your back as he held your hand close to his chest and started to lead you in a dance that had your heart racing despite the slow movements.

Without even thinking, your other hand inched its way up his arm to settle at the nape of his neck and your fingers absentmindedly pushed through his hair. “Thank you, Bobby. For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out. I promise.”

**4**

This was embarrassing.

So embarrassing.

How did you not connect the dots? Your Bobby was Robert fucking Fischer. Successor to the Fischer Morrow empire. You had been palling around with a billionaire heir apparent. You had complained about how the board was fucking up to him. You had said that you couldn’t imagine being a Fischer because, “it just seems miserable.” You had literally said you felt bad for Maurice’s son because “that old man seems like an asshole.”

Wonderful.

Fantastic.

You wanted to walk out into the ocean and swim to the nearest uninhabited island to escape your shame. But you couldn’t because you were watching Robert give a speech to the entirety of Fischer Morrow about the future of the company because his father’s health had taken a sharp decline in the last handful of weeks. You had tucked yourself into the back of the assembled crowd, wishing you had just watched it online in your office instead. How could you miss it? His suits were tailored and designer. He was always perfectly put together. You had once vaguely recognized the Hermès logo on his watch and had thought it had been a holiday gift from the board.

He’d probably bought it on a whim–the tens of thousands it cost wasn’t even a drop in the bucket to him.

Robert finished his speech and nodded his head in response to the applause he earned before stepping away from the podium so CFO could take over, giving further explanation to the expansion planned for Fischer Morrow. You didn’t hear any of it. You were too focused on Robert moving at the edges of the crowd.

Right toward you.

Your fingers fiddled mindlessly with the diamond pendant around your throat. You had worn it every day since he had given it to you. You should have known better.

Before you could even think to do anything at all, Robert’s fingers were circling around your wrist and you were being pulled out of the room. He was quiet as he led you into an empty conference room and shut the door with a soft snap as soon as you were inside.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, tugging your arm out of his grip and folding your arms over your stomach protectively. “I’m sorry I said all those things.”

“What?” His brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“All…all the things I said about the company, about your father-”

“They needed to be said. I like that you felt comfortable enough to say that to me.”

You scrubbed a hand over your mouth as you started to pace around the table, a million and one thoughts racing through your brain and all of them landed on one conclusion. “Was this just some game? To see what the little worker bee thought of the hive?”

A short breath pushed out of him as he rounded the conference table and grabbed at your hands again to pull you to a stop. Your poor heart hiccuped when he laced your fingers together. “It was never a game. I sought you out because you treated me like I was my own person instead of someone who only stood in my father’s shadow. You saw me, not my last name.”

“Robert-”

His grip tightened, near desperate. “No. No, I’m Bobby to you, remember?”

“I never would have called you that if I had known who you are.” The words were small, as small as you felt in his presence now. But still, you couldn’t pull away from him.

“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. I’m still your Bobby. Nothing’s changed.” His voice was soft. Almost pleading. It cracked at something behind your ribs you had tried to ignore for the sake of the friendship.

“Everything’s changed! You are so far up the corporate ladder above me I shouldn’t even be on your radar.” You finally pulled your hands from his and hated the look in his clear blue eyes. It was unbidden hurt. But your mind jumped to something else. “You had Reynolds fired.”

Robert’s answering silence was answer enough.

“God. I didn’t even earn this position did I? You just felt bad for the stupid, lonely girl in the park-”

Robert was on you in a flash, crowding you against the table without even needing to touch you. “You earned it. I looked into your work history. I saw your credentials. Reynolds knew you were better suited to his job and stepped all over you because of it. I only gave you what you deserved.”

“So, you admit it-”

“I admit that you were better suited. I admit that your department is better for it, too. I admit that I did it because I just wanted to see you smile again.”

Your next breath stalled in your throat and you hated that you felt your chin wobble. What was he saying? “Robert-”

“And it wasn’t pity. It was selfish of me. I wanted to see you smile. I wanted to give you something no one else could. So I did.” Slowly, so slowly, his hands skirted a familiar path up your arms until he was cupping the back of your head and pressing the pads of his thumbs beneath the hinge of your jaw. You could feel each breath he took against the sensitive skin of your lips. “I want to give you everything because you have given me more than I could ever repay. You were lonely. So was I. And we found each other, doesn’t that still matter?”

“I-”

“Let me be your Bobby again. Nothing’s changed, I promise.”

You searched his perfect blue eyes and wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that he felt what you did. That it was okay to feel this, that it was okay to keep him tucked in the confines of your heart where he had burrowed. “You know this has changed, Bobby.” You watched his shoulders sag in relief at the sound of the nickname. “You know it.”

He agreed, nodding just once. “I can’t hide it anymore. You’re right. But I’m still the man sitting next to you on the bench. I’m still sipping champagne out of mugs with you at midnight. I’m still dancing with you in empty rooms. And I’m hoping all that I am, all the charade and everything behind it, is enough for you. I am asking you to have me because of it all, in spite of it all.”

“What will I be to you?” You asked, your voice little more than a whisper.

Robert paused and you watched his pupils start to blow, black eating blue. “You’d be mine.” And then he was kissing you, plush mouth pressing against yours and stealing your next breath. Your hands scrambled to find purchase in the fine fabric of his suit jacket as he hauled you closer, like he was trying to devour you.

You would happily let him.

When he pressed at the seam of your lips, you readily gave in and let him lick into your mouth, searching and wanting. One of his hands fell to your hip as he swallowed a whine building in your throat and he hauled you onto the edge of the table, knocking your legs apart so he could slot himself between them, like he’d always meant to be there.

Maybe he was. Maybe this was inevitable. It certainly felt like it.

Your shaking hands pushed at his jacket and he hurriedly shrugged it off, never moving his mouth from yours and not caring when it hit the floor. “So fucking perfect,” he murmured against your kiss-bitten lips. “And all mine.”

“And you’re mine,” you whispered in return, tugging at his tie next.

A sharp knock at the door halted your next breath. Robert froze, too, lips still pressed to yours.

“Mister Fischer, you’re needed upstairs,” came a stressed, tinny from the other side.

Then you were giggling against him, feeling like a teenager, and you moved to press your face to his shoulder to try to quiet the noise. But then he was laughing, too, and stealing another kiss. “Let’s get out of here.”

**5**

Robert’s father was dying.

There was no more denying it. You watched Robert waffle between heartbreak and resignation and tried to help him through it all, even though what he was feeling was foreign to you. You’d been alone your entire life, growing up at an overrun group home for kids who couldn’t find a foster family to take them and then shuffling from empty dorm room to empty apartment after aging out. But still, you let him burrow his head into your chest when he needed just the world to be quiet. It had been only a handful of weeks since he’d kissed you, asking you to take him for all that he was, but it felt like you had been with him for years, settling into a domestic routine that felt like something out of a romance novel. Something you had only ever wished you could have. You just wished you could ease the ache he was fighting.

You were in his office, the rest of the building having long been deserted at the end of the work day, pushing your fingers through his hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Tell me what you need,” you murmured.

“I just need you.” His words vibrated as he spoke them into the fabric of your shirt.

“Bobby,” you started, pressing your hands beneath his chin so he looked up at you. “I am always going to be here, okay? But let me lighten your load. Want me to grab dinner so we can try to knock out some of that paperwork Browning saddled you with?” You smoothed your finger over one of his eyebrows and watched his eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“He means well. He wants me to really know what I’m doing before I officially take the reins.”

“I think he’s being lazy and then schmoozing the rest of the board while you’re in here, working your fingers to the bone,” you said with a smile to try to lessen the blow because you knew how much his ‘uncle’ Peter meant to him. You, however, thought he was a snake.

Robert was quiet as he looked up at you and you felt him squeeze you a little tighter before he stood and pressed a firm kiss to your mouth. “I have a better idea.”

“What could possibly be better than shitty takeout and monotonous paperwork?” You teased, earning a pinch to your side.

“How about you, me, and a bottle of that champagne you like and we just lock ourselves away at my house for the weekend?”

Your agreement was on the tip of your tongue. You could feel it. But he’d played this card before. “You’re going to say ‘after I let you finish this paperwork,’ aren’t you?”

His smile was tired as he danced his fingers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You’re not getting out of this, Bobby. Let me help you.” The next noise out of you was an undignified squeak as he grabbed at your hips and hoisted you onto the top of his desk. “What’re you doing?”

“Convincing you to let me do my work.”

“It is Browning’s wor-” Your words halted when his warm hands slipped beneath the hem of your skirt and deftly pushed it up to your waist, exposing your silk stockings and lace garter belt. “You’re fighting dirty.”

Robert only smirked and sank back to his knees as he pulled your underwear down in one swift motion. He licked a bold stripe up your folds that had your head immediately tilting back with a gasp. Again and again, he did it until he closed his warm, wet mouth around your clit and sucked until you were keening, sinking your fingers into his hair again. He always knew just how to turn your spine to jelly with a few flicks of his tongue but his real talent was-

“Oh my god!”

Robert sank his teeth into the dough of your thigh as his long fingers slid into your wet heat and easily found that spot inside you that had sparks bursting behind your eyes. If your mind was capable of doing more than pleading pleasepleasepleaseBobbyplease, you may have felt his lips press a smile into your thigh before his mouth descended on you again, working in tandem with his excruciatingly wonderful fingers.

Your thighs clamped around his head but Robert was undeterred and kept licking and sucking and pushing. Wet, sloppy noises filled the air, punctuated by your whimpers and pleas, until you were crying out with your abrupt release and your entire body felt like you’d been dipped in molten heat that fizzled down to your fingers. You collapsed onto the desk in a heap, thighs sagging open as Robert gave a few last kitten licks to your clit until you pushed him away with a whine. When he pulled his fingers out, you could feel your slick puddling below you and you spotted a damp spot on the cuff of his shirt. Damn.

Robert, however, was unfazed and licked his fingers clean as you tried and failed to catch your breath.

“I know just how to get you to cooperate.” His fingers danced over your thighs, still shaking with aftershocks. “Look at you now. All soft and compliant.”

“Not my fault,” you said between labored breaths. “You don’t fight fair.”

Robert smiled, all teeth. “Not with you.”

**+1**

You hadn’t slept on the flight to Los Angeles. Sure, the first class seat was comfortable and food was delicious, but you weren't able to get comfortable. You knew tht Robert had said you didn’t need to come to the funeral but you weren’t about to let him go through this alone and had used the card he had put in your name to book the next flight out to be at his side.

A chauffeur was waiting for you when you landed and whisked you away to the gated Fischer mansion in one of the more exclusive enclaves outside the city. You’d been to Robert’s penthouse a few blocks from Fischer Morrow. He’d offered to let you use his Venice apartment when you offhandedly mentioned needing a vacation but also told you that his family owned an entire island near St. Barts if you wanted something a little more private. But this mansion was truly something else. Perhaps a better term to use would be Manor or Palace. You thanked the chauffeur as he handed you your single bag and told you that ‘Mister Fischer’ was waiting for you inside.

Your heels clicked against the solid piece of marble of the entryway but you hardly noticed when the butler (oh, you hoped you were using the right term) took your bag and told you that Robert was waiting for you in the library. Of course there was a library. You followed his directions and pushed the door open, unsurprised with its silence or its wait.

Robert was leaning against the fireplace mantle, nursing a glass of cognac. The crystal clacked as he set it down when he spotted you. You were quick to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him as he pulled you tight against his chest. The pair of you was quiet for a moment as you tried to press every ounce of love you had into him.

“Tell me what you need. I’m here for you.”

Robert’s next breath rumbled through him and he pulled you even tighter. “Just need you.”

“You have me.”

He was quiet again for just a moment. “I’m dissolving the company.”

You went to pull back but he held firm. “What?”

“I’m going to build something better. I don’t want to be a miserable old man like him. I don’t want to devote my life to a company when I have a family who needs me.”

“A family?” You prodded softly.

“I want a family with you. I want it all with you.”

The simple words had tears forming in your eyes and you just held him tighter. “I want that, too.” You pulled back, finally able to do so when his grip loosened, and pressed a hand to his cheek. “We can talk more about it after the funeral, okay? Emotions are running high right now. I don’t want you to think that you have to make any big decisions immediately. I’m not going anywhere.”

Robert’s eyes searched for something in your face but he seemed to find what he wanted as he smiled. “I know.”

You stood at Robert’s side during the wake and funeral and tried to keep him out of the spotlight when the photogs descended on him before the reception. He held your hand in the back of the limousine that took you back to the house after the coffin was buried and didn’t let go until he was pressing you down into his bed.

You sighed as he sank into you, hot and thick. He was always so good to you. Always stuffed you full and left you gasping. Every drag and pull of him was sending new sparks up your spine and you clung to him as he dragged you closer to euphoria. “Take what you need, Bobby,” you whimpered. “Take it.”

And he did. His hips snapped to yours, hard and strong, as his hands pressed you down into the mattress until you were only able to hold onto him, letting out choked whines and whimpers into the flushed skin of his neck.

“You’re mine,” he said, words in time with each thrust.

You could feel him in your throat.

“Yours.”

Robert bared his teeth and the next thrusts knocked the air from your lungs and you wailed as you felt him come, warmth blooming and spilling. His deft fingers found your clit and rubbed vicious circles until you were keening with your own release that he swallowed with a kiss that was all teeth and tongue.

Both of you were quiet as he led you to the bath and filled it with near-scalding water and some sort of floral oils. He held you tight against his chest again and you tried not to be embarrassed when he sent one of the (many) maids to fetch the bottle of champagne he’d apparently set out for this moment. Realizing that it was the same champagne from that night in your office all those months ago did make you smile. Robert turned and poured two glasses and pressed one into your hand. You settled back against his chest and sipped, frowning when it didn’t quite taste the same. Maybe it was a different year. Oh well.

By the time you finished your glass, you were exhausted and blamed the sex and hot water. “Take me to bed, Bobby?”

He wiped you down with a warmed towel and wrapped you up in a plush robe before leading you back to bed that now had new sheets. You were too tired to care about someone being that aware of your bedroom activities. You’d be back in Australia soon enough anyway.

Your eyelids were fighting to stay open by the time your head hit the pillow and Robert settled beside you. His warm hand cupped your cheek and his thumb smoothed a gentle arc beneath your eye. “My lonely girl.”

“Yours,” you mumbled, eyes closing.

“Mine.”

You woke the next morning with a raging headache and a strange cottony feeling behind your tongue. Robert wasn’t beside you and you assumed he was probably already downstairs, eating breakfast and answering emails. You would have to convince him to take the day off.

Work could wait.

You walked to the closet in search of your bag and…couldn’t find it.

Your purse was missing from where you had left it on the bedside chair, too.

Your passport wasn’t in the lockbox.

“Bobby?” You called out as you walked down the hall, trepidation with every step. Something was wrong. “Bobby?”

The house was silent. Unnervingly so. You could almost hear the blood roaring in your ears. You were almost relieved when you spotted the butler near the front door. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you so early in the morning, but do you happen to know if one of the maids, um, moved my stuff? I can’t seem to find anything.”

The butler nodded, quick and sharp. “Mister Fischer has made sure everything you will need is delivered by noon. I will have the maids bring it to your room when it arrives.”

That…that didn’t make any sense. “I…have you seen Robert?” You asked, just wanting to see a familiar face. Your Bobby.

“He’s returned to Australia, miss.”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. “What?”

“He said he left a note in the bedroom explaining the situation.”

That was dismissal enough and you turned and walked back to the room, metaphorical tail tucked between your legs. You did find the note and braced for an awkward break up or something of that ilk but what you found instead had your veins turning to ice.

I’ll be back for you. We can begin our lives together as soon as I finish dealing with the board. You’ll want for nothing, I’ve made sure of it. And you can finally settle into the life I’ve always wanted to give you. Learn the house. Pick out a nursery.

This had to be a joke, right?

Right?

But the windows were on an alarm system and a man with a gun would yank you back into the room before you could even get halfway out. The doors were guarded. The landline didn’t work. The computer in the office didn’t connect to the internet.

You were alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone.

Alone until Robert came back three weeks later and placed a diamond ring on your finger as he kissed away your tears. You weren’t sure if you were crying out of anger or relief to finally have him back.

“Why’d you do this, Bobby?” You whispered into his chest as he held you close. You didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“Because you’re mine.”

A/N: please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[yooils]

lightweight . drunk!isagi x reader. fluff. accidental proposal. short blurb + extremely forced plot.

— ISAGI YOICHI is a lightweight.

it’s a truth acknowledged by everyone close with him, really, with the way he begins his flowery proses after a drink or two– followed by a gradual descent to an emotional wreck; usually accompanied with an abundance of impulsive decisions and a self depreciating monologue of his life.

but in spite of that, he knows how to handle himself 90% of the time. (the remaining 10% is left unmentioned by all, regardless of the copious amounts of black-mail material some of his teammates possess.)

so naturally, the first time you see yoichi have an emotional breakdown in public is during a team get-together! he’s half on his knees with an abnormally flushed complexion; his eyes are starting to water from the reverie he’s found himself in, and his throat is constricted with hiccups. you've been so-called paged by his colleagues– only to find that the emergency they had mentioned afore to be your drunk boyfriend.

“i just want you to know that i love you.” is the first thing that comes out of isagi's mouth when he catches sight of you entering the bar his team had booked for the night.

the collective wolf whistles from his teammates would have portrayed the unfolding scene to be akin to an extremely romantic (read: corny) scene of a movie, if it wasn't for the uncharacteristically delirious look in your boyfriend’s eyes.

“my affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this. i just want you to know that i’m pregnant, and you’re the baby. will you marry me?”

(a few feet away, rin spits out his drink, outraged at the sheer blasphemy of one of his favourite books and movies. nagi's recording next to him, half-asleep yet still giggling at his friend's drunken antics.)

you love yoichi too, you really do– but you have to run through the list of things you love about him just to keep yourself from strangling him to the brink of unconsciousness so he stops talking.

– he's cute. he's only a little bit annoying sometimes. he does the laundry properly. he just confessed that he loved you amidst his drunken stupor even though you've never said it to each other directly before in person– and then proposed to you. and he's hot.

finally forfeiting to his boyish, drunken charms (and having had enough public humiliation for today), you find yourself and your extremely drunk boyfriend in the middle of the parking lot; with you holding him by his coat so he doesn’t escape, and him squirming around with airy sounds of discomfort which you had opted to ignore.

isagi’s leaning in close, breath reeking of alcohol and hands fumbling with his seatbelt clumsily.

“psst.. don’t tell anyone, but i’m gonna marry you one day.”

the pause in the car is deafening.

you furrow your eyebrows. he obliviously leans his cheek against the car window, unbothered by the sheer weight that his words had carried.

“wait, you don’t want other people to find out that you’re going to propose to me, so you tell the person you’re actually proposing to?”

his drunk gasp speaks volumes to you. “oh no, did i say that out loud? am i being kidnapped? where am i? is the world finally ending? but i still haven’t told (name) that i loved them…”

(okay, maybe he’s a little more stupid when he’s drunk, but you’ve grown to become a believer in the concept that drunken words are sober thoughts in the last hour. you hope.)

isagi’s eyes melt into something akin pools of sapphire stones under the lamppost-lit light. it’s been your favourite colour from the moment you met him.

“yoichi, why are you sniffing me?”

you amusedly ask, finding minor entertainment in his actions.

he’s half slumped on you by the time you stop the car by his apartment– and you realise that there’s no way of getting out of your vehicle without damaging 1.) your spine 2.) your arms and 3.) his dignity. (which really is already ruined, objectively, from the amount of second-hand embarrassment you’ve faced tonight.

“don’t wanna leave you.. smells like home..” he almost-incoherently mumbles, and you impulsively have half a mind to keep him forever-intoxicated because of how cute, despite tedious he’s become.

as a relatively simple man, isagi has always been subjected to a desire for more; especially when it came to football.

(but you, he thinks, will always be more than enough for him. and he hopes he’s enough for you too, even in his drunken haze, because he doesn’t want to let you out of his grasps for even a second).

the way you stroke his hair has his mind collapsing into a puddle of melted goo even in the air-conditioned car. you’ve rewritten his brain chemistry to make yourself the only pearl in his universe composed of mostly football, and in every life, he would let you break his heart over and over again.

once you realise that he's stopped his drunken ramblings and fumbling, the panic finally kicks in.

"yoichi, are you sleeping? we're still in the car park! i can't get out with you laid on me!"

(the next morning, he apologises after a much needed hangover pill and a reminder of what happened last night, sent to him in the form of a video by nagi.

you don't tell him that you've already seen the ring in his sock drawer.)

8.12.23

[georgiapeach30513]

Closer to Heaven and Closer to You, Part 12

Summary:  And baby Drysdale is a….

Pairings:  Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating:  Mature

Warnings:  explicit language, complications with baby Drysdale, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  6.5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Alright, Ms. Sinclair, hop onto the table,” Ransom hates hearing your current last name.  It was the only thing that pained him about getting pregnant before you were married.  Hearing the doctor call you Ms. Sinclair, while baby Drysdale was swimming around in your belly.  

“So, I know that you two have opted for a blood test to determine the sex of the baby, but let’s have a little look at your baby, shall we?” Ransom lowers his head next to yours.  Gazing up at the monitor while the doctor fishes around looking for the sweet bean, and you give his pretty cheek a kiss before looking with him.  Being able to view the baby, and that sweet man giggles.  Actually giggles.  Airy giggles at that.  

Ransom gives your hand a little squeeze.  You are excited, but hearing, seeing, and feeling his excitement was even better.  “Alright, little one, show us what we want to see,” he taps on your belly a bit, getting frustrated with the lack of visibility, “You know, usually stubborn ones like this, and whose heartbeat is so fast, we have little girls.”

“Oh, a girl,” Ransom sighs, leaning in for a quick peck on your lips.

“Yes, but we’re going to get your blood drawn.  I’m not saying you’re having a girl for certain.”

“When,” you look up at your fiance, and then back at the doctor.  The wedding was days away, but this is something that was bothering you.  You look down at your stomach, and towards the doctor.  It was almost unfair that people couldn’t even tell you were pregnant.  If it wasn’t for the baby on the monitor, and the slight flutters you had been feeling you wouldn’t believe it.  

“When am I going to, you know, where’s my belly?” The doctor huffs out a laugh, and points towards your bloated stomach.  That was it.  “No, this…this is about the size I was when I’ve eaten a whole carton of ice cream and a medium pizza alone.  I’m bloated.  It’s barely there.  I want a belly.  And when will Ransom be able to feel her?”

“You just called the baby her,” he looks between the two of you confused, “Please, don’t take what I said completely to heart.  Just because the baby won’t show us what we’re looking for doesn’t mean it’s a girl.”

“She’s been calling the baby a her.  But back to that part about me feeling her question.  I would very much like to feel my baby.  The lack of a bump, and no movement, makes me feel she’s not pregnant.”

“See!  I want a bump, and I want to feel her more than feeling gassy.  That’s it.  This is really a food baby, and I’m gassy, huh?”

“Except for the fact that the baby is literally in there.  You saw it up there, and it was turning somersaults.  Ms. Sinclair, every pregnancy is different.  And usually the first one takes time.  You’ve got a petite little baby, and when it’s time he or she will make themselves known.  And don’t you have a wedding?  Wouldn’t you hate to have to find a different dress because this baby decided to be seen?  Let me get the nurse in here.  He’ll take your blood, and we’ll determine what you’re having.  What I can say for certain, is they’re growing right on time.  There doesn’t appear to be any abnormalities, and you and Mr. Drysdale are doing everything right.  And eventually you will pop out.  And you will become uncomfortable because of it I’m sure.  Mr. Drysdale, soon you should feel your little fish in there.  Okay.  You two hang out.”

Leaving makes things feel like an eternity.  You were about to find out the sex of your baby.  You and Ransom were becoming a family at this very moment.  You were going to be able to give the peanut a name.  No more RJ or baby Drysdale.  He or she was going to be talked about as if they were a person.

You are nervous, but not even close to what Ransom is feeling, “I asked my parents if there’s any underlying issues in our family I wouldn't know about.  It was just some sinus issues.”

“What?” You smile, looking at him.  “What does that even mean?”

“I had my tonsils taken out when I was young, and sinus surgery.  I’m just so worried that I’m going to be the reason that something is wrong.  And…Buns, I can’t…I want our baby to be healthy.”

“She is,” he rolls his eyes, but still smiles.  Leaning in for a kiss, but you grab his hand to place on your belly.  “Or he.  They’re going to be fine, Ran.  And you best believe we’re going to make sure he or she is taken to the doctor regularly.  They’ll get their checkups to make sure they’re growing right on schedule, and that nothing is wrong.  Tonsils are nothing.”

“Speak for yourself.  That was torture.  But what if something is wrong?  If they have something wrong, it’s gonna be my fault, and…”

“Shh,” bringing his hand up to your mouth, pressing it on your lips, you begin to kiss over his knuckles, and press them up to your cheek.  He was already shaping up to be the sweetest dad.  So concerned for his baby, and already blaming himself.  “We made this baby.  And we’re not going to speak something into existence that isn’t there.  We’re also not going to blame ourselves.  This is our baby.  Hopefully our first.  And we’ve got to make sure that she is cared for and loved above all else.”

“You are calling our baby a her.”

“Because, it’s just what I feel.  I feel this sweet pea is our baby girl.  We may find out that she’s not a girl, but a boy, and I’ll still love him.  But I really think this angel baby is our baby girl.”

“Yeah, yeah.  This day is going to be so long waiting to find out.”

“While the baby is growing, Ran, we shouldn’t worry as much as you are.  Let’s just breathe.  We’ll know soon enough what we’re having.”

“Wait, stop!” Ransom throws his hand out in front of the doctor, eyes wide, and you hold in a snort.  He had warned you he was going to do this, but him actually doing it tickles you, “Can you just for the sake of this moment call us, Mr. And Mrs. Drysdale?  It’s happening this weekend.  I’m making it official.  I just don’t want you to tell us what we’re having as Mr. Drysdale and Ms. Sinclair.  It’s insulting.  Please.  Just this once.”

My goodness, he was adorable.  Didn’t want this moment marred by your maiden name.  He wanted the moment you found out about your baby’s sex to be with mama and daddy Drysdale.  He wasn’t lying.  He was making it official in less than forty-eight hours.  You were cutting it close.  Wanting to spend your honeymoon with your husband being able to buy cute outfits for your child.

“Okay.  Mr. And Mrs. Drysdale, keep in mind this test is anywhere from ninety-eighty to ninety-nine percent accurate.  Are you ready to find out what you’re having?” With Ransom behind you, and both hands on your belly, with yours on top of his, you give the doctor a nod of your head.  Sucking in your breath slowly.  “You two are going to have a baby girl.”

The sound that escapes your mouth as you turn around to hug Ransom was that of pure joy.  A stutter cry of shock and happiness when you hug him.  You were getting your little Ransom junior that was going to be the sweetest little angel girl.  

Burying your face into his neck, you cry.  Digging your fingers into his back as you and him celebrate.  Just as it should, together.  Just the two of you.  Three.  “I’m going to leave you two, alone,” he steps out of the waiting room, and Ransom holds you even tighter.

“Bunny?  Buns, are you happy?”  

“Ran, we’re having our baby girl.  Yes, I’m so happy.  Oh my god, oh our sweet little peanut.  Oh hey, darling,” pulling away from Ransom, you hold onto your belly, looking down at the little bump of your stomach.  “Hey.  Ransom, this is our baby in there.  Our sweet girl.”

“And boy, I’m going to spoil her so much.  Hi, baby,” he says to your belly, squatting down, he pulls up your shirt, giving the swell a kiss.  “We have waited for so long for you.  And now we know that you’re going to be our little sunflower.  Your daddy is going to have you dressed in the cutest little dresses and sweaters.  Your mama is going to look at you all the time.  Oh,” he looks up at you. Tears blurring his bright blue eyes.  

“She’s ours, Buns.  This…oh, this sweet thing is our little bitty baby bunny.  Oh my goodness.  I can’t even process anything because we’re getting our girl.  And sweetheart, if you were a boy I would be just as happy.  Have you been talking to your mama, and telling her what you were.  She’s been calling you a girl for three weeks now.  Okay…she’s going to paint the mountains in your room.  Your mama is going to hide a little girl somewhere in there, and it’s going to be you.  Maybe she can paint me and her, too.  Bunny?  Babe, why are you crying.”

“Because you’re so sweet,” sniffling as you wipe your face.  This was all that you had ever wanted.  A man that was your partner, but also shared in your wants.  You never saw Ransom the way he is now.  Not with that first meeting.  You are glad that first impressions aren't everything.  “How did I get so lucky to have you as my baby daddy.”

“Wait.  No, no.  I’m the husband.”

“And you love her so much already.  And I can’t even take how sweet this is, and I want to see you talk to the belly everyday, and I want you to feel her kick.  It’s not fair.  You love her so much, and you can’t even feel her, or feel when she hiccups.  Ran, I want you to feel everything, and…”

“Shh,” he stands up, pulling you into his embrace.  “Buns, I’m fine.  I’ll feel her when she’s ready for me to.  She’s a tiny little thing and can’t stretch out enough to kick your belly.”

“But I want you to feel her now,” you know how silly this is.  But it was so emotional, that you couldn’t help but to feel frustrated, and it didn’t even bother Ransom as much as it is you.  “You’re her daddy.”

“And when I feel her, I’ll still be her daddy.  Sweetheart, your mama’s hormones are crazy, and I make her crazy, but she’ll be fine,” you pout at his tender words.  His hand pushes up against the belly again as he starts another conversation.  “We sure had fun making you.  Fucking your mama everywhere.  She was insatiable.”

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale!”

“I’d come home, and her pretty little pussy was wet and ready for me to stuff her full.  I think that’s actually how you were conceived, up on the counter.”

“Ransom!”

“She had her naked self up there, legs spread so wide, and she was dripping onto the counter.”

“You better stop!”

“It got you to stop crying though.  I’ll do it again.  Just to see you smile,” he kisses on your forehead, and all the way down to your mouth.  Committing this day to his memory.  Every bit of it.  Right down to the smell of your perfume that lingered on his skin.

“Bunny?” Ransom gives you a tap on your arm, but you curl more into his warmth.  You are exhausted.  This honeymoon was spent with Ransom keeping you well stuffed and exhausted.  “Bunny, wake up.”

“Mmm,” you whine.  It wasn’t even light outside.  Why was this man waking you up?  “Stop.  I’m tired.  You kept me up all night long.”

“You know, I didn’t hear you complaining when I had your legs pinned to the bed.  But fine.  I won’t tell you what I know,” he stubs up.  Sticking his nose up in the air, and crossing his arms over his chest, and leans back on the bed.  This week has been amazing.  Even if most of the week was spent in the room being entwined with your husband.  

“Won’t tell you anything.  Not one little thing.”

“Shh,” finding your way closer to him, you nuzzle up against his side.  Sighing at the faint scent of his cologne.  He smelled like you, sweat, and Dior.

“Nope.  Can’t drag it out of me.  No way, no how.”

“Ugh,” you sit up, playfully glaring at him.  “Go on.  Tell me what it is that you know.”

“Nope.  I told you I wouldn’t,” rolling your eyes, you start to slide your naked body back down on the bed, but Ransom lays his hand on your stomach, and you look down at your favorite piece of jewelry he owned, his wedding band.  You gasp when you see his fingers splay out on your belly, and he gives it a few pulses.  “Won’t tell you anything at all.”

“Where did that come from?  Oh my god!  Hey, little one,” your hand rubs over your belly, and you give your baby’s waterbed a smile.  “Look at you.  Did you finally decide to tell daddy hey?”  It wasn’t much, but it was a bump.  No longer did you look like you were housing a food baby, but instead, you finally looked pregnant.  

“Ransom!  Oh my god.  Hey,” looking up at him, you both smile with waterfalls of tears streaming down your face.  “Did you feel that?”

“She’s been doing that all morning.  Woke me up, didn’t you, sunflower?  I was sleeping, and minding my business, and her chubby little foot kicked daddy’s hand, and I woke up, and looked, and there she was.  Were you hiding behind mama’s bladder or something?”

“We really need to think about her name.”

“Sunflower.”

“No.  No, we’re not naming her sunflower.  You can call her that, but I want her to have a name,” Ransom shrugs, and looks back down at the bump.  His hand wanders over the belly, stopping when he feels her movements again.  He was obsessed.  He was never going to let you go again.

While he’s watching his daughter, you stare at him.  He was the perfect choice for a life partner, but you could not have been ready for how good of a father he was going to be.  You could already see how his hand was always going to need to touch the bump.  But even the way he was so soft and gentle, and he talked to your belly.

“Your mama won’t let us officially name you sunflower.  So I’m going to say the alphabet, and when you like that letter, you kick your daddy’s hand, okay?” He starts to say the alphabet slowly.  Pausing on certain letters longer than others.  His hand drifts over your belly searching for the peanut.  

“L.  M.  N.  Are you asleep?  I will go back through this alphabet if you don’t kick.  O, I really like the name Ophelia.  Okay.  No.  P.  You have got to be kidding,” giggles erupt out of your mouth as the baby P starts to twist around in your stomach.  “P?  P?  This is going to be the first obstacle, sunflower.   I don’t even know any P names, and this is what you want to stop on.  Let’s try again.  Q.  Oh thank goodness.  R,” his eyes close, and he peaks at your belly.  She was a sleeping beauty again.

Finishing the alphabet, and starting over, he randomly says P out of place.  “What is this child?  Sunflower, you’re being a smarty pants.  Bunny, she’s moving on P again.”

“Well, I think P is going to be the first letter of her name then.  There’s Penelope, Penny, Piper, Prue, Phoebe, Paige.”

“Did you just say the Haliwell sisters names, and add in a Penelope and a Penny?  No.  Our daughter is not being named after a television show.  Go on, say some more P names.”

“Parker, Pippa, Payson, Peyton,” you sigh because there was one name you really loved.  Ransom wasn’t liking any of these, and you both had to love her name.  The thought of him not liking a name that had been on your list for a few years, even before Frank, hurt to think about.  “Paisley.”

“Oh!” He shouts, leaning over your belly.  Pressing his lips against the stretched skin.  “She is moving so much.  Paisley, are you going to be a demanding little thing?  Oh, Buns, she loves the name almost as much as I do.  Paisley Ransom Drysdale, you are going to rule the mountain.  You are going to command Bucky.  The only one keeping you in line is going to be Gucci, huh?  Paisley, I know.  I know.  We all agree that this is the sweetest name.  And no, I totally didn’t look at your mama’s baby name list on her phone and see a star beside Paisley.”

“Ran,” he was too sweet.  “Did you really look at my baby name list?”

“Yep, and I added a little part at the bottom that I titled Ransom’s list.  I put down the names I really liked, and added a few of my own.  So we have us a Paisley Ransom?”

If it wasn’t for you and Ransom in agreement, it was Paisley herself swimming in her ocean and telling you she loved the name just as much.  “Paisley, daddy is going to spoil you, but I also think uncle Bucky is going to spoil his chicken butt, too.”

“A girl, hmm,” Bucky slings a bale of hay out of the barn, and goes to stand beside Ransom.  He couldn’t keep his eyes off your home.  To say that things went from blissful to a torturous and sick pregnancy once you returned would be a lie.  Why did you have to be the woman that was sick in the third trimester?

“What are you going to do with this tiny little Bunny running between my house and yours?”

“Uh, no.  I will be carrying her everywhere.”

“I’m talking about when she can walk.”

“So was I,” Ransom deadpans.  What a silly notion that Paisley was going to walk to get around.  Ransom had intentions of keeping her held and treated like a princess.  

“How is she doing?  Still sick?” Your sickness was worrisome to Ransom and Harlan.  Harlan claimed that you shouldn’t be this sick this far along.  He felt like he had become a nurse when all you could do was be nauseous and sleep.  “My mom, she has this remedy she took with my youngest half sister.”

“No, you know Bunny, she’s going to power through this.  I have offered everything.  But she’s not dehydrated, Paisley is growing perfectly fine, and Miss Gucci makes sure to keep her entertained and moving.  Thanks, but you know how she is,” Bucky nods his head, starting to head back up to the hayloft, and Ransom looks up at him.  “What are you doing?”

“Uh, getting the stables ready.  Bunny approved goats.”

“We don’t need goats.”

“Umm…they’re cute.  You better watch your wife, she wants a donkey.  She’ll have this little petting zoo for your children.  Don’t get angry.  You love that woman, and your children are going to grow up seeing life in other animals.  They'll have compassion, and learn to care for things.  Having animals is a good thing.  And she always told you she wanted a ranch and farm.  Goats will be in the and farm part.  And I’ll teach Paisley how to care for everything.  And quit pouting!  You are always the daddy.  I am the uncle, and she is the chicken butt.  Which by the way,” he hauls the last bale of hay down, and walks back down to Ransom, pointing out a spot close to the barn.

“Your wife wants the chicken coup and chicken run to go there.  Gotta keep her girls safe.  You should see some of the chickens she wants.  You’re going to have so many eggs, with different sizes and colors.  That sweet little girl is going to be going right over there with her designer corgis, and gather the eggs for the day.  You know, for a city slicker that everyone think is nothing but a pretty face, you’re adjusting well to this life.”

“Ehh, I think well is an overstatement.  But the idea of getting my Bunny and my baby, and the only family I like here, it’s worth it.  Plus, the view at night.  This seriously is a piece of heaven and paradise.  Quiet.  Anyways, I guess get the goats and donkeys.  Save the sheep for when Paisley can ask for them.  Whatever chickens that she wants, get them, and you trust Steve with building all this?”

“He’s smarter than he looks.  He’s more than just a dick on legs believe it or not.  Very high sex drive, but sharp as a tack.  You know he actually has a college degree in architecture?  He’s designing this chicken house.  Tend to your baby mama,” Ransom lets out a guttural growl as he shoots an angry look towards Bucky.  He hated the baby daddy and baby mama term.  “She married you.  Look at it as a term of endearment.  A term she can’t say about anyone else.”

“You’re right,” he puffs up his chest a bit.  “We wanted a baby, we made a baby, and now we’re getting a Paisley.  And hopefully she’s not a thorn in her mother’s side when she’s born.”

“Oh, if she’s anything like you, then yes, the chicken butt is going to be a thorn in all our sides.  She’s going to have this sweet little face, but she is going to mean business.  Go tend to her mother.  I’m ready for Paisley to keep you from asking too many questions.  Especially about the ducks.”

“No ducks!” Ransom screams as he starts to jump onto the side by side to head back to the house.  

“If Paisley wants ducks she gets ducks!”

“Paisley can not talk.  Ransom can.  No ducks!”

“Uh huh,” Bucky starts as Ransom drives away.  “Paisley told me yesterday that her wanted duckies.”

You exhale slowly, pressing a hand over your swollen belly, and look up at your husband with fearful eyes, “It’s time,” you tremble out, but he is every bit the calm man he always is.  Confidently reaching for your hand he leads you towards the front door, “Ran, I’m scared.”

“I’m not.  Our little Paisley sunflower is finally making her debut.  You’ve got this, and I will be right by your side.  You’re going to be amazing.”

“I’m not ready.  Can we…can we just stop time right now,” you know how ridiculous you are being.  But there was a literal human about to be pushed out of your body.  Life was going to change.  “Please?  You always make things happen.”

“Sweetheart, I can’t make this happen, even if I wanted to, and I don’t.  I am ready to see you hold our precious little baby girl.  To see you take on another role in our lives.  I’m ready to see your parents, Harlan, Bucky, and I’m sure Steve fawn over this little baby that we created.  We wanted this, and we made this happen.  Now, get your cute little waddling self in the car.  I really don’t want to deliver a baby today.”

Your eyes open up wide in shock as you stare at him.  You are wasting time.  Things can happen slow, but also just as fast, and you could deliver your child in the car.  “I’m only joking.”

“Ransom, let’s go.  I do not need my insides on the floorboard of my car.”

The nurse lays your baby on your chest, and time stands still.  You had wanted and hoped for this little angel that is staring up at you all confused.  “Oh, hey, baby.  Look at you, Paisley Ransom.  You have your daddy’s lips.  Ran, look it.  Oh my goodness, Paisley meet the man that talks to you every night.  You’re going to have to call him daddy though.”

“She’s so small,” Ransom’s thick fingers wipe the steady cascade of tears coming down his face as he gazes at his sweet little angel.  “You’re going to be daddy’s shadow, huh?  I’m not going to be able to let you out of my sight.  Oh, honey.  She’s absolutely perfect.”

“Wait,” your voice panics as her eyes slowly close.  Her back refuses to rise and fall with her breathing.  “Ran!  No, no,” hands from faceless people reach and take that bundle of joy off your chest.  “What’s happening?  Ransom?”

Ransom stares horrified as nurses hustle around your baby, while you are a puddle.  Crying and reaching for her.  Needing answers of anything, and you get nothing.  Almost as if a light switch is flipped on, Ransom goes into action.  Holding onto your hand tightly, “You will tell us what is going on with our daughter.  Tell us now.”

“Mr. Drysdale, your wife still has the after birth.”

“And our daughter has got machines being hooked up to her as we speak.  Where…where are they taking her?”

“To a doctor.  My job currently is your wife.”

“But I need to know what is going on right now!  You tell me what is happening.”

“While I can’t be sure, things like this aren't uncommon.  They’re going to check her over.  If there was a true concern they would be coming over immediately.  I assure you, your daughter has the best care here.  Let them take care of her, while I take care of your wife.  When there is something to report about your daughter we will.  Please, stay calm.”

Calm was not at all how you are feeling.  Scared.  Terrified.  Empty.  Lost.  None of your emotions are calm.  Ransom turns to look at you, keeping his eyes only on yours, and you follow suit.  Copying his breathing, but still you felt scared.  Terrified.  Empty.  Lost.  You want your baby.  Need to know if she was okay, and what was going on.  You need to see her sweet face again.

Mr. And Mrs. Drysdale,” a new doctor walks in, without your baby.  Breathing is usually an involuntary thing, but since Paisley was born, you had to physically think about it.  “Paisley is just fine.”

“So where is she?” This woman was coming in here to tell you that Paisley was fine, but she came without Paisley.  You need to hold her.  Ransom still hadn’t got to hold her.  “Where’s my baby?”

“Mrs. Drysdale, she is fine.  There were a few complications.”

“Like what?  You tell me that our daughter is fine, but that there’s complications, and…”

“Mr. Drysdale, let me finish, please.  She is fine.  We are going to wheel you into NICU.  She’s being monitored.  There is a slight heart defect, but as of right now we do not think there will be a need for surgery or medicine.  She will need to be monitored.”

“Why…but why did my baby stop breathing?  She was laying on me, and just…Ransom she just stopped, and,” you words run off into tears, and Ransom grips your hand even tighter.  Fearful that he was the cause of this defect.

“That had nothing to do with her heart.  While our body’s have the ability to adjust from being in utero to being outside, it doesn’t always happen.  So far, other than her heart that I think she will just need some monitoring with for the next couple of days, she’s healthy.  She wants to see her mom and dad.  Would you two like to see your baby with less dramatics than you have seen today?  I promise, she is a healthy baby.”

“Please,” you whimper, throwing the blanket off your legs.  You are beyond ready to be reunited with her.  Ransom doesn’t miss a moment to help you out of the bed.  Assisting you to a wheelchair as you’re taken to Paisley.  Seeing her in an incubator makes you gasp, “Do I…can we hold her?”

“Of course.  Wash your hands.”

“So, how will we know if she’s going to need surgery or medicine?  She’s just so tiny,” the doctor runs through a few scenarios with you.  Letting you know that she is being heavily monitored currently.  That doctor’s visits may be more frequent for her, but you don’t care.  Paisley being a happy baby is what you care about.

“Oh, hey, Paisley,” you coo as a nurse places her in your arms.  She swishes around, and moves even closer to your chest.  Squeaking with every move she makes.  “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life.  Ran, she’s perfect.  I mean, minus your wee little heart.  It’s because you felt so much love from everyone, huh?  You want to hold her?”

“I want you to right now.”

“Paisley, you’re daddy is being very generous, but I know that he wants to touch and hold you so much right now.  Ransom, sit down.  Hold your baby,” sitting down beside you, you extend the tiny sunflower over to him.  Waiting until he gets comfortable holding her before you settle back.  Watching him more than her.  How he is so serene staring at her.  His forefinger pets around his face, and still more tears.

“You are a pretty little thing.  But I didn’t expect anything less with who you have as a mama.  Paisley, you don’t get to scare daddy like that, okay?  You’ve got to be okay so you can run around the property.  Your mama has gotten you so many animals.  Uncle Bucky has these two annoying goats that he can’t stand.  But I need you to be okay.  You’re so strong, sweetheart.  And we’ve got to take you home, and love on you.  Grandpa is so excited.  He misses your mama, too.  Bunny, this is our baby.”

“I know,” you whisper, wiping his cheeks free of tears.  This is the most handsome you have ever seen him.  Completely vulnerable, loving, soft and tender.  Becoming the sweetest and most protective father in an instant.  But how he was holding onto her like she was the most precious thing in his life.

A younger you would have been jealous that your husband was getting a new lady in his life, but if you were sharing Ransom’s attention with this angel, it was worth it.  He pets over her sweet little fingers, looking up at you with a bright smile, “We made her.”

“I know.  Daddy, that's your baby girl.”

“You hear that, Paisley?  Mama says that you are mine.  I didn’t think I could love someone like I do your mom, but this — Bunny, I love her so much and immediately.  How did I get so lucky for two people in my life?  Bunny?” He gives you a pout, his bottom lip trembling, “I’m not even letting you hold her.”

“You keep holding her.  When she gets hungry, I’ll hold her.  I like watching you become a dad.  This is my favorite I’ve ever seen you.  Paisley Ransom, you have your big scary dad wrapped so tightly around that tiny little pinky finger of yours.  Look at him.  He can’t even stop looking at you for long.”

“I love her.  And I love you.  And you promise that I didn’t do this?”

“No.  You would never do anything to hurt our baby, and she’s going to be just fine.  Okay?”

“So far her heart seems to be working just fine.  We’ll still keep an eye on it.  And her constant stuffy nose.  If this persists we may go through with an allergy test.  Have you noticed any changes in your diet?” Paisley’s pediatrician tries to get her attention again.  Smiling and waving at your daughter who doesn’t react until a loud noise is made.

“Yes, we’re doing the elimination diet for me.  She doesn’t like when mommy eats shrimp or green beans, do you?” Paisley looks around the room, blowing bubbles, until you click your tongue, and she averts her gaze right up to you.  

“And you’re sure this is going to make a difference?” Ransom asks, as the doctor gets closer to the two of you.  “She…it’s like our baby isn’t even a year old and it’s always something.  Could you not move so fast towards her.”

“Ran, she’s here to help.”

“Paisley,” the doctor calls her name, and Paisley’s head turns towards her quickly.  Blinking her eyes heavily.  “She’s smart, and her hearing is perfect.  But let’s just try this right here,” slipping on the cutest tiny little pink glasses, Paisley opens her eyes as wide as possible and looks up at you.  

Staring long and hard towards you before the biggest two teeth smile appears on her face, “Oh god, baby.  Oh, my Paisley,” her chubby hand reaches towards your face, touching all over it before giggling.  “Can you finally see mama?  Ransom, say something.”

“Paisley?” Her head flits towards Ransom’s so fast, and her giggles get even louder.  Making grabby hands towards him.  Her mouth is opening and closing, not saying anything, but she wants her daddy.  “Come here, sweet sunflower.  Look at you.  Do you finally see daddy?” Her eyes blink several times looking at Ransom before glancing around the room.  “Our sweet baby just couldn’t see, huh?  You going to discover every little thing now?”

“Dadadadadadada,” Paisley squeals suddenly.  Slapping hand on Ransom’s cheek, and pulls herself closer for one of her messy kisses she reserves just for him.  

“Looks like the glasses have done the trick.  I think you’re going to have a much happier baby now that she can see.  Since she’s mobile, she should become more so.  No more knocking into things, Paisley.  And you two are doing a great job.  You’re giving her the best life you can, and you’re taking care of her.  Noticing that there are some things that just aren’t right.  Don’t be so hard on yourself.  She’s happy.  And that’s what all people want for their children.  Ransom, remember, this isn’t your fault.  That baby isn’t blaming you.”

You whisper thanks to the pediatrician.  Ransom still had yet to forgive himself for Paisley’s health.  Forgetting how happy she was, and how she was always searching for his voice.  Paisley adored her dad.  And if it wasn’t for pesky things getting in her eyesight and vision, she would be able to crawl to him much faster.  

Placing her chunky hand over his mouth, she waits for him to give her dozens of kisses, and turns towards you smiling.  “Okay, Paisley, you ready to see Uncle Bucky?  You got to show off your new look.  I think he’s going to love your pretty new glasses.  And Gucci,” she squeals, turning to look at you.  Giving her hands a little clap.  “You wanna go see Bucky and Gucci?”

“Uh!”  Making the sweetest little motions towards you, she bounces in Ransom’s arms.  

“She’s going to be very curious for a while.  She’s seeing everything in a new light.  Be patient with her as she learns her surroundings again.”

“Gucci typically stays right with her, huh, Paisley.  And Grandpa.  Yeah, she’s got so many people watching her, and making sure she doesn’t run into things.  Now you won’t have to worry about that, huh?  You’re going to see everything.”

“Look at that beautiful princess,” Harlan announces, standing up to meet you two at the door.  “Paisley Ransom, you are more beautiful now than when you left.  Look at how big you’re smiling.”

“You men have got to stop.  Ransom can’t stop crying, and here you are tearing up.  Paisley, tell Grandpa that you can see everyone you love now, and that’s why you’re smiling and giggling so much.  And…” the front door opens, and the paws of a corgi that is trying to get traction on the hardwood floor comes bustling into the room with all of you.

“Ahh!” Paisley screams, looking down at Gucci and clearly seeing her for the first time.  “Ahh!” It was like seeing her fluffy guard dog truly the way she was meant to, and it was the best thing in the world.

“I hear my sweet angel!” She bounces in your arms hearing Bucky’s voice finally, and when he comes into the living room with all of you, she screams again.  “Oh my goodness.  Does she see me now?”

“Yes.  Don’t you dare, Bucky Barnes, you quit this right now,” he can’t.  He doesn’t even try to pretend that he’s not crying.  Just continues on his merry way.  Walking closer to you, and extends his hands for Paisley.

“You don’t even have to hear my voice.  You know it’s me now, huh?  Oh my goodness.  Paisie, you quit smiling and reaching towards me.  Gimme this baby,” the fit of laughter that Paisley goes into as Bucky pulls her into his arm, blowing raspberries on her neck.  “Oh she’s so cute I could just…GOBBLE HER ALL UP!  Nom nom nom,” he playfully bites at her chunky self.

“Bucky, we need to find you a woman, so you can have one of these of your own.”

“Nope.  None will ever be this cute, and giggly, and smushy, and she’s biting my cheek.”

“Well, you bite hers,” he is adorable with her.  It was different seeing Bucky with Paisley, because you knew Bucky had the potential to be just like Ransom.  Completely soft for a partner and child.  “Paisley, don’t you hurt Bucky.  He is going to buy you a turkey.”

“No turkey!” Ransom gives you a shout, pulling you into him.  “No turkey.  No turkeys.  No peacock or whatever silly little animal you decide you’re going to add down there.  And that wasn’t an idea, Buns.  I did not give you an idea to run with.  You quit looking like you’re ready to order a damn peacock.”

“I do miss not having the menagerie of animals here,” Harlan muses.

“Then we’ll get fake animals again.”

“Ran, you don’t even tend to the animals.  Imagine Paisley and Gucci being followed by a peacock.”

“No peacock!  Bucky, don’t you dare order a peacock.”

“I am not included in this conversation because I can’t say no to Paisley.”

“She doesn’t even talk.  She literally just was able to see today.  No more fowls.  We have chickens.”

“And the cutest little chicken butt for Uncle Buck Buck.”

THE END

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @patzammit @lavender-annd-lilac @midnightramyeoncravings @midnightramyeoncravings @slowdownbeforeyouregretit @elrw24

[lovepersevering13]

elaborate on tori springs autism

Ok I’m gonna start this by saying that the topic I’m most passionate about in the entire universe is Tori Spring (As well as Michael, Charlie and Oliver) being a very autistic coded character and so this post is a very long info dump about it because it consumes almost all of my waking thoughts.

Anyway, quick summary, I believe that Tori Spring has autism because of her social struggles, mannerisms and general outlook on life. Like how she always talks about not fitting in, she gets really obsessed with specific things (Star Wars and Solitaire) and she struggles to express her emotions, often leading up to an intense emotional outburst (Autistic meltdown).

Forewarning - I am obviously not a licensed psychiatrist (I’m literally just a mentally ill teenage girl) and so I don’t actually have the capability to diagnose anyone, I just have a lot of time to waste studying the DSM-5-TR (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Health Disorders, Fifth Edition, Text Revision) and analysing Tori Spring. Also, Autism is different for everyone and this is just one perspective of it based on research and the DSM-5 which obviously doesn’t cover every autistic persons experience. OH, Also, I tried really hard to focus on using ‘person-first’ language when I was writing it but I may have messed up a few times so let me know if I did! Also let me know if there is anything else incorrect here so I can fix it :)

Ok now that’s out of the way I will start with what we know is true: Tori Spring likely struggles with Depression. It’s a generally accepted fact amoungst the fandom due to Tori’s negative outlook on life and suicidal ideation (at the end of Solitiare). Now, why is this relevant? Well Autism and Depression are often comorbid diagnosis, people with Autism being 4 times more likely than Neurotypical’s to experience a diagnosis of Depression.

So she’s already got that going for her, let’s take a look at Solitaire and some excerpts from that which highlight different aspects of the Autism diagnostic criteria in the DSM-5. This is based of what I annotated the first time I read Solitaire about a year ago there may be more that I missed.

A. Persistent deficits in social communication and social interaction

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.

- “No- Tori just held a conversation by herself” - Becky Allen, Solitaire, Page 28

- “I think you’re breaking down.” I cough loudly. “I’m not a car.” Solitaire, page 311.

In this quote Tori is taking things wayyy too literally which is common amoungst many people with Autism due to the way they process information.

- “I think… it’s unlikely that anyone would want to catch a grenade for anyone else. Or jump I doesn’t of a train for anyone else. That’s very counterproductive.” Solitaire, Page 45

Again the literal thinking (I also have this exact thought every time I hear this song).

- “I drift away and picture myself….” Solitaire, Page 33

Ok so I didn’t want to include this entire quote because it’s really long but essentially she’s thinking about what it would be like to be, for lack of better word, neurotypical. To be confident in social interactions and always say the right thing, say things that people are interested in and to not be awkward or shy.

- “I quite like cats, and I saw it for the first time at lunch in the cafeteria. I almost felt like I’d made a new friend,” Solitaire, Page 68

Often people with Autism prefer interaction with animals, this is theorised to be because social interaction with animals can compensate for a lack of social interaction with peers. Oh also a lot of people say that cats are kinda autistic coded animals because of their similar mannerisms to people with autism.

- “Emotions are humanities fatal disease.” Solitaire, Page 346

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.

- “I think it’s important to make the effort. Social conventions and all,” Solitaire, page 43

- “I need to control my staring” Solitaire, page 45

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.

- “Then again, I don’t feel very similar to anyone at all” Solitaire, Page 20

Many people who have Autism (Especially Women) often report that they don’t “fit in” with their peers, there are a variety of reasons for this but it is often related to masking and just generally struggling to socialise the same way their Neurotypical peers do.

- “There’s a time and a place for being normal. For most people, normal is their default setting. But for some, like you and me, normal is something we have to bring out, like putting on a suit for a posh dinner.” - Michael Holden, Solitaire, Page 61

This quote from Michael is one of my favourites in Solitaire and I feel heavily related to the autistic experience. It pretty much perfectly describes the experience of autistic masking.

- “I thought it’d be nice to try and rekindle this friendship. But it’s too hard. I don’t want to talk to anyone.” Solitaire, Page 99

- “I’m no expert on social etiquette.” Solitaire, Page 140

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 stereotypes, lining up toys or flipping objects, echolalia, idiosyncratic phrases).

- “I kick the floor and spin. The world hurricanes around me. I don’t know how long I do this,” Solitaire, Page 84

This quote is just Tori stimming, she stims quite a bit in the book but this was just one example I picked.

- “I watch that scene three times and then turn it off,” Solitaire, Page 102

- “Playing ‘Fix You’ by Coldplay over and over on repeat” Solitaire, (I forgot the page)

These are another two examples of stimming that I wanted to include because it shows different forms of stimming (repeatedly watching or listening to something) that aren’t talked about as much.

2. Insistence on sameness, inflexible adherence to routines, or ritualized patterns of verbal or nonverbal behavior (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).

- “It’s not a very funny programs but I still seem to watch at least on episode every single day.” Solitaire, Page 100

While this could just be because it’s on tv I figured if she really didn’t enjoy the show she could definitely watch something else. This is probably an example of “preservation” which is a coping mechanism that helps people with autism to find comfort in predictability and routine.

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 interests).

- “The matter of the fact is that Star Wars was actually a major obsession of mine when I was a kid” Solitaire, Page 24

Apparently most children don’t have extreme, obsessions that consume all of their waking thoughts (I cannot attest to this, I’ve been hyper fixating on random stuff since I was like 2). Anyway, hyper fixation is a sign of Autism which is often overlooked in girls because it’s usually something related to pop culture and is ignored as just being “fangirling”.

- “I have already stuck all of Solitaires previous posts. My wall is completely covered.” Solitaire, Page 297

This is only one example but if you’ve read solitaire you’ll know that Tori gets very obsessed with solitaire and especially toward the end of the book I’d argue that it does start to become quite a hyper fixation.

4. 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).

- “I started to feel all this hair on my forehead and my cheeks and how it plastered my shoulders and back and I felt it creeping around me like worms, choking me to death.” Solitaire, Page 15

So this is an example of sensory overload, while this can affect anyone, it is very common in people with Autism as they often have a hyper awareness of sensory stimuli, causing it to become very overwhelming. So this can happen with things like sound as well and I didn’t put it in here but there is another quote when she’s at Becky’s party talking about how loud it is.

- “At some point I fall asleep but I can here all these creaky noises coming from outside” Solitaire, page 65

So this quote isn’t exactly that special but it’s the way she brings it up every time she sleeps, like she’s so hyper aware of the sounds outside that it begins to prevent her from sleeping.

Here are some other miscellaneous quotes that I wanted to throw in because I think they are relevant:

- “Who would I be,” I ask at one point, “if I were any of the Big Bang theory characters?”

“Sheldon,” - Charlie Spring, Solitaire, Page 100

This quote is nothing really I just thought it was interesting that Charlie related Tori to Sheldon as he’s generally seen as another autistic coded character (No matter how problematic that may be, I haven’t actually seen the show I just know a lot of people with Autism think it’s poor representation)

- “I don’t want people to try and understand why I am the way I am, because I should be the first person to understand that and I don’t understand yet.” Solitaire, (I lost the page)

- “I’ve got to do something,” I keep saying,” Solitaire, Page 272

Ok so throughout Solitaire (and ‘This Winter’ and the ‘Heartstopper’ graphic novels) Tori displays a very high sense of empathy. Main examples of this are with her brother Charlie and in that scene where Ben Hope gets beat up at the Solitaire meet up. Stereotypically people with autism have a low sense of empathy but actually it’s a spectrum and many people with autism (more often girls) experience a heightened sense of empathy.

- “Before boys, before sex, before alcohol, before she started to move on while I stayed exactly where I was.” Solitaire, Page 353

In girls signs of Autism generally begin to manifest more during their tween/teenage years. Girls who appeared to be progressing at a similar rate to their peers may begin to fall behind due to the increased social and academic pressure. This quote could however be more related to Tori being asexual, which we will get into now.

Asexuality and Autism

As confirmed in volume 5 of Heartstopper, Tori Spring is asexual. People with Autism are 2-3 times more likely to identify as a part of the LGBTQ+ community. Especially, the aroace community. The studies I looked at said around 30% of people with Autism also identified as aro/ace, this is also more common in women with Autism than men.

Autistic Meltdowns

So in addition to those direct quotes a repeated occurrence throughout Solitaire is Tori’s emotions bubbling up and eventually bursting out… and what could these outburst actually be? Autistic Meltdown.

The main examples that come to mind for Tori are the fight with Michael, that scene where Charlie asks if she’s ok and she starts crying and the scene where she’s talking to Lucas about Charlie at the concert.

Safe Foods

Ok Tori’s obsession with diet lemonade is kind of iconic. People with Autism often tend to have ‘safe foods’ that don’t trigger sensory issues, usually these are specific things with consistent, safe, tastes. For Tori, this is diet lemonade. Another thing to point out about this is the fact that she always uses straws which is possibly either a sensory thing or a routine :)

Ok, that’s about it… I don’t believe anyone would actually read all that but if you did… damn, thanks :))

Some of the resources I used:

https://www.allohealth.care/healthfeed/sexuality/asexuality-and-autism

https://neurodivergentinsights.com/autism-infographics/autism-and-sexual-diversity?format=amp

https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2016/08/the-bond-between-animals-and-the-autistic/623372/

https://socialcaretalk.org/experiences/life-autism-spectrum/autism-feeling-different-wanting-to-fit-in/

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

https://jackiesilvernutrition.com/articles/autism-safe-food/

[guilty-pleasures21]

Yooooooooouuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!! You SUCK!

I'm actually going to start posting a new chapter everyday, just because 😁.

0. The Slow Burn

Part 1 - the meet-cute

Part 2 - the coffee mug

Part 3 - the spicy song

Part 4 - the absence

Part 5 - the watch/the sweet song

Part 6 - the backrub

Warnings: None.

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“So,” Jess began, her eyes flicking up to gauge X’s reaction, “you and Miguel, huh? Can’t say I’m not surprised.”

She froze, her eyes widening with terror at the implication of Jess’s words. She swallowed her food slowly, trying to keep herself calm as she replied. “What about me and Miguel?”

“Oh, come on, X!” MJ gave her a light smack on the arm. “It’s so obvious that you guys like each other!” Another pause, another attempt at not choking on her food. Was it really? Did he like her? Like, like-like her? In the same way that she like-liked him? She kept her head down, trying to hide her blush from everyone else at the table.

“No way,” she protested weakly, pushing the last few grains of rice around her plate. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “There’s no way he likes me. Like that.” How could he? When he was so handsome and strong and smart and … and she was just her. Small and quiet and with absolutely nothing to offer him. She slumped over, disappointed.

“Of course he does!” Ben reassured her, noting her sudden drop in mood. “It’s so obvious even I can tell.” Her lips twitched at that, but she kept her head down, still hesitant to believe it.

“I don’t know,” she argued softly. She bit her lip, considering the next words out of her mouth. “What … Why do you think so?” She looked up at them, the nerves written plainly all over her face. She must really, really like him. Jess grinned.

“Girl, you should have seen him when you weren’t around,” she informed X, waving her spoon in the air enthusiastically. “The man was basically throwing a tantrum the entire day!”

“Oh my God, yes!” Ben agreed, his eyes wide as he leaned forward in his seat. “I asked him if we had any cashew nuts left and he got so mad at me! He started cursing and swearing and everything!” X let out an amused snort at the revelation, finally seeming to ease up a little. She returned her attention back to her food, rolling the rice around her plate.

“What does that have to do with me, though?” MJ and Ben sighed, both of them exchanging incredulous glances.

“Because!” MJ replied, insistent on making her understand. They’d be so cute together, after all, the big and grumpy Miguel who only ever let himself relax when he was around her, and the small and shy X who’d light up with excitement whenever she was with him. They made each other happy, and what more could anyone ask for?

“Hey guys,” Peter began, settling into the seat beside X. “What are we talking about?” He looked around at their faces, trying to discern the subject from the excited looks on Ben’s, MJ’s and Jess’s faces and the hesitant smile on X’s.

“Peter!” MJ exclaimed, her expression transforming into one of victory as she looked at him. “Tell her! Tell X how much Miguel missed her when she was gone.” Ohhh. So that’s what they’d been talking about. X glanced over at him nervously, her eyes wide as she waited for his answer.

“It’s true,” Peter revealed, giving her a gentle pat on the forearm. “He was practically counting down the days until you came back!” She grinned, then lowered her head, letting her hair fall over her face to hide her blush.

“Oh.” Her voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the happiness in it. Then suddenly, a vibration buzzed through the air, causing her to jump in her seat. She looked down at her wrist and began tapping frantically on her watch, trying to stop the notification that her vitals were abnormally high.

“X? What’s wrong?” She turned around, startled to find Miguel standing right behind her. She froze, panicked, then turned around quickly, curling into herself to hide her expression from him.

“Nothing!” She winced when her voice came out as a squeak. Then she cleared her throat and tried again. “Um, nothing. What’s up with you, Miguel?”

He’d heard - he’d heard everything they’d said about him being agitated when she’d been away. And then he’d heard her heart, pounding in her chest at the thought that he might have missed her. He swung his leg over the bench, taking the seat on her other side. Then he glanced around at the others, his eyes narrowing in suspicion beneath his eye protectors.

“Are they bullying you?” She turned to him, lips parting in horror at the suggestion.

“No! No, they’re … they’re not bullying me.” She waved her hands, then lowered her head again, her lips curling into a shy smile that had his own heart racing. She brushed her hair behind her ear, then flickered her eyes back up to his, peeking up at him from beneath her curly lashes. Dios, she was cute. He cleared his throat, shaking away the thought.

“Then why was your heart beating so fast, arañita?” Oh God. Had he heard? Had he heard her heart speeding up at the thought that he might like her? That she most definitely liked him? As more than a friend? She pulled her gaze away from his, trying to ignore the warmth radiating off of him, the pure masculine scent of him flooding her senses.

“Um, did you … did you hear that?” she asked him apprehensively. “Or did you get a notification?” The corner of his lips curled at her reaction. Could it really be true? Could she really have had a crush on him? A passing infatuation that would wear off once she knew the real him? His stomach curdled at the thought, his smile slipping slightly.

“I heard it,” he told her, wanting to tease her, to see that shy smile grace her lips once again. She tensed, her fingers curling into fists as she studiously avoided meeting his gaze. He lowered his head, his lips stretching wider as he tried to get her to look at him. “¿Qué pasa, arañita? Is something bothering you?”

He straightened when she looked up at him again, that devilish smirk taking over his features. God, he was so hot. She squeezed her legs tight, dragging her gaze away from his as she clasped her hands together. He carried on, undeterred by her lack of response. “Or someone?”

He reached out and scratched her waist lightly with his finger, causing her to let out a surprised squeak. He snickered at the sound, only getting more amused when her watch started buzzing again, signalling the increase in her heart rate. MJ reached across the table and punched him in the arm.

“Stop teasing her like that, Miguel!” she scolded him when he turned to glare at her. He returned his attention to X, raising an eyebrow and feigning confusion.

“I’m not teasing her,” he argued, convincing absolutely no one at the table. “I’m just worried about her vitals being so high.” She shifted in her seat uncomfortably, wondering if he knew exactly why she was getting so flustered right now.

“I just have a naturally high resting heart rate,” she protested, still avoiding his gaze. “And I have an anxiety disorder! Therefore, I would like to petition for the sensitivity of my watch to be turned down. Just a little?” She held up her finger and thumb, wincing as she awaited his response. He smirked again, holding his hand out for hers.

“Well, if your vitals are naturally so abnormally high,” he began, fiddling with her watch, “then maybe we should increase the sensitivity. Just a little.” He pulled on her wrist, tugging her closer to him so that her knee was pressing against his. She let out a little whimper and, mierda, the sound of it, the reminder of how absolutely tiny she was compared to him, it drove him wild. He leaned down slightly, bending over to murmur in her ear.

“After all,” he continued, his fingers still curled around her wrist, “we wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you, would we, arañita?” She looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted in surprise, so close he could have leaned forward and brushed his own against them. Then her watch started vibrating again, and she pulled her hand out of his grasp, holding it close to her chest as she frowned up at him. Dios, she was cute when she was mad.

“You’re so mean, Miguel!” she huffed, getting up from the bench. She picked up her plate, going over to return it to the kitchen, and he followed after her, catching up to her easily.

“Arañita,” he called, grabbing her wrist to get her to stop. “I was only joking, arañita.” She set her plate down, then turned around to face him, that adorable frown still etched onto her features. He took a step closer to her, forcing her to crane her neck back to look up at him.

“Here, let me fix it,” he reassured her, tapping on her watch again. She held her breath as he worked, trying to keep herself calm even though their proximity was making her heart leap out of her chest and into her throat. Finally, he released her, letting her arm fall back to her side. “There. It should be better now.”

“Um, thanks, Miguel.” She clasped her hands behind her back, that shy smile taking over her features as she shifted in place. “See you tomorrow!” And then she ran off without another word. He crossed his arms, trying not to let out a frustrated groan as he watched her retreating figure. Ay, ¡por Dios! Why did she have to be so f*cking cute?!

She wasn’t here again - something about going out with a friend. But it was okay this time, because he knew he’d see her tomorrow. That didn’t stop the uncomfortable ache in his chest that made him feel like his day was missing something though. He rubbed his chin, studying the data in front of him. There was something he wasn’t seeing, something that X would have stared at for a minute and then figured out somehow. Maybe he’d just wait for her to come back.

“Lyla?” She popped up beside him immediately.

“Yes, boss?”

“Play some of that music that X always plays.”

“Copy that. Pulling up her playlist now.” She disappeared and then the sound of old-timey pop music began filling the room - well, old-timey to him anyway. He furrowed his brow, not recalling having heard this song before - he’d listen in sometimes, when she put her earphones in to start playing her music: because it helped her focus, she’d told him when he’d asked her about it. He’d grabbed her phone then, showing her how to connect it to the speaker system so that she could just play it out loud in the lab or the control room. Her eyes had widened with amazement and she’d treated him to that sweet smile he was getting far too fond of as her music started playing around them. He’d waved her thanks away, doing his best to ignore the way his heart fluttered in his chest as he turned back to his monitors.

‘Son esas ganas de sentirte cerca, al pronunciar tu nombre …’ He paused for a second, surprised by the Spanish flowing through the speakers. He knew she listened to Spanish songs sometimes, French ones too, but it always made his heart skip a beat, the reminder that she could understand his native tongue.

‘Qué está pasando, que esa carita divina, se ha vuelto mi medicina, y poco a poco yo me estoy sanando …’ His lips curled at the lyrics, a very specific little face popping into his head immediately: thick, curly lashes framing large, almond-shaped eyes, her full lips so soft and rosy. She had seemed to pop up in his life right when he'd needed it the most. And she never asked him for anything, nothing except his company, the two of them sitting in contented silence for hours at a time. And everything always seemed so much easier whenever she was around, less … scary. Just like in the song. He pulled out his tools, setting the data aside and deciding to work on some gadgets instead. He’d take a little break, come back to the problem after he’d given his brain some time to reset. And maybe she’d be back by then, there to lend a fresh set of eyes to the problem. But then the music started to fade away, the song changing to a new one, and he looked up, frowning.

“Lyla,” he called her back, “play the other one again. The Spanish one.” The song restarted and he felt his lips quirk at the ends again, the tension leaving his body as he settled down to get some work done.

She’d had fun today; going out with her friend to get some shopping done. But, of course, it still wasn’t as fun as hanging out with Miguel. So she’d changed into her suit when she’d gotten back, opening up a portal to take her to HQ. An unexpected sight greeted her when she entered the control room, however - or an unexpected sound, rather. Miguel stood on the platform, bobbing his head in time with the music as he fiddled with a gadget, his smooth, deep voice mumbling along to the lyrics of one of her favourite songs.

“Miguel?” she called to him, trying not to laugh as she webbed up to stand beside him. “What are you doing?”

¡Coño! He dropped his tools, startled by her sudden arrival. He hadn’t even heard her walk in, so absorbed had he been in the song. But what was she even doing here anyway? She wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow. She looked up at him, lips stretched into a wide smile, her face lit up with amusement as she waited for his answer.

“Uh …” he began slowly, trying to come up with a response. He gritted his teeth, flashing her an embarrassed grimace as he muttered out of the side of his mouth. “Lyla! Turn it off!” Thankfully, she did as he said, turning off the music without arguing back - for once. He let out an awkward chuckle.

“Uh, what are you doing here, arañita?” he asked. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to make it today.” She continued grinning at him, a hint of shyness tinging the edges of her knowing expression.

“Well, I … I wanted to see you,” she confessed, breaking his gaze for a moment. Then she looked up at him again, her features rearranged into an expression of mischief this time. “I didn’t know you missed me.”

“Oh.” He broke her gaze, afraid to use that word specifically to describe how he’d been feeling without her there. “Uh, well, it was just a little quiet, that's all.” He turned back to his desk, fiddling with the gadget there as he figured out what to say.

“Hmm.” She nodded thoughtfully and took a step closer to him, trying to tamp the happiness starting to bubble up in her chest. Had he really missed her? Just like the others had said? Just like she'd missed him? She kept her gaze fixed on his hands as she leaned into him, her eyes tracking the movements of his long fingers as he twisted and fidgeted with the gadget. “I missed you too, Miguel.”

He froze again, unsure if he’d heard right. He glanced over at her and found her gaze trained on the ground as she smiled and shifted on the spot shyly. His stomach flipped at the sight and he dragged his eyes away from her, tapping on the table nervously as he digested her response. She’d missed him - she’d missed him even though she’d only seen him yesterday. How much had she missed him then, that week she’d been away? As much as he’d missed her? He shook his head at the sudden thought, not wanting to admit how he felt about her - not even to himself. He bit his lip, thinking. Then he cleared his throat and returned his attention to the computer, pulling up the dataset he’d been having trouble with earlier.

“Uh, I … I was having some trouble analysing this data, arañita,” he informed her, turning to face her without meeting her gaze. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “Could you take a look at it?”

Of course he’d never use the word ‘help’ - probably an oldest sibling thing, considering how she still struggled to ask for help too, sometimes. She grinned, delighted by how well she was beginning to know him, how soft and easy everything was with him. She clasped her hands behind her back and turned her attention to the screen, trying to keep her heart beat steady as she studied the data in front of her.

“Okay, yeah, this is … not right,” she told him, lips still curled into an amused smile. He raised an eyebrow, confused.

“What do you mean?” She stretched onto her toes and pointed at a set of numbers that didn’t seem to fit with the rest.

“These numbers make no sense at all,” she informed him, lowering herself back down again. “I don’t know if you accidentally typed in the wrong numbers or something, but … this ain’t right, boss.” It was the way she always said it, that playful smile on her face, that teasing tone of her voice. Dios, it drove him mad. He tucked his hands under his arms, his muscles clenching as his stomach gave another flip.

“Vale, I’ll … I’ll go back and check the raw data,” he acquiesced, waving her away, needing her to leave so that he could work on getting his emotions back under his control again. “You should go home, arañita: it’s getting late.”

He was so cute, the way he kept rubbing the back of his neck or clearing his throat or pulling his gaze away from hers. Was he nervous? Around her? Now she wished she had some of his super senses, so she could hear his heartbeat and be sure of it. She tugged her chair over and sank back into it, swivelling around as she looked up at the screen. “I’ll wait. We can go through the data together.”

She turned to him, smiling up at him in a way that made his heart stop beating in his chest. And he wondered what it would sound like, hearing the words ‘I love you’ fall from those lips, what they would taste like beneath his own, her body small and soft in his hands. Just like in the song. He tensed up, suddenly realising the direction his thoughts had been going in, and turned away from her quickly. He was being ridiculous. They were just … colleagues. Just two strangers thrown together by unfortunate circumstances. Just … His stomach curdled with each excuse, the words weighing heavily on his heart. Even he hated how they sounded in his mind. He slid his gaze over to her and she smiled at him again, waiting. But he couldn't let himself indulge in … whatever this was. They'd only get hurt and she might not have been able to see that, but he … he knew better. He gripped the edge of the table, considering his next words.

“Uh, actually,” he began slowly, trying to come up with a lie that would get her to leave. Not something that would hurt her though - he knew he wouldn't be able to stand the crestfallen expression on her face if he hurt her. If anyone hurt her. “I was just going to get someone else to take a look at it. You said you'd have a lot to do at work this week, so I already got someone else to cover all your stuff.” He waved her off in a way that he hoped was an adequate mix of dismissal and reassurance. Not so dismissive as to make her think she wasn't valuable, but not so reassuring as to convince her that she meant more to him than anyone else at HQ. It was perfect.

She pursed her lips, thinking. She could see how careful he was to control his instinct to push people away. He was still afraid to let her get too close - hence the dismissal - but a part of him seemed to have begrudgingly accepted that she wouldn't be pushed away so easily. He was trying, and that was all she'd asked for. So, she wouldn't push him. She stood up and took a step closer to him, her brain running through all the possible responses she could leave him with. And then, she found it.

Tags: @leahnicole1219

“Great,” she replied unexpectedly, sidling up to him. “That means I get to spend more time with you.” She flashed him a cheeky smile, then opened up a portal to take her home, not giving him the chance to respond. Not that he would have had a response anyway: what could he say, after all, when she'd told him she'd missed him? When she'd said she liked spending time with him, just the two of them alone together? When he'd started to like it too? He sank back into his seat, clutching at his hair in frustration as he sighed loudly. Por Dios, she was going to be the death of him one day.

[bloodbladesanddemons]

what was Sekido and Chizue' second meeting like? How did she cross paths with him again?

Fun fact: Sekido actually sought her out the second time they met haha! I'll give you a taste...

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After her encounter with Sekido and Karaku, Chizue didn’t go out much after nightfall. It wasn’t that she was afraid per se, but she didn’t want to get mixed up in something like that ever again. What relieved her the most was that she was able to make it out of that incident alive. For the next couple of days, she spent her time organizing the hunting parties for their trip and her nights went by without any problems. Some of the villagers noticed that she had become less active during the night and inquired why. Upon that inquiry, Chizue would brush it off, saying that she was just preparing for the hunting trip, knowing that they would be very active these next few days. Many of the populus believed her and left her alone after the question.

Until, one fated evening as she was preparing to retire for the night, Chizue opened her door to dump out a bucket of water, her eyes widened in horror as she saw the demon she encountered those nights ago, now standing in her doorframe.

Sekido’s red eyes were ablaze and his teeth were bared.

A flurry of questions invaded her mind. Why was he here? How did he find her? Was he going to kill her? What was his motive for coming here? 

She saw his staff shimmer as if he was about to attack, but as soon as his words left his mouth, she was left more confused than afraid.

“How dare you!” He growled.

Her brow furrowed in bewilderment.

How dare she? What did that mean?

“I-I don’t-” she began. Her hands were trembling and the water threatened to escape as her strength began to wane.

“What game are you playing?!” He demanded. Chizue stood there flabbergasted, unsure of how to respond until his demanding tone forced her to answer. “Well? Speak!”

“I’m not sure I understand. I have done nothing.” 

Sekido’s eye twitched from her answer. She had to be playing dumb. She must be. Or she was biding her time until she was rescued. But as she continued, he couldn’t help but pause, “If you’re speaking of what happened nights ago, I have not shared what occurred.”

She prayed that he believed her but his face said otherwise. Chizue jumped when she a pair of abnormally green eyes manifested next to Sekido, and that was when the bucket finally fell from her grasp. It hit the ground making a clattering sound as it did, the water splashing out on the ground. She thanked the gods that none of it landed on the demon in front of her, but who was-?

“She’s even prettier when she’s scared.” Karaku hummed.

This was bad.....

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Thanks for the ask!!!

[xoxopandapanda]

InuKag Week 2023: Day 1: Love Language(s)

@inukag-week

Day 1  Day 2  Day 3  Day 4  Day 5  Day 6  Day 7

AO3 

Fanfiction

He hadn’t really dealt with other people in any other capacity than a hostile one for most of his life, so Inuyasha didn’t always know how to read another person in the way someone socialized when young could. He struggled with always feeling as if the people around him were just waiting on baited breath to show him their hostility, and often believed others to be a threat to him when they were perhaps tying to do the right thing by him.

He was quick to snarl and snap at anyone who presented even a mild inconvenience to him, his mind always looking for threats that were not always there.

Kagome had squeezed into his life (starting with being squeezed to him by the madame caterpillar), and was never actually put off by his behavior. He would cut her off, insult her left and right, accuse her of things she didn’t do, and yet she still stuck around.

“Jerk.” His quip about her having slow legs was apparently louder than he intended. “You’re just abnormally fast.” She tossed him a look over her shoulder. “Not everyone is as athletic as you.”

Intended as an insult most likely, her words hit him differently. She thought he was athletic. Not a freak, not an abomination.

Athletic. The word bounced around in his head for the rest of the day.

Souta had told him once that women liked athletic men. He hadn’t really understood what that word was (and honestly still didn’t), but Kagome had used it to describe him.

Did that mean Kagome liked him? Like liked him?

Inuyasha used whatever excuse he could to go see Souta and ask more about what it meant to be athletic, much to Kagome’s dismay.

The two of them had huffed loudly at each other for a few minutes before she ran off to ‘study’ with some friends that Inuyasha had a vague notion existed. He knew they knew he was important to Kagome and that was all that mattered. He had established himself as a part of Kagome’s life and they were friendly to him mostly.

“Souta.” He announced, sitting down next to the boy as he played on the ‘television’. Bright lights and bouncing shapes filled his peripheral, but his focus was on Kagome’s brother.

Souta didn’t look at him. “What’s up?”

“What is an athletic man?”

Souta froze. The bouncing shapes stopped and a descending noise of disappointment left the TV. Inuyasha knew that meant Souta had lost (although what he lost was still a mystery). “What do you mean?” Souta looked at him with the same bewildered look Kagome had given him hundreds of times.

Inuyasha huffed and leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest. “You told me women like athletic men. What is an athletic man?”

Souta’s face relaxed as he leaned back on his hands and shrugged. “It’s a guy who is good at sports.”

“Sports?” Inuyasha furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Yeah, like running, jumping, hitting balls.” Inuyasha’s lean in and further crinkled face told Souta that his explanation was not working. “Using arrows to hit things? Swinging swords? Punching?”

“Fighting?”

Souta pondered for a second before saying, “Yeah, fighting without the killing part.”

Inuyasha nodded fiercely. “I’m good at that.”

Souta wondered if he meant fighting or not killing, but figured he didn’t really want an answer. “Athletic men have muscles and are good at sports.”

“I have muscles. And I’m good at sports.” Inuyasha’s chest puffed out as he sat ramrod straight. “I’m an athletic man.”

Inuyasha stood up abruptly and announced, fist pumping in the air. “I’m an athletic man, and Kagome must LIKE ME.”

Souta didn’t have time to react properly before Inuyasha had vanished from the house. Grandpa walked into the room, confusion drenched across his features. “What was that?” He asked his grandson.

Souta locked eyes with the older man. “I don’t know but I don’t know if it’s a good thing. Something tells me Kagome’s not going to be pleased with it.”

Kagome probably would not have been pleased with Inuyasha’s newly form conclusion that she was all but professing her love by calling him athletic. Instead, she was left in the dark as she, and by proxy the rest of the Inugumi, dealt with Inuyasha’s new found confidence and boldness.

Miroku had to leave Kaede’s hut when Kagome came back from her break in the future as to not insult his friend by accident.

Inuyasha had waited, not patiently but not anxiously either, for Kagome to walk in the door and loudly announce. “Kagome! You are athletic!”

Not expecting any sort of announcement of the kind from her half-demon friend, especially not a nice one, Kagome balked and rolled onto her heels from startlement. “Excuse me?”

“You are athletic!” Inuyasha repeated himself, his face becoming slightly flushed. “Am I athletic?” His voice dropped a bit with this question.

Miroku slunk past the priestess in training, covering his face and clenching his jaw. Whatever was going on was wild at best, and inappropriate at worst. Best to leave before it got worse and he had to mediate a solution.

Kagome moved to the side to the let the monk pass her in the door frame, her eyes still locked on Inuyasha, mind racing to figure out what was going on. If it was anyone else, she would have thought this was a prank happening. But Inuyasha was the most sincere and honest person she had ever met, so what was doing?

Kagome’s mouth opened and closed once, before she agreed. “Yeah, you’re athletic.”

“And that’s good, right?” Inuyasha’s voice was even smaller.

Kagome nodded, slipping her loafers off and stepping into the room. “Of course. It’s a great thing to be athletic.” She avoided making eye contact with anyone as she placed her backpack down and got settled in for the night. Whatever had sparked this outburst was not something she wanted to engage with, and she secretly hoped that by playing along with whatever had just happened would encourage Inuyasha to drop the fixation on being athletic.

Inuyasha let out a loud and pleased huff, squatting down to go through her backpack looking for snacks. Kagome took a chance to look over at Sango, who was sitting down, mouth agape, staring at Inuyasha’s back. At mentally connecting with Kagome, Sango shook her head and Kaede let out an audible snicker, causing Shippo to loudly ask, “What’s athletic?”

No one answered the child’s question, as no one wanted the experience to continue and he was easily distracted by candy.

Kagome would later learn what exactly was going on when Inuyasha told Koga off by shouting “Kagome likes me because I’m athletic! LIKE LIKES ME!”

Apparently, she had found a new love language with him.

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Snow (Tobin Heath x Reader)

It's the middle of spring where I live and we just got proper snow in my town for the first time in 11 years. So, of course I decided to write a short, cute fic about it.

Words: 900

I was woken up by someone shaking my shoulder. I groaned pulling away, hoping it would stop, "Baby, baby wake up."

"What?" I mumbled, trying to cuddle further into the blankets to escape the cold. It was abnormally cold for the time of year. Some sort of polar ice blast or something.

Tobin kissed my shoulder before pulling the blankets down, "Wake up, I need you to come outside."

"What time is it?"

"1 am."

"Noo, it's cold. I'm tired, go away," I whined pulling the blankets back up.

She chuckled before kissing my shoulder again, then behind my ear and cheek. I already couldn't say no to her at the best of times, my resolve broke further with every kiss, "Please baby, trust me."

Reluctantly, I got out of bed, got dressed and followed Tobin to the door. She handed me a jacket leaving me confused, "Just put it on. It's cold outside."

"Then why are we going outside."

Tobin wrapped her arms around me, "Stop complaining and open the door."

When I opened the door, I couldn't believe it, it felt like I was still dreaming. I stepped further outside, taking in the thick layer of white powder coated the ground, trees and cars. Tobin stood next to me, a grin plastered on face.

"Is this?"

"Snow."

I couldn't stop the laugh that escaped as I ran down the stairs scooping up a handful of snow. It was freezing, but I didn't care. I was just excited about the snow. This was the first time I had ever seen snow. It was always something I wanted to see at least once in my life. Tobin joined me just as the snow started falling again, she hated the cold, but she still had a huge grin on her face. If I had to guess, it was probably because of how child like I was acting. I was just so excited. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close and connecting our lips. I had always wanted to kiss someone as snow was falling. "Thank you."

"I remembered that you always wanted to see snow so when I got up and saw it, I knew I had to risk death to wake you up."

I laughed at that. Anyone who knew me knows that you should never wake me up unless absolutely necessary. Even Tobin is in danger on my grumpiness. Once I put the gloves on, Tobin kissed me again quickly, "Just know that I love you Y/n."

That confused me until I felt something cold and wet hit my face. I stood in shock for a second before bending down and scooping up some snow and throwing it back at her. We went back and forth throwing snowballs at each other until I tackled her to the ground. I grabbed a small bit of snow before my hands slipped under her shirt making her squeal. She wasn't wearing a bra so I managed to slide my hands all the way up to her chest before she tried to squirm away.

Tobin let out a quiet moan before pouting, "You're mean."

"Don't act like you don't like this baby, you're not fooling anyone." I trailed my fingers down her stomach, "Maybe I'll put my cold hands to good use."

"Baby, I'm not going to have sex with you in the front yard. Not with Jade watching."

Jade was my roommate and the one who actually introduced me to Tobin, I glanced behind me and sure enough she was standing on the porch. I leant down, biting her ear gently, "If she wasn't there, you'd be begging me."

Tobin moaned again then cleared her throat, "Let's go inside."

I rolled off her so I was lying on the snow leaving a flustered looking Tobin next to me, "Not yet. I want to make snow angels." After a couple more minutes, I started to get really cold so I reluctantly stood up, pulling Tobin with me, "Let's go inside."

"Y/n wait." Tobin stopped me before I started walking. She took my hands with her shaking ones, "Do you remember when we went to that carnival on our fourth date and you helped that kid win a teddy bear?" I nodded, slightly confused as to why she brought it up, "Well, that was when I knew you were the one for me. Not necessarily when I knew I wanted to marry you, but when I knew that there was no one else I wanted to go on dates with or stay up all night talking with, you were the one I wanted to be around all the time, do things with, whether it was going to a carnival or running errands, all I knew was that I wanted to do it with you. The longer we're together, the more I fall in love with you, even more than I ever thought possible. There is no one else in this world that I want to do life with, from the exciting and fun to the boring and mundane. I want life with you Y/n, for as long as you'll have me."

Tears formed in my eyes as she got down on one knee, not even caring about the snow, "Will you marry me Y/n?"

"Yes, a thousand times yes." I pulled her up, connecting our lips in a long kiss. Tobin pulled away, slipping the ring onto my finger. I hugged her tightly, "I can't believe you proposed to me in the snow."

"I had been trying to plan the perfect proposal for months now, but when I saw the snow I knew it was perfect. I even had Jade took some photos."

"You are amazing Tobin, I love you. Even though you beat me to proposing."

"I love you too Y/n. Now let's go get warmed up."

[cymoseria]

yuu in glorious masquerade event

since malleus decided to come home early, it made me feel like i wanting to share my thought about this event (it really got nothing to do with that fact actually). in the current masquerade event, a lot of people have been speculating that malleus will sort of get the role of esmeralda due to how it seems like rollo (ロロ)–which is the twst version of frollo–has a questionable obsession towards him. i don’t know how much of that will be correct or how much the story follows the plot of the hunchback of notre dame (1996), but i think the possibility is really likely.

but then, what about yuu? i don’t think that we will simply get the role of a silent audience knowing that the principal had pushed us into going to the symposium. and i’m pretty sure everyone realized that in the main story, that’s closely following the plot of their each respective movie, yuu has always sided with the ones that have the role of the heroes, if not being the hero themselves (alice in chapter 1, simba in chapter 2, ariel in chapter 3, aladdin in chapter 4, a little exception in chapter 5, and hercules in chapter 6). so how about this event?

i’m currently relying on translation while following the story of this event, but it seems like rollo almost has a soft spot for yuu based on how he interacts with them? from what i see, it looks like he pities yuu for being the only magicless student in a school full of magicians. saying that it must have been tiring for yuu for dealing with that fact every single day. and you know who that interactions remind me of? quasimodo.

we know that in the movie, quasimodo was seen as an abnormality, someone that’s not in the same standing as everyone else due to his unique condition. but despite how much frollo despised him, deep down there was still an ounce of pity that he actually felt for him because of his condition (maybe it didn’t exactly being shown in the movie though). and despite how awful he treated quasimodo, quasimodo believed him to be the only person that truly cared about his well-being, even though those act of “kindness” was actually just a ruse to hide him. but it’s also true that despite everything, frollo still raised and taught him enough.

now back on to rollo and yuu. first, he knew well enough that yuu is magicless. he kinda put special care for them since they’re different from the rest of the students, almost like how frollo put special care for quasimodo. but of course with more manner since yuu came from another school. then when the nrc students split into groups for field works, he specifically asked what yuu would be doing. he seemed to care enough for them to be worried on whatever they’d do. well, of course we can assume that he’s genuinely concerned about yuu for being magicless and all, but it doesn’t erase the possibility that what he’s actually worried about was that words could get out that there’s a magicless student that attended a symposium in the renowned nbc. maybe not to that extreme, but just something along the way. we still can’t trust this man after all.

oh and don’t forget about the fact how yuu had a special relation with malleus. so if he got the role of esmeralda in this event, then of course there’s a possibility that yuu would have the role of quasimodo as well. and maybe then they’ll have more screen time together interacting with each other? let’s hope so.

[eviltothecore13]

OK so...Wesker is a weird person in a lot of ways (and I love him for it), we all know that, but...I do find it strange when people write him as if he’s literally from another planet and arrived on earth yesterday?

Like, I see portrayals of Wesker where he acts like a robot or a Vulcan and is immediately offputting/weirds people out even when he’s trying to act normal and blend in, and where everyone at STARS sees him as suspicious, cold, unfriendly, unlikeable...even though canonically he was well-liked, trusted and respected by the whole team, and according to Kenichi Iwao he was admired and seen as cool. And what we see of his interactions with the team while he’s still pretending to be on their side are...not overly formal or unnatural or in any way abnormal for a boss talking to subordinates in an organisation such as STARS?

Sometimes in fic he’s depicted as completely unfamiliar with all slang, even slang that existed when he was a teenager, or even phrases that aren’t really slang but are just slightly casual. And no, he wasn’t kept locked up in a lab for his entire childhood/teenage years...he got a PhD at 17, which means he was at university pretty much from age 11 onwards. (Even before that, the files don’t actually suggest he was literally raised in a lab, just raised and supervised/monitored by Umbrella employees...he shows far more skills in interacting with people than someone who was isolated throughout their childhood would be, and considering that leadership and skill in manipulating people were both valued by the project, and that they wanted to raise ambitious kids who could be successful in whatever field they chose, and apparently succeeded in this goal, it’s likely that the kids got a lot of practice at interacting with people from an early age.)

University involves interacting with people--working with them, living with them, and spending time around them for any extracurriculars (you can’t tell me this dramatic bitch wasn’t a theatre kid) or sports (which I believe some background info or writer comments somewhere say he excelled in? I can’t see him playing team sports, but even non-team-based sports involve interacting with other people, especially at university and especially if you’re good enough to compete...).

Wesker talks *fairly* formally most of the time himself (and he seemingly can’t say “fuck”), and I’m sure there are plenty of phrases he would be unfamiliar with (especially ones that didn’t exist when he was a teenager, or more regional stuff), but the idea he wouldn’t understand a single colloquial phrase and needs everything worded like a lab report at all times is just too far. (And is contradicted by how we see him talking to people in the games...the guy makes a “cops are pigs” joke in RE1, come on, he won’t be totally lost every time someone uses a phrase that’s not really formal.)

...Talking of jokes, he has a sense of humour. Both in terms of sarcasm, and truly terrible puns like “your future HINGES upon this fight!”. He’s not 100% grim and humourless and serious all the time, he’s not going to get angry with people at STARS for displaying the slightest hint of a sense of humour (remember, he was a “moderate and fair” leader).

(So, yes, Wesker probably would say “apartment complex? I find it quite simple”, but because he has a terrible and painful sense of humour--not because he’s never heard of an apartment complex.)

He’s also not totally clueless about pop culture--far from it, given that he’s one of only two Capcom characters (the other being Viewtiful Joe whose entire personality is based around being a fanboy) to recognise the Marvel characters in MVC3 (this was pre-MCU, too, so this ACTUALLY makes him a nerd and not just someone who doesn’t live under a rock)--and you can’t tell me him stealing moves from Street Fighter and The King Of Fighters, or starting to dress like a Matrix character after getting Matrix powers, is a coincidence. Netflix show canon adding Star Trek to that list is honestly quite fitting. (This is of course in addition to him being very familiar with non-pop-culture, referencing things like mythology and having a lot of books in his office at STARS, playing piano offscreen in Lost In Nightmares, etc.)

Occasionally I’ve even seen him depicted as totally unaware of anything that goes on the world (e.g. politics, even though he shows quite a bit of awareness of that at least as it relates to his job and I feel like it’s more in-character for him to want to keep up with the news and be aware of stuff, he’s not someone who narrowly focuses on just his research, he’s someone who likes to be knowledgeable in a wide variety of areas) and unable to function outside of a lab. Like...no, that’s Will if it’s anyone...Arklay was only accessible by helicopter for a few years, true, though it later became more accessible e.g. by train from Raccoon City (by the time of the mansion incident, files like the keeper’s diary mention Arklay employees visiting partners/family/etc on days off, so it doesn’t seem to have stayed totally isolated for long), but...they still have phones, they have computers, and Wesker as chief researcher likely travelled to Umbrella conferences etc, not to mention spending 6 years in the army, and anywhere else he might have travelled to on missions as an intelligence agent...he’s also definitely not living at Arklay while he’s at STARS, he’s only there occasionally, he almost certainly just lives in Raccoon City at this point. (Comics!Wesker also has a wakizashi on his desk, making it quite likely he’s been to Japan...obviously that’s not canon, but it was present in concept art for the games, I like to think the only reason it’s not there in RE2 is that he took it with him.) There really isn’t much evidence for him being extremely isolated/never having left Arklay.

And there’s a lot of evidence for him being very skilled at interacting with people, as a leader (officer in the Army; trusted and well-liked at STARS; managed to get a bunch of older/more experienced scientists to listen to and obey him as chief researcher when he was just 18) and in terms of manipulating people, rising up through the ranks at various organisations, etc...he’s pretty much an expert at getting people on his side, getting them to like him, gaining their trust, it doesn’t make sense for him to act like an alien who just landed on earth/someone who lives under a rock/etc in social situations.

(Some of these fics also make him extremely awkward or repressed when it comes to sex and uh...we’re talking about someone who dresses in tight leather outfits with a COLLAR, has lines like “I’ll play with you” and “Submit” in MVC3 along with some almost as Interesting lines in the games, generally said with the kind of smirk that suggests he knows EXACTLY what he’s saying. I’m not a fan of the versions of him that are having sex with every other character in the series either, I think he considers most people to not be worth his time/attention/interest on that front, but I don’t think he’s repressed.)

[lem-argentum]

hi hi here’z a post of me rambling about some of the things in shadow.bringers, because i predicted i would be abnormal about it and i was right. 💛💛 <)

1. FIRST OF ALL. character writing. early into the game i remember reading someone say that shb improves a lot in giving you a lot of character moments. and i remember not entirely believing it because this game is usually so plot-driven that characters’ feelings are not the spotlight? and you especially don’t talk to them one-on-one in depth about emotions or anything. BUT AS IT TURNS OUT. THEY *WERE* TELLING THE TRUTH

from very early in..!! when you reunite with ali.saie and you have that talk with her on the tower overlooking the flood. VERY GOOD moment. just the two of you, her expanding on feelings that were introduced to you post-stb and prior, further establishing the relationship you have with her in a meaningful way. it sets up the fact that.!!! moments like this continue happening through the whole story forward…!!! lots of them…!!!! and it was so unanticipated on my side that when th.ancred just started talking to us about his struggles & insecurities in nuvy’s leavings i was like HUH!!!!!!??? AMND IT KEEPS HAPPENING. HELPS YOU CARE PROPERLY FOR THE CHARACTERS AND LETS YOU FEEL CLOSE WITH THEM. EMOTIONS FEEL LIKE THEY’RE GIVEN THE ATTENTION THAT THEY NEED, ITS GOOD. <3

2. tge setting. awesome. the premise is compelling all in itself. “world plagued by eternal light + essentially a zombie apocalypse with angelical beings” is a strong base especially in juxtaposition to earlier plots where the main threats are nothing like it. and the story leads you through different areas in such a smooth way, each introducing to you the effects of the flood on the people and auaug it’s got cool worldbuilding in it. <3 it’s not at all without its flaws (kholusia is super interesting in idea i’m a huge fan of “location has something deeply wrong with it but its residents are unaware” concepts, but, ya know. vau.thry’s whole deal could have been much better, hm……..!) but i’m in love with lots of it….. leadinf into:

3. emet-s.elch. making him a section is kind of funny HEKFK I THOUGHT HE WAS A GOOD VILLAIN. have not thought about him enough to super elaborate but the themes around him + amaurot are so oouuuououg. good. amaurot was such a change in atmosphere from places we’ve seen before and the ENERGY. was SO. AUGH. (its theme, the ticking clock, the the the….!!.!) having its destruction be a dungeon was also a great idea. having us go through the calamity ourselves to experience what it was like & the loss he’s been dealing with for eons. it’s cool. OH AND TALKING SPECIFIC CHARACTERS:

4. ARDBERTTTTTTTTTTT. MY FRIEND. MY BESTIE. I HAVENT MENTIONED HIM BEFORE. BUT HE’S EVERYTHING. you could argue he has one of the best narratives out of any character here ever. the scenes you share with him are so so special i understand why people like him so much. warriors of darkness my beloved your writing gives me So Much Feeling.

5. The Themes. in general. okay SO. you could really write an essay on how shb feels like it was written for suicidal people. truly. at the very beginning you are introduced to the premise of “your friends have figured out that you are destined to die. and they have spent their past years trying to stop it.” and that’s not the entire deal, you all still have a world to save, the focus is on that, but that theme is still there, in the background, and whenever it shows itself it is so potent. to me.

this game has a core of hope and survival and it’s a central point constantly. but in shb…. it feels most directed at you. the exarch tells you to survive at all costs, that it’s the one request he must impose on you. to “burn bright again, and live.” ali.saie has you promise against self-sacrifice (several times, actually!). and with the way everything is worded, it’s hard not to feel like the message is from real people, urging you to stay.

when the warrior of light is, well. consumed by the light. when emet tells you, in front of everyone, how much of a danger you will be, how you will inevitably hurt and ruin everyone around you — the only thing on their minds is curing you. not getting rid of you, even with all the world’s corruption inside of you. you wake up in a soft bed and are told of how busy everyone has been, desperately searching for any other route for you. (and, of course, that’s the obvious course of action for people who care about you, but to players who struggle to see that as at all reasonable, it means something…!!)

you see the light in the sky above you and KNOW it’s because of you that it’s there. that if you were gone the first would be free. and then you are told that there is hope, that you and everyone else will find another ending to this, and if they can’t, they will forge one. and everyone insists on being by your side even when who you are could bring about their doom at any moment. and ITS GOOD………!!!!!!!!!!!!!

all this to say: i understand why this is most players’ favorite expansion. um. game good, meant a lot to me. :’) THE END <3.

(AND TAKING A MOMENT TO PUT MY FAVORITE SHB TRACKS HERE, OK? OK <3. special shoutouts to to fire and sword (HELL YES.), sands of blood and the quick way (the night themes being so intentionally calm & elegant compared to their daytime counterparts really makes you think doesn’t it.), mortal instants (yeaahhhhhhhg. <3), who brings shadow (THE CROWD ERUPTS IN CHEER). OKAY THE END <333)

[vinmauro]

Fic Title Game: your words are like gasoline

this is giving me enemies to lovers. two people in close proximity who have to spend their days together and they hate it. i was originally going to do edancy bc they speak to me always but i’m actually thinking that i might do stali. i rewatched the lost sister while thinking about this so i have all the kali thoughts and feels. and now i’m thinking about a canon divergence fic where kali came back for el to help defeat vecna and they do blah blah blah. and she decides to stay with el and her policeman and ends up getting a job. one of those ultimatum bullshit deals hopper makes. and where does she get a job now that robin’s left for college? at family video.

your words are like gasoline

you’ve got to be shitting me. that was her first thought as the orange dusted man handed her an ugly green vest with a pin placed over the breast. the material was scratchy and not in a good way. the pin read: how can i help? get her out of this podunk town for starts. if it wasn’t for jane, kali would have split months ago. it’s what she was good at, moving on, finding somewhere new to cause mayhem before moving on again. never be stationary. that was one of her rules. kali had a lot of rules for someone who didn’t care for society’s rules. she didn’t, of course, she believed that the people should self-govern and be themselves. which is why she has her own personal rules. 1. don’t get caught. 2. never stay in one place too long. 3. don’t get attached. they were all perfectly sound and logical rules. ones she didn’t make a habit of breaking. she did not get caught, ever, which is great considering she probably would have looked worse in orange. but even as she put on the vest, feeling her insides crawl as she did so, she broke rule number two. she’s been in hawkins for months. pretty much all summer and now it’s fall, with halloween just around the corner, and she was just hired to work at family video. kali couldn’t even remember the last film she’s watched, not a lot of time to go to the cinema as someone constantly on the run. her stomach felt weird. kali didn’t do nerves or anxiety. it was useless to fret over the inevitable and the uncomfortable. she lived in those spaces, purposely and spitefully. this feeling in her gut and chest felt abnormal. she hated it. she hated it more as it worsened when she was introduced to her coworker. the guy she’ll have to spend all of her shifts with as the manager, mr. processed cheese dust works at the arcade next door. her coworker seemed nice. clean cut, in a striped polo and jeans without a rip in sight, and the same ugly vest she had to wear over her torn to shreds outfit. his hair was about as high as hers but painfully plain. no dye, no shaved bits. he was a fucking cookie cutter model citizen. “you have got to be shitting me.” the worst part of it, the bit that twisted her stomach up more, was that steve harrington didn’t like her. it was evident to her from the first moment they met, the protective way he distrusted her and she only made matters worse by getting into his head. since then any run in they had together resulted in bickering and insults. usually about each other’s warring appearances or something equally as shallow and petty. sometimes they’d say something aimed to hurt at the other which left the tension between them thicker and uncomfortable. even though seeing him made her feel different, she tried to revel in just how uncomfortable she made steve harrington. maybe she just liked watching him squirm. that crinkle in between his eyebrows. the way his lower lip juts just slightly when he’s annoyed. maybe she just liked looking at him. wait. no. that can’t be it.

send me a made up fic title and i’ll tell you what i’d write

[teamhawkeye]

if you popped into the Ted tag in the past two or three days, you might have been hit with the sight of a supposed DM between “him” and a fan:

however, this appears entirely false and i’m fairly certain i can prove it’s fake:

1.) Ted doesn’t talk like that. it is the most jarring part of all, aside from that this was probably entirely fabricated altogether. i’m not saying i’m privvy to his DMs or texts and how he messages people but it’s so far off from how he interacts with people on social media that it genuinely doesn’t read as him at all

2.) the misaligned text and the randomly fluctuating text size. the text size is not congruent throughout, the first message is abnormally larger than the next 3 lines, and those lines don’t match each other at all - even with the shot taken at an angle as it is, they would not look like that tilted. it is not leveled flat and straight like normal text would - nothing about it matches what an actual message layout would appear as

3.) there is not a single timestamp or date included. it is impossible to hide timestamps with the current instagram UI at the very start of correspondence in DMs

let me walk you through it-

screenshots of DMs through iPhone:

screenshots of DMs through Android/Samsung:

you can only get the giant PFP, the followers count, post counts, whether or not you follow each other, and any accounts you both follow from the very start of your DM correspondence - meaning this only shows up with the very first messages you send to an account. after sending more messages, the block of account information is no longer visible as it gets pushed up by further exchanged texts

you will also always have a date and/or timestamp at the top of the beginning of your first DMs, that’s not exclusive to one phone or tablet OS - the app itself is fairly congruent between different brands and their OSs. it is also not exclusive to accounts that follow each other or not

any other DMs from that point on will look generially like this:

you can literally only get the giant PFP, follower count, post count, etc. from the very start of your correspondence, it disappears with the more messages exchanged. and it will not appear anywhere else except on mobile or tablet

all DMs look like this from desktop - it doesn’t matter which browser, because i tested it on Firefox, Chrome, and Edge (screenshots i can also share, if you want them) and they all are the same:

dates and timestamps still at the top of the start of message threads - you cannot remove dates and timestamps from the beginning of direct correspondence with the way the instagram UI is now - it will always show the date and/or time the very first message was sent. and the block of instagram account information will only appear at the very start of messages first being exchanged

also, the big PFP, follower count, post count, etc. is not available  through desktop, only mobile and tablet, so it cannot be duplicated anywhere else

there is too much not adding up and the fact that it has proven impossible to replicate through conventional means leads me to believe and state with conviction that it is fake, manufactured

i’m not sure which app was used to do it, but based on how the picture was taken - the angle and the distance - leads me to believe a watermark or app interface was cropped out purposefully. there are multiple apps and sites out there that can be used to create such fake interactions, but beyond not knowing just which one was used, i’m also not going to exhaust myself trying to search more than i have

could i be wrong? yes, i’m not going to say that it’s impossible for me to be missing something, i’m not an instagram expert by any means

do i think i am wrong? no. too many things just don’t add up

i’m more than willing to eat my own words if everything i’ve just laid out can be proven wrong, but i genuinely cannot replicate what is displayed in that screenshot, which leads me to believe it is fake

it also lends precedent that she has been lying repeatedly about supposed interactions that i also believe have never taken place. but that’s for a whole different post of its own

if, again, anything could be brought to light to prove anything i just said to be incorrect, i would gladly recant. but i don’t see that happening. she’s locked down every account she has and the likelihood of Ted seeing any of the fuss being made about all this goes down every day, since he is so rarely online and interacts with so few replies and almost no @ s from people he doesn’t follow

[maria-eve-falcon]

The past is a happy place

Caution : this is a theory based on some psychics (I’ve linked the sources) and my gut feeling from the song tis the damn season and the fact that she wrote it when she was drunk (aaron said something like this) and the sheer rawness of the song. (and maybe this is also projecting) I have been thinking about this a lot lately and I just wanted to mention this cause 2 people , 3 times have almost mentioned this. Take everything with a grain of salt please as I myself don’t believe in everything psychics say cause they all talk about possibilities. this is a theory and I mean no harm or shade to anyone. And if you are planning on reading, this will be LONG

https://youtu.be/rHfQb5N4U7I?t=335 ( secret crush) (click and you’ll know what I’m talking about)

https://youtu.be/nktwP_c085c?t=272 (an ex she keeps checking on)) (click and you’ll know what I’m talking about)

So, I always thought celebs tend to reminsce the time before they got famous as a good time because fame takes their ‘normal’ away. So, they tend to idealize their past. Everything I say next will be based on this mostly so buck up!(if you plan on reading, obviously)

Maybe during re recordings she remebered these feelings again maybe (ik , I heard it but it’s just a thought ) about that person in her home town. 

Maybe she kept thinking about the ‘what ifs’ . that ‘normal’ that she rejected. That road not taken. That innocent times of being in love when you don’t worry about anything. I feel she still idealizes that as ‘perfect love’ or ‘looks real good now’ or ‘the warmest bed’ 

So, when she was in an actual, her reality’s lifestyle adult relationship and they had problems (lmao lbr nothing is perfect . not fighting or having no arguments ever is as abnormal as picking fights without reasons) she kept thinking if she was in her hometown maybe.. Just maybe things.. Would be.. Simple. And innocent. That’s why we never forget these young love moments. Those are the simpler times.

So while I think she was ready to settle, she had her doubts. And joe knew about them. I feel, he at least got a hint of that . 

Besides she seems like bit of a commitmentphobe to me.(imo, and idt it’s her fault for being a bit) Because lbr, after paper rings, it’s hard to think joe wouldn’t think about proposing (he doesn’t strike me at all as commitmentphobe but he maybe a bit too specially where his career is rn kinda normal) and if he didn’t propose after that! They must have talked about it or the relationship wouldn’t go on for almost 4 more years after lover. (I am aware of her wanting kids and wanting to get married since forever but something always seemed off to me ) 

So whenever there were fights or something needing to be sorted out she went back to those ‘we were happy’ idealizations. 

Now about this ‘ex she checks on’ , ‘ secret crush she has’ mentioned by antphrodite (sp?) in the first two vids and ‘ a person from work she has a crush on’ from that blog I linked could be anyone, but tis the damn season kinda gave me vibes like it could be a normal person who will become the person she needs and wants to be with. (i’m not ruling out joe either) . that or not, it’s defs not matty (idk how the blogger I linked got the idea that matty is gonna be a good person all on a sudden, he doesn’t even seem to understand what he did was wrong and people can be hurt by people’s words. I mean someone from work doesn’t essentially have to matty. Look at their compatibility! Harry is more compatible with her! And harry is her least compatible ex if not conner ) 

Please be reasonable. And idk or think the guy she has a crush on is compatible either tho.judging by my theory , he is a normie. And that will never work for her.  Period. She’ll always endure a lil bit of fame (also who knows if the other person can take her everything.yk) now if this guy can make her literally hide with him , maybe . or she wants to stop all of it just sit somewhere and make occasional music. Or maybe they could work! Who knows?! 

But I feel he is just not compatible with her . but she keeps thinking back and forth bout him cause she just can’t let go of the ‘road not taken’ and her ‘what ifs’

Also her way of moving on is weird. She gets into rlts real quickly after one (never leave well enough alone) ,lbr. Which can lead to having a lot of unresolved issues with her exes and , the biggest one, herself. That may be a barricade to let someone actually completely be just a happy memory i.e. letting someone go. Cause lbr, if you have unresolved issues about a rlt , these thoughts may come back and what ifs too! She is not a very ‘owning up’ person , so there is that. She needs to sort things big time actually.