#“i don’t know what any of those things mean” okay. perfect time to research!

[goldenflowerceo]

begging y’all to get more obscure with your LGBTQ warrior cat headcanons. give me gendervoid cats and cupioromantics and ceterosexuals and expecgenders and xeora cats and cassexuals. some of you all are not willing to get crazy enough

[tswhiisftteedr]

Heyyyy, could you do a oneshot f!reader x Zestial nsfw pretty please ? 🙏

Tea Salon ☆ One Shot

Zestial x Salon Owner Sinner!Fem!Reader:

A young woman with big dreams ready to be achieve was what you were, after making a deal with Overlord Rosie you soon found out that your Salon wasn't the only thing that would bloom in your afterlife...

Warning: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, Husband and wife, Praise kink, Creampie, Oral(Female receiving), Old English, NOT PROOFREAD.

Words: 5907

Note: okay if you know anything about business, I am so sorry cuz I don’t, I just did some quick research so if it just looks like a bunch of gibberish (Rosie and reader’s meeting), I am sorry! Also a lot of Rosie in the beginning, like zestial is mentioned but doesn’t show up until the shop is open for a little while.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

In your living, you've always appreciated the simplicity of nature-oriented lifestyle reminiscent of earlier eras. It's not that you have anything against new technologies; you own a smartphone and laptop, after all. What irks you is the over-consumerism perpetuated by planned obsolescence.

Your expectation when purchasing something is that it should function and endure, offering value for the time and money invested. The capitalist mindset, with its overproduction and resulting overconsumption, is something you strongly dislike.

Capitalism inherently creates a class conflict between capital and labor. While capitalists aim for high profits, workers may endure exploitation, receiving wages consistently lower than the true value of their labor.

When you had finally passed away due to a malfunctioning smart car and had discovered that even in the afterlife, people still had to work tirelessly to meet end means, you couldn't deny that you felt disappointed.

With a background in restoration, you secured a position in a somewhat upscale restaurant – well, upscale for Hell's pride ring standards. Although you initially started as a garbage boy, you quickly ascended the ranks to become a server.

Devoting longer hours than your colleagues, by choice, you harbored a goal beyond mere survival in the hellscape. You held an ambition, a genuine dream – to establish a tea salon and sustain yourself through it.

Envisioning your own establishment, you aimed to offer freshly baked treats and brewed tea for guests to enjoy while engaging in lively conversations and gossip.

You were well aware of whose assistance was crucial for your project. Overlord Rosie served as your golden ticket to a thriving salon. You needed her help to secure a building in the border zone shared by her and Overlord Zestial, as both of their people were of interest when envisioning the kind of establishment you hope to open.

After three months of relentless work and an additional month of patiently waiting for an appointment on her end, you finally managed to secure a meeting with the elegant cannibal;

"So, what do you have for me today, darling?" she inquires.

"Well, Madam Rosie—" you begin, but you're promptly interrupted by the demon before you.

"Oh, dear, no need for all those 'madam' formalities for a sweet thing like you. Just call me Rosie. But if you insist on honorifics, then ‘Miss Rosie’ will do!" The leader of Hell's cannibal district and owner of the Rosie emporium cheerfully encourages you to address her casually. Despite the power difference, her amiable attitude eases any tension surrounding your sales pitch.

"Oh, very well then. Ahem, Miss Rosie, I'd like to seek your assistance for a passion project of mine," you pause, collecting your thoughts.

"I'm interested in opening a tea salon. It's been four months since I arrived in hell, and I've been searching extensively for the perfect building. Coincidentally, it's situated on your side of the shared border zone with Overlord Zestial. I understand it's not owned by you as part of the border zone, but being on the edge of your colony grants you some jurisdiction."

"Is that so," she replies, sipping her tea. "I appreciate the idea of a tea salon near my territory. Please elaborate more about the idea itself."

"Of course! I personally dislike the over-consumerism that existed on Earth and persists in hell. My goal is to establish one or two shops at most—something familial and local instead of a big chain. I aim to offer freshly baked and brewed drinks for my customers, who would come from all over the Pentagram. I do acknowledge that most of my clientele would be from your people, Overlord Zestial's, and those from the Radio Demon's territory. A simple analysis suggests that sinners from those areas may be more in tune with the concept, as they hail from eras when such establishments were more common," you explain.

"Well, that's all delightful, darling, but, as you rightly point out, the concept isn't foreign in these circles. Your salon is certainly not the first in these parts. No offense to your aspirations, but I'm struggling to see what sets you apart, something that would entice me to invest."

"As for standing out, I may or may not have direct access to products from the living world," you reveal, prompting Rosie to set down her cup.

"Well, isn't that interesting?" she remarks, now more intrigued.

"Yes, indeed it is. I can assure you that not only would my products be fresh, but they would exclusively feature ingredients from the living world – a culinary experience many down here yearn for. Additionally, I can promise you the highest quality of tea, such as Ceylon," you confidently declare.

"And how would someone like you, who sought an Overlord's assistance, have access to such materials? I'm not necessarily doubting you, but connecting the dots is a bit challenging," she says joyfully.

"Oh, I apologize, but I cannot disclose the identities of my procurers. I've signed an NDA as obtaining items from the world upstairs isn't their primary business. Additionally this avoids attracting requests from other companies, I'm afraid they'll have to remain nameless," you explain.

"Well, isn't that convenient for you, fufufu~ I suppose you'll have to prove your word in other ways," she remarks.

"Indeed, perhaps I have an idea on how to do so that you'd like to hear," you suggest.

"I'm all ears," she replies.

"I've noticed there's a kitchen in this building, so I was contemplating rescheduling another meeting soon after this one. During that meeting, I plan not only to bring in earthly ingredients but also to bake something for you. This would showcase my kitchen skills while simultaneously proving my capability to provide the desired products," you express.

"Well, that does seem feasible. I'll pencil you in for next Monday," she replies, jotting something down on her notepad that had been on the coffee table since the start of the meeting. "Now, shall we discuss payment?" she asks.

"Yes, please. As mentioned earlier, I'll handle the supply for my business. What I need from you is assistance in acquiring the building, help with renovations since it's a bit run-down, and perhaps some promotion to your people concerning work, as I'll still require staff when I eventually open. I've checked the listing for the building itself, and I have more than enough for the purchase. However, when renovations and promoting are considered, my budget becomes a bit tight. I was thinking of a BNPL for that part," you explain.

"Alright then, that doesn't seem too bad. How about this: I get 10% of the overall monthly revenue from your establishment. I still need to make some money, after all, fufufu~ Additionally, we can consider a 1-year BNPL plan to repay the renovation loan. And one more thing: to prove your establishment's worth, aim for a minimum 20% net profit by the end of the year since opening day. How does that sound to you?" she inquires.

"10 percent isn't too stiff, but a 20% net profit may be a little challenging in only a year of business. However, I believe in my dream!" you cheerfully exclaim.

"I'm glad you agree, though I still need some collateral for your loan. But let's discuss that after I get to see your skills in action," she tells you a bit more seriously.

"Makes sense," you reply.

"I think that's all for today unless you still have something to talk about," she asks.

"No, that's all from my side," you tell her.

"Wonderful, darling! I hope to see you Monday at 12:35 a.m.," she says as she stands up and points to the door.

"Yes, so do I," you respond as you exit the room.

Leaving her building, you were more than pleased that the meeting had gone well. Once home, as you collapsed on your couch, releasing all your stress, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance encounter with that imp during your first month in hell;

On that day, you had ventured to imp city for errands, finding Carmine products a bit too pricey for your liking. Seeking an alternative for self-defense, you visited a gun shop there.

Exiting the store, you witnessed a heartbreaking scene—an imp being beaten up by a group of sinners, degrading names thrown at him. While you refrained from intervening, as it wasn't your place, the revelation that they were targeting the imp simply because he was an imp, compelled you to approach and ensure he wasn't fatally harmed.

Before you could rouse his battered form with a shake, he uttered, "The hell you want."

"Oh, I just wanted to make sure you were okay," you reassure him.

"Bullshit," he retorts loudly. "Listen, fucking pickpocket, those assholes already took everything I had on me, besides my clothes. And I sure as hell won't be stroll down these motherfucking streets in my underwear. So, if you wanted anything, too bad, now you have until the count of ten before I blow a hole in your skull," he rudely warns.

"First of all, I'm not going to rob you. Second, how are you going to shoot me if you just said you had nothing on you? And thirdly, I was serious about checking on you. It's unfair that they beat you up just for being an imp. It's messed up, honestly. Since sinners don't have specific races like back on Earth, they just go after other beings to exercise their racist ideology," you say.

"Humans sure do love their racism," he remarks, still untrusting but more open to conversation.

"Sinners are down here for a reason, but hellspawns are different. They're currently living their lives, just like humans did back on Earth. And yet, the damned are considered superior? That's just messed up," you express sincerely. In your view, hell's hierarchy wasn't fair. ‘If this was the sinners' punishment, why categorize them as better than imps—creatures born here, not getting punished for misconduct.’

With that sentiment resonating in your words, the imp seemed more at ease as he responded to your next words. "Anyways, you need medical attention. Let's get to a hospital."

"Do you have the money for medical bills, or even the admission fee? 'Cause I sure don't," he replies, a grin on his face, strangely charming despite his black eye and cut lips.

"Yeah, sorry, pal. I can't afford the rates for treating you; I'm saving for something big," you convey with sadness in your voice.

He chuckles at your honesty. "Thought so," he replies, allowing his body to rest against the brick wall of the alley even more, as if surrendering.

"My place is far from here. Do you have any first aid supplies at yours?" you inquire, a slight panic setting in, concerned that if he fell asleep, he might not make it, even though he wasn't bleeding excessively. Yet, he didn't appear likely to stay conscious much longer.

"Yeah, but it's too far from here," he begins, heightening your anxiety. "Though my office isn't. There's some there too," he adds, his eyes glossy, appearing on the verge of passing out at any moment.

"Alright then, just give me the address, and I'll take you there," he somewhat reluctantly grumbled out the location before passing out.

Entering the address into your phone's search engine and hoisting the imp onto your back, you walked to the location.

Quite aware that cab drivers might attempt to take extort you, especially considering you were a human carrying an injured imp, you opted for the slower but more cost-effective walking route, reaching the destination in about 25 minutes.

Climbing the stairs to the seventh floor drained your energy, but your adrenaline surged upon encountering a hellhound and two imps inside the office.

The hellhound growled and barked aggressively, while the female imp simultaneously yelled and prepared for a fight. The only one not seeing red was the male imp, who was trying to make sense of the situation.

"What the hell happened to Blitzø!??" the hellhound demanded.

"Yeah, what the hell did you do to him!?!??" the female imp added, brandishing a knife.

"Millie, calm down. If they brought him here, they're most likely not the ones who hurt him," the male imp reasoned with the female.

"Yeah, it wasn't me. He got beaten up by a group of supremacist sinners," you explained as you gently placed him on the couch in the room. "He told me he had a first aid kit here, so I brought him here as neither he nor I could afford the hospital bills."

"And how can we be sure you aren't part of the jerks who hurt him, huh?" the female imp asked, her nerves still on edge, clearly showing concern for the imp. ‘Well, no, Millie showed concern a lot about Blitz.’

"You can just ask him when he wakes up, but right now, he needs help. So, can any of you bring the kit, and we'll get this over with."

With reluctance, the hellhound, whom you soon learned was named Luna, retrieved the kit and left the healing to the male imp, Moxxie. They preferred you not to touch him any further.

After briefly stepping out to grab some missing antiseptic, you observed as they took care of him. You had convinced your way into staying until he awoke; the thought that his injuries might be worse than you initially thought haunted you, and you couldn't bear the idea that he might have died if you hadn't brought him here fast enough.

After Blitzø had regained consciousness, he thanked you and offered a 50% discount on your first kill. Curious about the statement, you informed him that you weren't aware of what his company specialized in. He somewhat joyfully played their commercial for you.

Finding it all very intriguing, you inquired about the possibility of them visiting the living world for a different purpose, which he confirmed but clarified it wasn't their company's business.

Tugging a bit at their heartstrings, particularly after saving Blitzø, you divulged your ambitions. To stand out and make your dream a reality, you needed something unique, and they held the key to it. Your request was for them to procure ingredients from the human world.

Blitzø exhibited reluctance, but Millie underwent a 180-degree shift, genuinely eager to assist you, with her husband supporting her. After some persuasion, you struck a deal with I.M.P. In exchange for 5/7 of the usual kill price and keeping things on the down low, they agreed to provide you with a weekly shipment of the groceries.

Returning to the present, it was now Monday, and you found yourself 10 minutes ahead of schedule, standing in front of Rosie's emporium with a large cooler containing your ingredients.

An employee inside noticed you through the sizable glass entry doors and came out to guide you to the kitchen. They assured you that they would inform Rosie of your arrival and gave you the green light to start setting up.

True to your word, you efficiently prepared the kitchen, and right on schedule, Rosie arrived to find a clean and ready-to-use workspace, along with the promised fresh and earthy ingredients;

"Looks like you're a woman of your word, aren't you, dear?" Rosie remarked as she grabbed some dairy products and checked the expiration dates on them.

"Of course, and I wouldn't even dream of lying to you in the first place," you assured her.

"Oh, how trustworthy you are, fufufu~" she teased.

"Of course, now should I begin?" you asked, and she replied affirmatively.

With that, the baking commenced. Your choice of treat for today was a Charlotte au fraise. In about 35 minutes, you finished the preparation.

The dessert needed to chill for 8 hours in the fridge, but anticipating such a wait, you had invested in a 'chill crystal' for today and the future. This crystal is essential for cooks and bakers alike in hell as it significantly reduces the time a dish needs to be refrigerated.

Using it, your 8 hours turned into 25 minutes. During that time, you cleaned your equipment and the kitchen and, of course, brewed some tea for Rosie.

Upon reaching the 25-minute mark, you brought out the cake, cut a slice for Rosie, and served her a cup of tea. She relished every last bit of it;

"This was all wonderful, y/n," she expressed. "I am sure of it now, I will definitely invest in your dream!"

"Oh, thank you, Miss Rosie! You don't know how much this means to me!" you exclaimed joyfully.

"I'm glad I can help. But now that we've agreed I'll lend my assistance to you on your adventure, I still need you to agree on the collateral for the BNPL I want."

"Oh, of course. What is it?" you asked.

"Well, it's elementary, dear. What I want is... your soul!" she told you.

"Oh, well, that's only until I pay you back, right?" You asked worriedly.

"Yes, of course. If everything goes well and you pay me back before the deadline, you'll get your soul back. But if you exceed the time limit, your soul will indefinitely belong to me. I hope you understand that," she explained.

With a gulp, you spoke up, "I understand, Miss. Rosie."

"Wonderful, then... 'It's a deal,'" she declared, and with those words, a bright pink contract materialized, altering the entire room's shade. Nervously, you picked up a pen from the table and signed your soul away.

As you pulled away from the contract, a pink chain momentarily appeared around your neck, then vanished in a flash along with the contract.

The demonstration went well, and you got what you wanted. While having your soul signed away was nerve-racking, you believed that if you made your vision work in time, it would return to you.

You begin to double your efforts, working your ass off harder than before. On your days off from the restaurant, you checked on the renovations of your building, and about a month later, everything was completed. After a long time of sucking up to the influential guests of the restaurant, you earned enough money to quit and open your shop.

With Rosie's promotion to her people, you efficiently built a staff, even recruiting some from other districts. On the 7th of August, you finally opened the doors to your shop, and it turned out to be a tremendous success.

The turnout exceeded expectations, but you had trained your staff to handle it. Business was booming, meeting Rosie's conditions in about 5 months instead of a year.

Just as you had envisioned, people from all over the pentagram flocked to enjoy the services your establishment provided. Surprisingly, sinners from Zestial'd district emerged as your number 1 clientele, surpassing even Rosie's people.

With your salon becoming the hot topic of his district, it caught the interest of the governing overlord. Since his people were captivated by your establishment, he decided to pay a visit himself. And so he did.

Upon the first approach to the building, he was delighted by the overall aesthetic.

While he wasn't from the era when salons first became popular, being about two centuries older, the entire ambiance brought a sense of nostalgia, even though he wasn't alive when they gained popularity.

Another aspect that pleased him was the evident respect guests and staff showed to the establishment during a service. People were polite, and the quality of the food served was impeccable.

He was currently enjoying a cup of tea with none other than Rosie, discussing the success of the establishment;

"You've madeth a valorous investment, mine lief friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've hath found quite the gem,” Zestial complimented Rosie as he sipped his tea.

Setting her cup down, Rosie responded, "Oh, quite the contrary, Zestial. My dear little owner was the one who reached out. Sparkles in her eyes and a big dream in her heart. With hard work, she achieved those ambitions, beating my expectations and regaining her soul in less than half the time I expected."

"is yond so? Quite the guts and perseverance the lady hath,“ he replied, taking another sip of his tea.

"Yes, though I honestly didn't expect your people to enjoy this place so much. Really messed up my calculations," she said, playfully feigning frustration.

"well, sinners art inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus," he paused to take a bite of a fruit tart on his plate, "with desserts like this, i don't expect anyone to intermit long ere coming to tryeth those folk for themselves. Speaking of which, i would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous worketh, “ he said once he had swallowed his bite.

Rosie replied, "Well, that's the fun thing – they're both the same person. She works diligently as both showrunner and employee! But yes, I can get her if you truly wish to speak to her."

"yond would beest appreciated,“ he told her.

Meanwhile, you were on the phone with a decor company, trying to arrange something for Valentine's Day in a month – or more like Valentine's week, with new decor from the 7th to the 14th.

Once you hung up, Rosie entered the office and informed you of the situation. Without questions, you followed her into the main room of the salon, and let's just say you were nervous;

Gazing at your form, Zestial spoke out, "i wilt sayeth, miss y/n, i greatly enjoy thy establishment, and so doth mine people.”

"Oh— thank you so much, Zestial, sir, I- I mean, Mr. Zestial. Sorry, I meant Overlord Zestial! So sorry!" you stammer.

"quite the nervous one, isn’t the lady?" he did add with a bawbling chuckle. he said to Rosie, who only nodded in agreement. "well, nay needeth for worries. 'zestial' is quite fine, child." he added with a small chuckle.

"Oh, alright then. Thank you for your praise, Zestial," you said with a soft smile, which he returned. ‘Satan, was he handsome.’

"Hey, how come you call him by his name right away, and I'm still 'Miss Rosie'?" Rosie teased.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss Rosie. I've just gotten used to it," you replied, and they both laughed at your flustered state.

This soon became a common occurrence for you, and quickly after that, Zestial came more and more often to the point that your salon became Zestial's meeting spot when discussing business. Consequently, he had his own VIP room for such occurrences.

Simultaneously, you grew closer with the Overlord, becoming more comfortable around him. About a month later, you found yourself crushing on the man, giving him a fair amount of treats on the house to show affection.

And don't think said affection went unnoticed by him. Being an old soul like him brought wisdom, especially in the romance department.

Actually, Zestial himself found himself enamored with you, leading to him declaring his desire to court you;

You were tidying up the VIP room after one of Zestial's meetings, swiping down the table. As you prepared to leave the room, the Overlord spoke up.

"y/n, darling, may i hath't a word with thee?” he asked.

"Yes, of course, Zestial. What do you need?" you replied, your voice slightly quivering, because, 'fuck, did you love the fact he started calling you romantic pet names.'

"well, mine lovely business owner, i hath't to admit something to thee, so prithee did put the rag down and sitteth, " he requested. You obliged. "It seems that I have found mys"'t seemeth yond i hath't did find myself having fallen for thee,“ he began, making your breath hitch.

"i eke did notice yond thee seemeth to feeleth the same, or am i wrong?" he inquired, causing you to shake your head and answer with a weak, flustered 'no.' "did doth bethink so," he said with a chuckle. "then, as we both feeleth for one another, i'd like to court thee, unless thee hath't something 'gainst me doing so.”

"Yes— I mean no, well, um, shit," you stammered. Taking a breath, you spoke out again. "What I meant to say was, yes, I would love to be courted by you, more than anything, actually," you admitted.

Standing up, walking behind you, and wrapping his arm around your figure, he leaned down to your ear. "well, isn't yond perfect. I can't wait to hath't thee all to myself still,“ he whispered, somewhat sensually, leaving you in shock yet longing for more when he pulled away.

And with that, the courtship began. You found yourself taken out for nights on the town to nice restaurants, sweet notes and love poems left in your office for you to see, and evenings spent at his castle in the fireplace room, listening as he serenaded you, oh so lovingly.

You honestly couldn't wait for you and him to become official. You might have thought that being spoken for after such a short time was idiotic in the past, but Zestial was just so perfect and all you needed in your afterlife. It was obvious that you would marry as soon as he asked you.

About 5 months after your initial meeting, you found yourself dining with your suitor at quite the fancy restaurant, fancier than the one you used to work at actually.

"how art thee liking thy food, mine sweet y/n?” Zestial inquired.

"Yes, it's wonderful. What about yours, Zestial?" you asked back.

"everything is eke wonderful on mine end, " he replied, then added on, "Mine darling, would thee mind stopping thy meal for an instant? I'd like to break with an important matter with thee.”

"Oh, why, of course," you replied, putting down your utensils. You were now accustomed to Zestial and his ways, but his next move surprised you.

Zestial had stood up and got on his knees. "mine love, despite not having known thee for yond long did compare to mine long existence, i cannot see myself spending mine life beyond the grave without thee. Thou art high-sighted, talented, ingenious, and quite quaint, to a sir like me, and i would did bet many others, ye art quite literally breathtaking. Yond is accounting for thee as a whole, not just thy aesthetic attributes. So, y/n l/n, would thee doth me the honor of being thy husband for eternity?” He said as he pulled out a ring box, opening it to reveal a beautiful green diamond ring.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you gasped in surprise, your eyes widened at the stunning ring before you. The green diamond sparkled, capturing the essence of your feelings.

"Oh, Zestial..." You trailed off, a wave of happiness and love washing over you. Tears of joy glistened in your eyes as you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, a thousand times yes!" you exclaimed, your heart pounding with excitement. Zestial's face lit up with a radiant smile as he gently slipped the ring onto your finger.

As the dazzling gem adorned your hand, sealing the promise of eternity, Zestial rose from his kneeling position. You both shared a tender embrace, sealing the moment with a passionate kiss. The restaurant's ambiance faded away as you were immersed in the warmth of Zestial's affection.

The patrons and staff discreetly applauded, offering their congratulations to the newly engaged couple. Zestial held you close, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions.

"to our dateless love,“ he whispered, and you clinked your glasses together in a toast. The night continued, now infused with the magic of your commitment to each other.

From that moment forward, you and Zestial embarked on a beautiful journey, navigating the twists and turns of the afterlife hand in hand, bound by an eternal love that transcended time and existence.

And so, your wedding unfolded in a splendid ceremony. Radiant in your role, you felt like a true queen that day, with Rosie officiating and injecting humor into the proceedings, eliciting laughter from you, Zestial, and your guests.

The day was a jubilant celebration, offering you the chance to become better acquainted with Zestial's fellow overlords, including Carmilla Carmine: Holy Arms Dealer and Alastor: The Radio Demon. Despite their contrasting personalities, they played nice for the sake of the occasion.

However, that was a few hours ago. Now, with the reception concluded, all the guests had departed, leaving you and Zestial in the intimate confines of his castle, specifically, his bedroom.

Following tradition, this was the night of your nuptials, the night where you and Zestial would come together as one for the first time;

Seated at the edge of the king-size bed in your now shared room, you adorned yourself in an exquisite, intricately embroidered transparent nightgown, awaiting Zestial.

The faint click of the door drew your attention, and your now-husband entered, pushing the door open with a subtle yet confident gesture.

"Well, mine dearest bride, “ Zestial said, his voice filled with an underlying lustfulness that sent shivers down your spine. "'t seemeth we finally hath't some time high-lone.” He stepped closer to you, his presence filling up the entire room.

You could feel his eyes roaming over your exposed body, drinking in every inch of you like a starving demon discovering a feast fit for a king. While you tried hard not to squirm or show any signs of discomfort, your heart raced faster than it ever had before as he spoke words of praise.

"T-thank you, Zestial," you managed to croak out, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach.

His voice dripping with false surprise. "thee behold absolutely stunning in yond gown, y/n.”

He stepped closer, his hands reaching out to caress your exposed thighs, his touch sending electric shocks coursing through your entire body. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, fighting the urge to whimper aloud as he continued to tease you. ‘Were you always this needy?’

"art thee eft for me to claim what is rightfully mine?” he asked, his eyes flashing with hunger.

You nodded vigorously, as he slowly undressed himself, revealing his tall, imposing frame covered in black fabric that clung tightly to his lithe figure. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants.

As he stood before you, nude except for his dark briefs, you couldn't help but marvel at his imposing presence. He towered over you like a giant spider, his erect member straining against the thin fabric of his boxers.

Trembling slightly, you open your legs, inviting him to climb onto the bed and join you. Without hesitation, Zestial crawled onto the mattress, positioning himself between your spread legs. He leaned forward, his mouth hovering inches away from your pussy, his breath hot against your sensitive folds.

"Tell me, mine own lief jointress," he purred, his voice low and husky. "Would thee liketh me to gust thee first?”

A shiver ran down your spine as you replied, your voice cracking slightly. "Yes... please..."

Zestial's eyes gleamed with anticipation as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against your sensitive flesh. You let out a soft moan as he began to tease you, tracing light kisses along your thighs and inner thighs before finally reaching your wet, quivering entrance.

He sucked on your sensitive folds, causing your hips to buck and writhe involuntarily.

As he continued his lewd assault on your most intimate areas, his tongue darted out to lick and circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You arched your back, crying out his name, your nails digging into the sheets as he relentlessly pleasured you.

"Oh, Satan... Zestial!" You panted, your breath coming in short gasps. "I'm going to—I'm almost there!"

"Good girl," Zestial growled, his voice thick with desire. He increased the pace of his assault, sucking harder on your clit and thrusting his tongue deeper into your wetness.

Your moans turned into incoherent moans of pure ecstasy as he brought you closer to the edge of orgasm.

Just as you felt you were about to cum, he suddenly pulled away, leaving you craving more. "Not yet, mine own dram naughty bride," he purred. "We haven't begun yet. “

He stood up straight again, his hardened member now fully exposed, throbbing with anticipation. "do thee wanteth me to filleth thee up anon?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.

You panted heavily, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Yes, please, Zestial," you pleaded, your voice hoarse from your intense arousal. "I need you inside me."

“Are thee sure mine own loveth, thy so bawbling i’m afraid i might breaketh thee. ” He teased, which only made whine pleadingly.

Without further ado, Zestial positioned himself between your spread legs once more. Slowly, he pushed himself into your tight, wet entrance, filling you up to the brim.

A mixture of pain and pleasure radiated throughout your body as he began to thrust rhythmically, his massive member stretching and stretching you further than you ever thought possible.

Each thrust was accompanied by a low groan from both of you, the sounds of your bodies slapping together filling the quiet room.

Your nails clawed at the sheets, leaving long, deep scratches in the fabric as he pounded into you relentlessly. Your orgasm built up faster than before, approaching its peak once more.

"Cum f'r me, mine own lief," Zestial growled, his eyes blazing with lust. "Let wend and releaseth all yond pent-up desire. “

You cried out his name, your body convulsing violently as you climaxed again, your juices coating his member and dripping down your thighs.

Your orgasm seemed to fuel him further, and he picked up the pace, thrusting faster and harder than ever before.

"Yes! More, give me more!" You begged, your voice barely recognizable from the pleasure that consumed you.

As your body continued to shake with each powerful thrust, Zestial groaned deeply, his fingers digging into your hips for support. Suddenly, he groaned loudly, his entire body tensing up before shooting his hot seed deep inside of you, filling you completely.

Finally, he pulled out of you, his cock still twitching as he collapsed beside you on the bed. Panting heavily, he reached over and brushed a strand of sweat-drenched hair from your forehead.

"That wast. quite wond'rful," he managed to croak out between heavy breaths. "Howev'r, i doubteth a single round shall suffice to satisfyeth mine own needeth, consid'ring i've been anticipating this moment f'r months. ”

“Oh.” Was all you had the time to say before your night of passion continues.

"Thank you, Zestial," you panted, your own breath returning to normal. "That was... amazing."

You reached over and caressed his cheek, your fingers trailing down to his chin. "Could we... do it again sometime?"

He chuckled softly, his eyes softening slightly. "Of course, mine own lief jointress," he replied, chuckling at your somewhat innocent neediness, his voice still husky with satisfaction. "We has't all the timeth in this hellish w'rld togeth'r anon. "

You lay there for a while, basking in their post-coital bliss, their hearts racing in sync. Eventually, Zestial stirred, moving closer to you. "Do thee needeth aught else bef're we retireth f'r the night?” he asked, his hand trailing down your stomach to rest on your hipbone.

“No, I just want you close to me.” You answered,

“Of course.” he replied softly, placing a kiss on your forehead as you fell asleep in each other’s arms….

Old English in order of apparition;

"You've madeth a valorous investment, mine lief friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've hath found quite the gem, ” = "You've made a good investment, my friend. This salon is nothing but successful; you've found quite the gem,”

"is yond so? Quite the guts and perseverance the lady hath,“ = "Is that so? Quite the guts and perseverance she has,"

"well, sinners art inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus," = "Well, sinners are inherently unpredictable creatures by nature. Plus,"

"with desserts like this, i don't expect anyone to intermit long ere coming to tryeth those folk for themselves. Speaking of which, i would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous worketh, “ = "with desserts like this, I don't expect anyone to resist long before coming to try them for themselves. Speaking of which, I would love to compliment the owner and chef for such marvelous work,"

"yond would beest appreciated,“ = "That would be appreciated,"

"i wilt sayeth, miss y/n, i greatly enjoy thy establishment, and so doth mine people.” = "I must say, Miss Y/n, I greatly enjoy your establishment, and so do my people."

"quite the nervous one, isn’t the lady?" = "Quite the nervous one, isn’t she?"

"well, nay needeth for worries. 'zestial' is quite fine, child." = "Well, no need for worries. 'Zestial' is quite fine, child,"

"y/n, darling, may i hath't a word with thee?” he asked. = "Y/n, darling, may I have a word with you?"

"well, mine lovely business owner, i hath't to admit something to thee, so prithee did put the rag down and sitteth, " = "Well, my lovely business owner, I have to admit something to you, so please put the rag down and sit,"

"It seems that I have found mys"'t seemeth yond i hath't did find myself having fallen for thee,“ = "It seems that I have found myself having fallen for you,"

"i eke did notice yond thee seemeth to feeleth the same, or am i wrong?" = "I also noticed that you seem to feel the same, or am I wrong?"

"did doth bethink so," = "Thought so,"

"then, as we both feeleth for one another, i'd like to court thee, unless thee hath't something 'gainst me doing so.” = "Then, as we both feel for one another, I'd like to court you, unless you have something against me doing so."

"well, isn't yond perfect. I can't wait to hath't thee all to myself still,“ = "Well, isn't that perfect. I can't wait to have you all to myself forever,"

"how art thee liking thy food, mine sweet y/n?” = "How are you liking your food, my sweet Y/N?"

"everything is eke wonderful on mine end, " = "Everything is also wonderful on my end,"

"Mine darling, would thee mind stopping thy meal for an instant? I'd like to break with an important matter with thee.” = "My darling, would you mind stopping your meal for an instant? I'd like to discuss an important matter with you."

"mine love, despite not having known thee for yond long did compare to mine long existence, i cannot see myself spending mine life beyond the grave without thee. Thou art high-sighted, talented, ingenious, and quite quaint, to a sir like me, and i would did bet many others, ye art quite literally breathtaking. Yond is accounting for thee as a whole, not just thy aesthetic attributes. So, y/n l/n, would thee doth me the honor of being thy husband for eternity?” = "My love, despite not having known you for that long compared to my long existence, I cannot see myself spending my life beyond the grave without you. You're ambitious, talented, ingenious, and beautiful, to a man like me, and I would bet many others, you are quite literally breathtaking. That is accounting for you as a whole, not just your aesthetic attributes. So, Y/N L/N, would you do me the honor of being your husband for eternity?"

"to our dateless love,“ = "To our everlasting love,"

"Well, mine dearest bride, “ = "Well, my dearest bride,"

"'t seemeth we finally hath't some time high-lone.” = "It seems we finally have some time alone."

"thee behold absolutely stunning in yond gown, y/n.”= "You look absolutely stunning in that gown, y/n."

"art thee eft for me to claim what is rightfully mine?” = "Are you ready for me to claim what is rightfully mine?"

"tell me, mine own lief jointress," = "Tell me, my dear wife,"

"Would thee liketh me to gust thee first?” = "Would you like me to taste you first?"

"not yet, mine own dram naughty bride," = "Not yet, my little naughty bride,"

"We haven't begun yet. “ = "We haven't begun yet."

"do thee wanteth me to filleth thee up anon?” = "Do you want me to fill you up now?"

“are thee sure mine own loveth, thy so bawbling i’m afraid i might breaketh thee. ” = “Are you sure my love, your so small I’m afraid I might break you.”

"Cum f'r me, mine own lief," = "Cum for me, my dear,"

"Let wend and releaseth all yond pent-up desire. “= "Let go and release all that pent-up desire."

"That wast. quite wond'rful," = "That was... quite wonderful,"

"Howev'r, i doubteth a single round shall suffice to satisfyeth mine own needeth, consid'ring i've been anticipating this moment f'r months. ” = "However, I doubt a single round will suffice to satisfy my needs, considering I've been anticipating this moment for months.”

"Of course, mine own lief jointress," = “Of course, my dear wife,"

"We has't all the timeth in this hellish w'rld togeth'r anon. " = "We have all the time in this hellish world together now.”

"do thee needeth aught else bef're we retireth f'r the night?” = "Do you need anything else before we retire for the night?"

Thanks anon for requesting!

©tswhiisfttedr. dn translate, or plagiarize.

Tip Me (Ko-Fi) & And support my art account @maviscarlettie

You can now commission me!

Reblogs help!!! (Request Are On Pause)

[cripplecharacters]

I have a small cast of fan characters, for a little story that I do post on here but purposely has a very small audience. All of them have various disabilities. (One is deaf, one has a facial difference and unrelated speech issues, one has a congenital limb difference and autism, one is blind… there are others.) I only have one of those disabilities (autism), and the more I write, the more I feel like I shouldn’t write. I follow this blog, look up resources, and try very hard to avoid any harmful tropes. I make it known that I am open to issues being pointed out to me so that I can do better.

But time and time again I feel like I am doing more harm than good. Tonight I have reached the point of wondering whether I should even keep writing these disabilities at all. It’s not that I don’t consider the research worth doing, or that I don’t want to put forth the effort. It’s not that at all. It’s just that I am so overwhelmed and scared of getting things wrong. I don’t want to contribute to any harmful depictions in any way, but I feel like I will mess up no matter what. I feel like it’s arrogant of me to write characters who deal with things I don’t, and that no amount of research can give me the nuance or awareness to write things I don’t experience. I feel like nothing I could do in this situation would be good or right.

Because on the other hand, I don’t want to get rid of the characters’ disabilities, since that’s bad too!

I try very hard to write in a respectful and informed way. But at the end of the day, I don’t have those others disabilities, so maybe I just shouldn’t be writing them. Is it better to avoid writing what I don’t personally experience, and just stick to my own disability?

— MicronLizard

Hi!

Of course we have to write about experiences other than our own. Otherwise our stories would be boring--we can't only write people exactly like us all the time.

Please write disabled characters of all types. Don't be afraid to make mistakes. You won't know everything and that's okay! It's okay for your work to not be perfect representation. And there are plenty of resources out there to help you fix mistakes. Run ideas by us, get a sensitivity reader, ask around disabled communities if anybody is willing to give feedback!

Even if you've done all your research, you won't create a character that resonates with 100% of people with your character's disability. Everyone has different experiences. Some disabled characters that others love are not what I want to see represented; that doesn't mean it's bad representation!

The goal is just to write something beyond a trope. It's impossible to capture every single nuance of the messy reality of disability within a story. If you are so scared of writing "good rep" that you don't include it, we won't get any more rep. Imperfect but well-intentioned representation is far better than stereotypes or no representation at all.

Mod Rock

Hello!

From this ask, I don't see any way in which your writing would be doing harm. As you mention: you research, you try to avoid harmful tropes, look up resources, are open to feedback, put in effort. Plus on the basis of this ask existing and us answering it, you talk to other disabled people about writing disabled characters.

Just based on this, you're doing more than 90% of published writers who write disabled characters, and more than 99% of writers who only share their stories online. I know that this blog might give off a different impression based on the complexity and specificity of asks we get and advice we give, but the average writer doesn't know there's more than one sign language nor that most blind people can see a bit, most of them refuse to say the word "amputee" in favor of basically anything else. A ridiculous amount of people are under the impression that the only good story involving a disabled person is one that ends in a cure. The bar is on the floor.

Most of the harmful representation we reference in all the posts, the tropes that get repeated all the time, they are a result of not doing research and not looking a single thing up, simply not caring. Most "representation" is done from memory, literally whatever the author thinks the disability is. It's not a rare occurrence to see a disabled character and be able to tell that there wasn't even a Wikipedia article involved when creating the character, let alone actual disabled humans. Half the time the memory isn't even from a real source, it's just a different badly made character.

I can see your worries, but logically speaking, you seem to know too much to do a lot of this dumb shit. You don't have to know literally everything to show something with depth and nuance, things that most writers don't consider as an aspect of disability representation in the first place. We have a "don't just ask us 'how to write a disabled character?'" rule in our FAQ because of this - people don't expect there to be any nuance and are surprised to hear that we aren't actually a monolith. A lot of people, and I genuinely mean it, don't differentiate between disabilities. There are writers who write about their deaf characters using braille to read and their blind Japanese characters using ASL to speak. I see artists confuse mobility canes and white canes. Don't even start me on the nonsense that goes on in the realm of mentally ill characters.

If every writer did what I mentioned in the first paragraph of my reply, life would be awesome. There's a difference between a mistake in the grand scheme of things and literally not seeing disability as something worth thinking about for more than a few minutes. Like yeah, there is a chance that when reading, a reader with disability X might go "oh, the author isn't X" because there was an oversight in how the character did some activity on page 71. So what? That's bound to happen literally no matter what you write unless it's an autobiography. Toph Beifong is considered a beloved character that's still one of the best blind characters in media even though she falls into tropes and gets stuff wrong. Trying to make something absolutely perfect is counterproductive and ironically enough will result in less good representation.

You might decide to scrap your character with a facial difference because you think you shouldn't write them, but I promise you that the new indie horror game dev won't. Characters that will be the pain of my existence, made by people who couldn't give less shit, will keep being made into eternity. There's no avoiding it. There will be ninety-nine horrible characters made that might as well have had "ableism" as their character concept. If you decide to not scrap yours, we will have the 1% that was made with respect and sincerity in mind.

No one reasonably expects 100% accuracy from works of fiction, I personally expect research and respect. If you're doing that, your work will probably be at the very top of representation I've seen. Keep writing.

mod Sasza

[ipegchangbin]

— snooze with changbin.

🏷️ fluff, slight angst. gn!reader. established relationship. sleep apnea.

sleep is far from the scariest thing in the world. it’s comforting. it’s essential. it’s something normal to do on your own or to share with a partner.

but when you’re about to sleep together for the first time, it feels like it’s your biggest irrational fear.

changbin fears it too.

you love the sound of his voice. he loves the sound of yours. he loves the little noises you make, from ones out of joy to the ones out of frustration. you love the ones he makes too, from silly honks out of nowhere to the grunts he makes when he messes up his work.

to you, his voice is attractive. to him, your voice is heaven sent.

but there’s still something different when it’s a snore.

the moment you two agreed to your first sleepover, changbin grew anxious. for one, he wanted it to be perfect, but secondly, he was scared of his snores ruining your beauty sleep.

you weren’t faring any better. you researched methods to lessen the sound of snoring. you looked for mouth guards and when those didn’t work, you tried to train yourself to stop.

if only either of you knew that you were both under the same side of the same leaf.

now, you’re both nestled in each other’s arms, wearing pajamas, hugging each other closely. you can feel changbin’s heartbeat pumping, his chest rising and falling as he tries to act as normal as he can.

you attempt the same. you’re swallowing and gulping back any saliva in your mouth to stop any drool escaping your lips when you sleep. you try to blink and close your eyes, slowly but surely, yet nothing really works as worry settles in your mind.

the both of you don’t close your eyes. it’s silent. you’ve both said your good nights around ten minutes earlier. two more minutes pass yet it’s still the same.

changbin clears his throat.

“y/n, you awake?”

you nod, looking up at him, meeting his restless yet kind eyes.

“i need to tell you something before it bothers me.”

you sit up at that and changbin follows. you give him a knowing look and it reassures him slightly, but he’s still fidgeting with his fingertips.

“i have sleep apnea. i snore. if that bothers you, i understand…i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner—”

“me too,” you say, teary-eyed.

your boyfriend simply stares. he isn’t shocked, but the more he looks at you, the more it sinks in. he has nothing to fear, neither do you.

they say that in relationships, things must be shared between individuals. it isn’t just reciprocation, but a sense of togetherness should be felt. it’s somehow stupid, thinking that something as human as a snore can make one feel so isolated. to you and changbin, it’s been a big deal for some reason. your snores might wake him up. his snores might make you uncomfortable. in a state where the body must be relaxed, why would either of you do something involuntarily that could make other people uncomfortable?

but honestly, what gives?

“i have it too, it’s okay,” you add.

changbin sighs a breath of relief. “oh my god. i was so worried that you were gonna hate it.”

“why would i hate something that normal?” you exhale the same way. “if anything, i was the worried one.”

“you? worried? now i only want to hear you snore for real.” changbin jokes and you laugh.

with that, you spend a minute or two holding each other against the pillows and talking about it. how past partners used to get turned off or how your parents would tease you for it. he tells you his own stories, letting you know that he gets caught sleeping so easily from how noisy he is. it’s amusing how you get to share something like this with changbin, which is something you didn’t expect, but are happy to share.

something clicks in your head as well as changbin’s. suddenly, it makes sense that maybe your snores were signs that you’re relaxed. maybe it’s an indicator — maybe it means that you’re comfortable.

but if so, then what happens if you stop snoring in his hold? what does it mean if he’s silent in your sleep?

the overthinking gets too much until the sound of changbin’s unconscious hiccups pops in the air.

you’re not bothered, more that it simply shocks you. reassures you. the hum of his voice before it practically hics is a little funny, but it’s an adorable noise to you. he adjusts his hold on your shoulders and his mouth opens more, letting a groan escape his lips followed by a loud snore.

he holds you like a teddy bear, strong arms softened with your warmth. his body melts onto yours as he falls into deeper sleep. he looks precious like this, mouth agape and body clearly comfortable as if a bunny had just flopped over onto the grass.

suddenly, all fears dissipate as you finally find your favorite sound in the world.

and when you drift to sleep yourself, changbin smiles in his sleep as he hears your own snores answering his. it’s like a conversation, an “i love you” paired with another.

as you both wake up, you smile, wanting just five more minutes in each other’s indulgent embraces while birds chirp in the same tone as your snoozing.

[etherealphosphor]

Shelved Emotions

⟡ Contains: Dottore x Gn!Reader, Sfw, Fluff, Dottore tries to hide/get rid of his feelings at first, Dottore’s segments like the reader

⟡ Dottore’s thoughts are in blue italics

⟡ Segment names/colors: Zeta, Delta, Theta, Epsilon

Dottore was frustrated. Despite his best efforts, he could not escape the weakness of human emotion. He devoted himself to his research, blocking out all distractions. He refused to let his feelings hinder him; they were the last thing keeping him from perfect, unbiased results.

He targeted his feelings toward you in particular. Dottore was partly angry and partly ashamed that he could even fancy someone; the mere idea was childish to him. What use was it to think about you, his errand runner, when scientific research was far more important?

However, every time you looked at him with those bright eyes or smiled sweetly at him, he was rendered speechless. How was it possible to feel this way about anyone? And how in the world could that someone possibly be more important to him than his experiments?

Dottore slowly began to lose all interest in his work, as his thoughts were starting to get in the way.

This has gone too far, and now I can no longer focus properly on my research. I must find a way to rid myself of these emotions.

And so, with that, Dottore got up from his desk and went off to look for something—anything—to aid him in his search. He began to walk towards the library, a fairly large room with shelf after shelf of informational books. While Dottore did have his own smaller personal collection of research books, there would be nothing about romance in any of them.

But before he could walk through the doorway, he began to hear familiar voices. This stopped him in his tracks, and he peeked into the room, staying quiet so as not to be seen.

There, he saw you surrounded by four of his segments. It was obvious to Dottore that all of them were competing for your attention, and there was no way you hadn’t noticed as well.

"So, [Name], which one of us do you think is the best segment?" Delta said, smiling at you.

"Oh, well, I don’t know—"

You were quickly cut off by Theta, who began to make sarcastic remarks as usual. "It’s obviously me; I mean, I'm the perfect version. Who wouldn’t pick me?"

"Hm, personally, I think that [Name] likes me the most. After all, I’m closest to the original." Zeta said, tilting your chin up with one hand.

Epsilon grabbed Zeta’s hand away, scowling at him. "Maybe [Name] would prefer somebody a little less—I don’t know—cold?"

"Woah, calm down, Shorty. You don’t have to give him the death glare." Theta chuckled, patting Epsilon’s head.

"Hey! I’m not that short!"

Epsilon was the youngest of the four, which meant he was often teased for his height. He also happened to be the feistiest, making it even more entertaining for Theta to poke fun at him.

Delta had to physically restrain Epsilon so that he wouldn’t start attacking Theta. "Epsilon, please, he’s not worth getting worked up over."

Meanwhile, Zeta took the opportunity to start playing with your hair. "[Name], do you have a significant other?"

Dottore had had enough of this, and he quickly walked into the library.

"You four. What is going on here?" Dottore’s expression was dark, and he spoke in a very harsh tone.

Instantly, Epsilon stopped struggling, Delta’s grip loosened, Theta stopped laughing, and even Zeta’s ever-present smirk faded.

"Oh, uh.. boss, we can explain—" Epsilon stammered, but was cut off by Dottore.

"I want no explanations. You all must clean my office, and if it isn’t spotless by the time I get back, you will all face great consequences. Do you understand? And especially you, Zeta. We will be having a conversation later."

The four segments turned to each other, silently exchanging looks of shock.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go, now!"

Quickly, all the segments left the library, leaving Dottore alone with you.

"Are you okay, [Name]?" Dottore said, his tone much gentler than it was a minute ago.

"Yeah, I’m fine; can you please not punish them too harshly? I’m the one who greeted them first. Why did you even send them away at all? They didn’t have any work to do." You replied, looking at Dottore with eyes full of concern.

Dottore’s heart lurched with jealousy. Why couldn’t you worry about him like that? Why did it have to be his segments?

"I have my reasons. Please don’t be afraid; I won’t do anything bad to them. Mostly just scold them for bothering you, that’s all."

"They weren’t bothering me, not a bit. I actually quite enjoy their company; without them, my day off would be quite uneventful." You said, determined to clear the segments’ names.

"Ah, very well, then. I’ll go a little easier on them in that case." Dottore sighed. There was no way he could say no to those eyes of yours.

"Thank you; I’m glad." You smiled at him.

That small action was enough to make Dottore blush. "No problem. Anyway, what are you doing in the library? Looking for something to read?"

"Well, obviously," you chuckled, "but I can’t find anything good; it all seems a little boring to me."

"That would be because this is a research library. If fiction is what you are looking for, you won’t find it here."

"Oh, that’s a shame, then." You looked a little disappointed, your voice losing its usual bright tone. "I haven’t had anything to read for months."

No, no. I mustn’t say it. It isn’t necessary. I don’t have to. Aren't I trying to stop these pesky feelings from happening? Nothing is stopping me from bidding [Name] farewell right here. But.. they look so upset.

However, despite Dottore trying to stop himself, he ended up saying it anyway.

"Why don’t you come back to my personal chambers? I believe I have a shelf of various works of fiction in there. If you wish, you can have everything; I have no need for any of them."

Your eyes lit up. "Wait, really? You do? I’d love to go check it out and maybe borrow a few. Though, I would never take your books from you, even if you don’t see a need for them right now. You might want them in the future; you never know."

"I suppose you are correct. Well then, shall we?" Dottore extended his hand as a polite gesture. What he didn’t expect was for you to actually take it.

You wrapped your fingers around Dottore's, smiling at him. "Mhm, let’s go."

Dottore’s face went red, and his eyes widened a little. His hand tightened around yours, and he began to lead you towards his room. To get to it, one must go through his office first, and so Dottore opened the door and walked in.

There, the four segments were standing, awaiting Dottore’s return. When they saw your hand in his, all of them felt secretly disappointed, wishing it was them who got to hold your hand. Except for Epsilon—with him, it was no secret. He was glaring jealously at Dottore as you two walked by.

"Shorty, fix your face." Theta said, nudging him.

"Stop saying I’m short!"

"Epsilon, stop yelling, or you will be disciplined further. Do you want to clean the rest of the offices in the headquarters?" Dottore spoke coldly.

"No, I don’t. Sorry, boss."

With that, Dottore unlocked the door leading to his room and led you inside. His heart was still beating quicker than usual, but he was starting to get used to the feeling of having your hand in his. He decided to leave the door open, as the last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable.

"Well, this is my room. It’s nothing special, but it serves its purpose. Over there by the window should be the shelf I was speaking about." Dottore pointed to it and sat down on his bed.

You looked over the contents of the shelf until a series of teal books caught your eye. All of them were quite banged up and evidently pretty old.

"Woah, is this what I think it is? I can’t believe you have it." You said as you pulled the first one off the shelf.

"Hm? [Name], did you find something you like?"

"Oh my gosh, all eleven volumes? I didn’t even get that far." You smiled, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

In your hands, you held the first volume of The Fox in the Dandelion Sea. Dottore got up and walked behind you, staring down at the book.

"The Fox in the Dandelion Sea? Isn’t that a fairytale?" Dottore asked, wondering what interest you would have in a children’s book.

"Mhm, it’s my favorite. My parents used to read it to me before bed when I was a kid, but we never ended up finishing the whole series." You told him, smiling down at the book.

"Ah, I see. Well, feel free to take as many as you want; I know they aren’t particularly lengthy. You can come back at any time if you don’t want to take the entire series with you at once."

You grabbed five books off the shelf, holding them under one arm. "Thank you so much, Dottore."

"Anytime, seriously. It’s not as if I’m doing anything with them." Dottore said as he walked with you towards the door of his office.

"Aww, are you leaving already, [Name]? Not even going to say goodbye?" Zeta teased as Dottore opened the door for you.

"Ah, where are my manners? I’ll see you guys later." You said as you waved to the segments.

Then, smiling at Dottore, you lowered your voice a little. "I really appreciate you letting me borrow these books; it means a lot to me."

Suddenly, you wrapped your arms around Dottore, pulling him into an embrace.

Dottore’s face instantly went red. "I- Uh- [Name]? What are you doing?"

"Ah! I’m sorry. You’re my boss; that was weird. I apologize if I crossed a boundary." You let go, mortified, and you stared at your feet, a blush slowly creeping onto your face.

"Oh no, no. It’s okay; don’t worry. I was just a little surprised, that’s all; you didn’t make me uncomfortable." Dottore affectionately ruffled your hair, assuring you it was okay.

This made you blush even more, and you smiled at Dottore again before walking out. "Have a nice evening, Dottore. Don’t overwork yourself, okay? You have an awful habit of burning yourself out."

"You too, [Name]." Dottore smiled back, waving as you left.

Once he closed the door, Dottore’s expression instantly turned neutral again. His segments were all staring at him.

"Boss, what was that? You seriously didn’t make a move?" Theta said, sounding quite annoyed.

"What do you mean by that, Theta?"

"You seriously don’t know? How thick is your skull?"

"Rude."

"I might be rude, but at least I can take a hint."

"Do you really want extra chores? Because that is what you will get if you continue speaking to me like that."

"Hmmph. You really need to lighten up."

Dottore ignored Theta’s comment. "Theta, are you suggesting that there’s a possibility that [Name] could reciprocate my feelings?"

Delta joined the conversation. "Boss, to me, it’s very obvious that [Name] fancies you. Their face went a bright shade of red when they hugged you, and they also seem to care quite a bit about your health. Plus, I don’t think there’s any chance that the way they look at you is platonic."

Dottore’s eyes opened a little wider. "A-Are you sure? Is that really what you think?"

"There’s no doubt in my mind, boss."

Over the next few days, Dottore was constantly flustered by you simply doing your job. So much to the point where he couldn't even do his research; all he could think about was you.

Once, you brought Dottore some papers he needed to sign, and when handing them to him, your hands brushed for a moment. Even that small action gave Dottore butterflies, and he promptly looked away from you so you wouldn’t see him blushing.

That night, Dottore called Delta into his office.

"Delta, you’ve always been one of my most rational segments. Which is why I wanted to ask you if maybe you could help me with this problem." Dottore said, looking across his desk at Delta.

"I can always help out, boss. Is this concerning [Name]?"

Dottore nodded. "Yes, it’s about exactly what you think it is. I’ve come to find that I cannot get rid of my feelings, nor can I hide them. I have come to embrace them, and I accept that I am truly in love with [Name]. However, I still wish to find another way to stop these thoughts from interfering with my work."

"Well, I suppose you could confess to them? If [Name] admits to liking you as well—which they probably will—you might begin to feel less nervous as you get more comfortable with them. And if they tell you that they don’t feel the same, then at least you will have your peace of mind."

Dottore sighed. "I guess you’re right. However, I heavily doubt that I could muster up the courage to confess to them in person; I’d have no idea what to say."

"You could always send them a letter and a gift." Delta suggested.

"That’s a good idea, yeah. But what kind of thing would they like?" Dottore thought for a moment. "Oh! I know!"

Dottore quickly got up from his desk and walked into his room to grab the first five volumes of The Fox in the Dandelion Sea, which you had returned a couple days ago.

"Boss, what did you think of?" Delta asked as Dottore put the books down on his desk.

"I’m going to recreate these books from scratch. I’ll make the cover, write the words, and illustrate the pages. You can tell [Name] to take the whole week off, say that I’m working on something confidential and I need total concentration. It shouldn’t take me too long; I’ve done the process a couple times in the past. Especially because these are such small books, with only a couple pages each."

"Don’t overwork yourself, boss. I know how much [Name] worries about you. You have all the time in the world to get your gift ready." Delta said, watching Dottore gather papers and pens.

"They really worry for me that much?" Dottore looked up at Delta, his eyes widening a little.

"Oh, definitely. [Name] mentions it all the time."

"Well, that's very sweet of them." Dottore said, butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

Delta nodded. "It is. Now, boss, is there anything I can do to help you?"

"Ah, yes, there is; can you possibly find me a dandelion plant?" Dottore asked him.

"Sure, I can do that, no problem. I’ll check the stores in town." Delta replied, turning around and walking towards the door.

"Before you go, I have a question for you."

"Yes, what is it?" Delta looked back at him with his hand on the doorknob.

"Why are you helping me? I know you like [Name] as well; why do you bother? Shouldn’t you be trying to woo them like the other three?"

Delta smiled. "The other three know that they have no chance, boss. Sure, they might try to flirt with [Name], but they don’t actually expect [Name] to reciprocate. The situation is a little different with me, as I don’t try to flirt with them as much. We segments pick up on things you don’t, boss; I know that [Name] would be much happier in a relationship with you. Which is why I don’t even bother trying hard; I already know the outcome."

"What? You’re really that sure that [Name] likes me?" Dottore responded, eyes wide.

"I am indeed, boss." Delta said as he walked out.

Over the next few days, Dottore was constantly cooped up in his office, working on your gift. There was even a sign on the door warning anyone other than his segments not to come in. Dottore barely slept at all, and when he did, it was at his desk.

However, after many sleepless nights, he did eventually manage to finish your gift. There in front of him sat five beautifully made fairytale books, even prettier than the original. The illustrations inside the book were painted with watercolor and outlined in ink, giving them a lovely aesthetic. Dottore flipped through all of them once more, making sure everything was of the finest quality.

Then he began to write you a letter.

"Dear [Name],

I’m aware that you must have picked up on my strange behavior as of late, and I must apologize if it has concerned you. In truth, there is something I must come clean about. I have fallen deeply in love with you, [Name]. I cannot keep this confession to myself for any longer, or else I fear it may eat me from the inside out. If you do not reciprocate my feelings, I completely understand. I will have you immediately switched to run errands for a different harbinger, and your pay will not change. You do not even have to speak to me. If you do wish to have a conversation about this, though, I will be in my private chambers. The door is unlocked.

Sincerely, Il Dottore"

Once he had sealed the letter in an envelope, he set it down on top of the books. Then, reaching over to the pot on his desk, Dottore plucked a grey dandelion and set it down on top of the stack. Once he was done, he stood up and grabbed a length of brown string, wrapping the gift nicely so that nothing would slide off.

Just then, Delta came to check in on him, as he did every once in a while. "Boss, how is everything going?"

"Oh, hello, Delta. Things have been just fine. All I need to do now is put my gift in [Name]’s room so that they’ll find it later. Since it’s late in the morning, shouldn’t [Name] be in the library? Could you possibly distract them for me, just to make sure nothing goes wrong?"

"Of course, boss. That’ll be no problem." Delta responded, walking out of the office with Dottore trailing behind him.

Once they reached the library, Delta went off to chat with you, and Dottore continued walking. He stopped in front of the door to your room and tried the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. Quickly walking inside, Dottore set the stack of books down on your desk and got out. The last thing he wanted was to invade your space more than he had to.

I won’t get my hopes up, even if Delta and the others are telling me that [Name] has romantic feelings for me. I don’t want to be disappointed. Even if they don’t like me, I hope they treasure my gift.

Dottore was deep in thought as he walked past the library, but snapped out of it when he heard Delta’s voice.

"Boss, did your business go according to plan?"

Dottore stopped walking and looked at him, saying, "Delta, come now; we have things to attend to."

Delta got up from the chair he was sitting in. "Ah, yes, boss. I’ll see you later, [Name]."

Delta waved goodbye to you and began to head back to the office with Dottore. Dottore seemed lost in thought, staring at his feet.

"Are you nervous, boss?"

"Yes, Delta, I am very nervous. How could I not be? I could lose [Name] if things don’t go well." Dottore said, his voice shaking with worry.

"It’ll be okay; I wouldn’t assure you of something I wasn’t completely sure about. [Name] really does like you, boss." Delta comforted Dottore, sensing that he was on the edge of a panic attack.

"I really hope you’re right, Delta." Dottore replied as they reached his office.

"Boss, I have a question: what happens next? You haven’t told me your whole plan."

"In the letter, I told them that if they want to chat with me, I will be waiting here." Dottore explained as he opened the door to his room.

Meanwhile, you had gotten up from where you had been reading and made your way back to your room. Opening the door, you walked inside and found a small stack of books on your desk with a dandelion on top.

What is this?

You untied the string binding the books together and picked up the envelope addressed to you underneath the flower. Tearing it open, you took out the letter and began to read it.

As you scanned the text, your eyes widened. Not even bothering to look at the gift Dottore had prepared for you, you started to run to his office. His amazing craftsmanship could be admired later, but you needed to tell him how you felt immediately.

Catching your breath at the door, you opened it and walked inside. Delta was sitting at Dottore’s desk, but you didn’t even notice him.

You knocked on the door that led into Dottore’s room, saying, "Hey, Dottore? You’re in there, right?"

"I am; come in."

When you opened the door, you found Dottore sitting on the end of his bed, his back turned to you, and his head in his hands. Silently, you sat down next to him.

"Dottore, look at me, please." You spoke in a soft tone.

Dottore looked up, his beautiful red eyes filled with worry. It was obvious that he was assuming the worst. You smiled at him, wrapped your arms around his neck, and kissed him.

At first, Dottore was caught off guard, but soon he pulled you into his embrace, careful not to break the kiss. He poured all his love and affection into that kiss, eager to show you just how much you meant to him.

Although neither of you wanted to, eventually you had to pull away to catch your breath.

Putting your hand on Dottore’s cheek, you stared into his eyes. "I love you, Dottore. I always have. Everything about you drives me crazy. Your eyes, your hair, your voice—everything. To the point where I can’t even think straight."

"I love you too, [Name]. Words cannot describe how lucky I am to have you in my life."

Dottore leaned back in, passionately kissing you once more as he held you close to him.

[blainesebastian]

bookends

words: 4,008 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (request from @livwholikestv) “reader as librarian/works at a bookshop and Austin comes in every day to do research about Elvis“  warnings: none notes: requests are currently open :) thanks for reading!  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted, @rairaielv,

You know that people probably find it silly you’ve decided that you want to work in a bookshop when the internet exists and Amazon and literally a hundred different reasons not to go into a place surrounded by shelves and the smell of paper. Those same people might say that libraries and bookstores are a dying breed—that there’s no reason to hold a book between your hands when you can download an audio version, or listen to a podcast, or buy a Kindle.

But in your opinion? Those people are idiots.

Not to be dramatic (kinda) but you were raised in book shops, cafes and libraries. Your mother was a constant reader before she passed, always had a book in her hands, always made sure you did too. You grew up between stacks upon stacks of books, physical ones, and your current apartment has a cityscape of novels, biographies, poetry, graphics, odds and ends and everything in between, fixed up on the floor of every room, read and need to read, all because your bookshelves are already overflowing.

To be frank, research with books is kinda a dying art form, or maybe you’re just talking to the wrong people. Your natural inclination when you’re looking things up is to find a book at work. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not anti-internet by any means, it’s just…there’s something about wandering through the stacks, finding the book you want or need, or sometimes it finds you, and flipping through pages between your fingers, dragging the pads across the lines, like you can somehow absorb information through osmosis.

Sometimes you feel like Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail, working at this little corner bookstore called BookEnds near your apartment and across the street from this perfect café in which you can get one of the best cinnamon scones you’ve ever tasted. You’d defend this place with your heart and soul—it’s not much but it’s everything to you. And people who spend time in here, who find something to buy, see that it’s got so much to offer.

More often than not, people are just unwilling to give it that chance—which is their loss.

Picking up a small stack on the front desk, you run through the titles and from memory, can gather where they go in the aisles without looking anything up. You feel like you need another round of coffee—your cat decided last night was the night to join the opera, and it was consistent and annoying. Almost like being part of a sleep test, up nearly every other hour. Running a hand through your hair, you let out a slow breath. Put these back first, then a coffee I.V. Maybe the café will actually have the hazelnut syrup that they’ve been out of that you’ve been craving.

The door opens, a small ding sounding in the bookshop and you get one look at the guy walking in—gorgeous, toned, blondish hair in larger curls near his forehead. Making a face, you reach for your co-worker’s elbow and gently touch the tip of your nose in a ‘not it’ signal.

Cathy laughs, getting a good look at him. “Oh my god, seriously?”

“He probably wants this obscure book for his girlfriend and I don’t have time to wander around for him while he attempts to get it right.”

She lets out a soft laugh because what? And you can’t help but roll your eyes back at her, a twinge of a smile on your lips. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh—it’s the coffee deficiency.

“I’m coffee deprived, can you just…”

She sighs and pushes past you, leaning against the counter as she smiles over at the handsome guy. “Hi, welcome in. Can I help you find something?”

“Yeah, uh,” He pulls out a list. And honestly you appreciate the grind, but you can’t even begin to think about doing that. “I was wonderin’ if you had any of these on hand?”  

“Actually, you know what,” Cathy says as you round the counter with a stack of go-backs in your arms. “Y/N is pretty awesome at finding stuff like this.”

You stop in your tracks at the sound of your name, turning slowly to Cathy who’s grinning and wandering over with the guy’s list in hand. She trades you, taking the stack of books from your arms as she leans in—

“He’s cute.”

A soft laugh sounds in your throat, glancing over at the waiting customer and…okay, she’s got a point but, so? You’re still under the assumption that he’s here to somehow impress a girlfriend with this laundry list of books. Moving back around the counter, you lean against it to look at what he’s brought in and—

You raise your eyebrows because there’s ten books on this list, ten, and they clearly all fall to the same theme. Elvis: What happened?, Elvis & Me, Last Train to Memphis: The Rise of Elvis Presley…

“You doin’ a book report?”

He hums with a small nod, lifting his hand up to rub the back of his neck, “Somethin’ like that.” And uh, okay, strange—but you can’t deny you’re slightly intrigued. Maybe the guy is just into learning rock history. He’s kinda got that charm to him, just slightly, bedroom eyes, natural charisma.

“You got a thing for Elvis?”

He glances up at you, blue eyes bright and amused even though you’re not sure you get the joke. He smiles then—handsome, it reaches right into your chest and squeezes, “Sure, doesn’t everyone?”

You let out a laugh and gaze through some of the other titles. Your half wondering why he’s come to such a hole-in-the-wall bookstore for these when he probably could have done some sort of mass ordering on Barnes & Noble or Amazon but then he begins to talk again,

“I saw on your website that you do rent before you buy—kinda like a library.”

You hum and nod, “Yeah, we give you a card and everything. I call it ‘the book club for undecided people’.”

He smirks and undoes one of the buttons on his jean jacket, loosening up, your eyes glancing at his fingers as he lingers near the counter. He’s got this simple yet attractive look which…it works for him, doesn’t always for most people. The black jean jacket brings out the lightness in his eyes and the blonde in his hair.

Clearing your throat to kinda reset your brain, you take a look at the list again and do a mental checklist. “Okay so…we’re out of two of these right now and I can only lend out five at a time.”

He raises his eyebrows and you can tell right away that he’s either impressed with your memory or that he doesn’t quite believe the inventory.

“You can recall what you got just by lookin’ at the list?”

You playfully tap your temple, “All up here.”

You’ve worked here for a long time, pretty much all through high school, college…in and outs of this place down to the very floorboards that creak when you walk on them. He then switches gears, running a hand through his hair,

“Only five?” Back to the book renting, “Thought libraries could do a lot more than that.” And you’re about to tell him that this isn’t a real library, pursing your lips to explain— “Any exceptions?”

You scoff out a small laugh because okay, no matter how easily handsome this man is, you slowly turn the sign around that’s next to you on the counter to face him. In red font, Five Books NO EXCEPTIONS.

“We got a low inventory because or Mr. Exceptions like yourself.”

He crinkles his nose, definitely not thrilled with this information but you’re not sure what else you can offer him. “I kinda wanted to just hole myself up in my apartment and read.”

Taking a moment to look at his face, you can tell that there might be something more to it than that but you can’t put your finger on it. “All of them at once?” Just a small joke at his expense, but at least he smiles.

You take a clipboard out from underneath the counter, putting a form on there for him to fill out for the book rental.

“Fill this out, I’ll grab your first five. Unless you have a preference?”

He shakes his head, taking a pen out of the cup near the register. You hum lightly, moving quickly towards the aisles that hold the books you need. There’s a combination of Elvis Presley books in Biographies, Music History, and then some shelf names personal to the bookstore, like: Heartthrob Tragedies and King Shit (which has such a wide variety it’s almost funny).

Bringing back five different books for him, you set them down on the counter as he finishes the signature on the bottom of the form and pushes the clipboard towards you. Picking it up, you grab a card and peel the sticker off the back that his a barcode number on it and paste it to the top of his form.

“Alright,” You smile, “You’re all set. Happy reading.”

He takes a look at the books, his list sticking out the top of one of them. “So I just come back when I’m ready to purchase or trade in?”

“Yep,” You glance down at the form, “Austin.” You smile a little, “We get to do this all over again.”

He laughs softly through his nose, picking up the stack, “Looking forward to it.”

Was that a joke? There was definitely a smirk attached and your eyes follow him as he leaves the bookstore, the little bell jingling to signal his departure. Humming, you look down at the clipboard and begin typing in his information into the computer so he’s registered.

Cathy comes back around the counter, letting out a sigh that’s far too early in the day for. Ugh, you still need that coffee. Okay, form first, then a very large caffeine remedy. She takes the form off the clipboard when you’re done with it and you notice her eyes nearly bulge out of her head.

“What?”

“When were you going to tell me?” She laughs, motioning towards the paper, “I knew he looked familiar. Couldn’t put my finger on it.”

You’re so confused, kinda just blinking at her until she finally explains.

Cathy shakes her head, pointing to the paper, “Austin Butler. You know—Once Upon a Time in Hollywood?, Carrie Diaries…” She grins, “Shannara Chronicles!”

“Okay, now you’re just saying words.” You chuckle, moving forward to touch the bottom of the paper. “You’re saying that was him?”

“Definitely.”

You chew on your lower lip as you take a look at the computer screen, the saved profile of Austin’s in the ‘undecided book club’ tab. What are the odds? And all before your morning coffee.

--

You kinda forget about it—Austin, the Elvis books, the fact that this actor has found this corner of the city bookstore to wander into to look for his novels. Definitely a choice, right? Whatever, he probably won’t even come back himself, have his agent or something drop off the books he thumbed through and call it a day.

Except, you’re scrolling on Instagram one night and you come across a photoshoot of Austin and one click ends up on another post, another share, another Instastory, into a black hole of YouTube interviews and…turns out, seems like Austin is a nice guy. What can you really know from watching a bunch of that stuff, you’re sure he’s different in front of a camera vs. talking to someone but…even candid interactions he has with fans of his seem completely genuine.

There’s this moment where you kinda second guess whether or not that was actually him in the bookstore.

Your mind wanders about a lot of things pertaining to Austin, keeping you awake and staring at the ceiling and the rain against the windowpane. Why all the books on Elvis? Genuine interest or some kind of…research for a new project? A film? Wouldn’t that be interesting. Maybe you’re jumping to conclusion but your mind whirs with possibilities.

And you definitely feel like a zombie when you head into work, even with coffee in hand.

Cathy just kinda snickers at you and says nothing, which is good, because the last thing you’d want to do is ruin this perfectly good cup of coffee by tossing it on her. You get into the groove of the work day, though, helping out customers that wander in, tourists, putting books away that were either returned, misplaced, or from new shipments.

You decide you’re going to put together a great new display in the front of the bookstore for murder mysteries, so that keeps you busy, barely hearing the bell go off until you feel someone come up beside you. You’re debating on labeling it—I got 99 problems but Ms. Scarlet in the Library with a candlestick ain’t one. Probably too long…but funny, right?

“Do you actually read any of these before you put them out in front like this?”

Your heart jolts right up into your throat as you recognize the timbre, stomach flip flopping in this embarrassing way because before you had no idea who Austin even was and now your body is acting like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Centering yourself, you turn a little to look at him, your eyes taking him in. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans and a simple black t-shirt, leather jacket this time because of course he is. Looking far too handsome to just be browsing through books.

“Yes,” You raise your eyebrows, “As many as I can—life gets in the way sometimes, you know.” He hums in agreement, picking up one of the books on display to read the back. You’re feeling antsy underneath your skin, “Buying any books today?”

“Elvis & Me,” He replies, putting the book down to give you his attention. “Really liked that one.”

You smile a little and…swear he’s beginning to sound like Elvis, just a little? Some of the inflections in his tone, the roughness around the edges. Or maybe you’re imagining things.

“Definitely a good one,” You agree, “Kinda sad though.”

“All are kinda sad.” Austin adds and you suppose you can’t disagree with that.

You walk to the counter with him as he takes the other books out, a few pages folded at the tips but you won’t lecture him on that. There’s this comfortable silence that’s filled with cars outside, tires on slick rain-covered pavement, soft movement and people moving throughout the stacks, footsteps on wood.

You open up his profile on the computer by typing in his last name and you kinda glance up at him to find that his eyes are already on you, trailing over your form. You really try not to give him the satisfaction of blushing.

Sighing a little, you lean against the counter and consider your words carefully before meeting his gaze. “So…were you gonna tell me?”

It takes him about a half a second to realize what you’re talking about and he purses his lips, eyes sparkling in shared amusement and cheekiness. “Maybe…would it have let me rent more than five books out at a time?”

You laugh softly, checking off each of the books he’s returned before ringing him up for the Elvis & Me. “No, but that was a solid attempt.” You look at the list he’s brought back and tap the paper with your finger, “Next five?”

He nods and follows you into the stacks as you search for his books. It’s kinda nice actually, because once you find one of the books he wants, you’re able to hand it to him to hold. It doesn’t take you very long, you know this place like a blueprint imprinted on your mind—and Austin notices that.

“What made you want to work here?”

You hum, a small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. You feel like it’s such a loaded question sometimes and you swallow down the urge to reply sarcastically, the knee jerk reaction to defend your choices. Why be a bookstore clerk when you could literally be doing anything else? Like having a successful career?

“Well, it should be fairly obvious that I love books,” You smile over your shoulder, moving towards another aisle, “And uh…” You have no idea why you’re telling him this, he’s practically a stranger, and yet you know Austin relates given your late night research and there’s this aura around him that you can’t explain that makes you feel completely comfortable with him, “Well my mom loved to read, she always had something different in her hands,” You lick your lips, handing him another book. “She died two years ago.”

Austin pauses, a soft nod, “I’m sorry. Makes you feel closer to her, I’m sure.”

As you turn a corner, you hesitate to look at him. He does get it, without you even having to say it, “Yeah, exactly.”

There’s one more book that’s on Austin’s list that you’re having a bit of trouble finding but it’s probably because the teenager who works in here on Saturdays mis-shelved it. You chew on your lower lip, checking one more place.

“So I’m assumin’ you’ve got a favorite book.”

“Oh of course,” You check behind a few novels and…got it. Pulling it out triumphantly, you put it on Austin’s stack in his hands. “Doesn’t everyone? Though it really depends on the mood I’m in—how are you ever supposed to pick just one?”

He smiles as he listens, like the concept of having multiple favorites is intriguing. And it’s definitely one of things you noticed in the interviews you watched, how Austin gives his complete attention over to another person. He might have been the one being asked questions in some cases but he gives that equal attention back—easily looping you into the warmth of the conversation by making sure he knows your name, asking questions back, listening with intent, not just because it looks good.

So you feel like he’s waiting for a legitimate response and…well, you want to give it to him. You do love talking about books.

“Favorite like…I could read it a million times over or favorite as in ‘if I could only pick one book to read for my whole life’?”

He purses his lips, “Last part.”

You hum, something difficult. Alright, well, you enjoy a challenge. You ponder the question a few times over as you both walk to the front of the store, getting ready to check him out for his new set of rented books.

“My favorite is The Things They Carried by Tim’O Brien,” You smile a little, putting his new selection of Elvis related books under his profile and pushing them towards him when you’re done, “It’s historical fiction and I know that sounds boring right off the bat,” You laugh, “But the writing is really beautiful and it’s told in a series of vignettes that you can read separately or out of order.”  

Austin smiles, “You have a copy here?”

Your eyebrows crinkle together a bit in confusion but you nod, “Yeah, I can uh…I can add it to your rent list for next time.”

“I’ll just buy it,” Austin replies, taking his wallet out.

You let out a soft laugh in surprise, “Uhm, I mean…you don’t even know if you’re gonna like it yet.”

“But it comes so highly recommended,” He teases, “And it’ll give me a good reason to ask for your number.”

There’s a long string of moments in which you know he can’t be serious, the back of your neck heating up and your cheeks going red. That seems to be the response he’s after, because his eyes flutter over your face, a small smirk pulling the ends of his mouth. And that doesn’t seem fair at all.

You bite the inside of your cheek, keeping him on his toes too by saying, “Really think I’ll need to hear your review on my favorite book first.”

Austin doesn’t expect that, you can see it on his face as he slowly smiles, nodding as he gathers up the books he’s taking with him. “I’ll be back with a review then.”

And while you’re not exactly going to hold your breath? You can’t say that you’re not looking forward to that.

--

Cathy thinks you’re downright crazy, and maybe you are, but it seemed like such a smooth idea at the time to have Austin wait to get your number. But then a week passes, and then two, and then it’s an entire month.

Then it’s three and you’re almost certain this man isn’t coming back.

There’s no set return date for the books, exactly, either. If a customer doesn’t bring them back within a year, their card is charged. But you have a feeling that’d be something insignificant to someone like Austin. There’s no use fretting over it—maybe you missed a moment, a shot, and yet nothing is stopping him from coming in either, right?

You let it go (barely, but you’re working on it).

Coming into the bookstore later one day than you usually do, a cup of coffee in your hand, you’re looking down at your phone (rookie mistake) and nearly knock someone right over.

“Oh sorry,” You look up at the jet-black haired guy and…blink.

“Just the person I was lookin’ for.” Austin smiles and you’re pretty sure your brain is restarting because—

“Did you…” Your eyes graze over his curls, the style exactly the same except for the shade and it brings out the blueness of his irises. Definitely not a bad look for him, but unquestionably striking in difference, “What were trying to come in undercover since you disappeared for three months?”

He laughs lightly and at least has the decency to look a little guilty, “Yeah I uh, I got caught up,” And there’s an apology in the tone of his voice even though he doesn’t say the words out loud. You wonder if it has anything to do with the sudden hair change…which looks very closely related to Elvis, if you were to think about it.

“But it gave me a chance to read your book like I said I was goin’ to.”

You hum and move towards the counter to put your things down, sliding your coat off your shoulders. You’re genuinely wondering what he thought about it, especially since you didn’t think he would read it at all…or commit book-robbery and come back into the bookstore. So a pleasant surprise for sure and you straighten your shoulders, attempting to shake out the frazzled feeling nipping at the bottom of your stomach.

You pick up your coffee and take a long sip, “So—what about a two-word review to get us started.”

Austin licks his lips, leaning against the counter as he thinks about it. Not an easy answer, for sure, and you’re glad he’s actually taking the time to formulate a response.

And then— “Hauntingly beautiful.”

Your stomach drops straight to your knees and it feels like a breeze brushes through the bookstore, traveling down your spine. You swallow over an emotion in your throat, heartbeat kinda picking up in your ears and while you know it’s a coincidence? It just doesn’t feel like one.

Your mom used to use the exact same words to describe your favorite book. Hauntingly beautiful. Something that Austin would obviously never know.

Taking in a short breath, you grab a post-it from near the register and scribble your name and phone number on it, handing it over to him with a small smile.

“Good answer.”

Austin smirks, taking the post-it with an agreeing hum. You have no idea where this is going to go, if anywhere, but you’ve always been a fan of reading new books…and you’re looking forward to see how this chapter is going to write itself.

[the-wip-project]

SloMo WriMo: Confronting Your Fears

There’s a voice in my head. And it’s telling me to stop writing.

It makes me afraid, telling me that my writing is worthless, that there’s no point, that nothing I do matters. That I suck. That I need to check my ego, pretending that I’m any sort of expert in a position to give advice to others. That if I post this then I’ll be opening myself up to attacks by trolls. Why even bother? It says. No one wants to read your ramblings anyway. Why not just keep your ideas in your head? Where it’s safe?

If you’re reading this? It means that once again I’ve beaten the voice back and written anyway.

There’s a lot of names for that voice. Impostor Syndrome, The Critical Voice. The Inner Editor. Writers Block. (Yes, I am including writers block on this list.) The Superconciousness.

And like it or not, we all have a version of it in our heads.

Writers who write often and freely are not magically free of that voice. The only difference is that they (including me— most of the time) have learned how to corral and even shut out that voice.

How? Every writer has a different bag of tricks, but it’s not as simple as using a program that stops you from rewriting, or only writing in sprints. That can be helpful, but treating the symptoms without confronting the problem will eventually lead to failure.

First you have to pay attention to exactly what is that voice in your head whispering to you. (And don’t let it trick you into believing that it’s not like other inner voices, and is actually is helpful, or truthful.)

Everyone’s inner voice is unique, but if you find yourself:

Needing to do just a bit more research before you can start (even though you’ve already accumulated plenty of knowledge on the subject)

Endlessly editing a section (often the opening!) and never moving any further forward

Suddenly bored with a story even though you were excited to write it just a few thousand words ago

Frequently abandoning writing, and having a hard drive full of almost done manuscripts

If you find yourself frequently doing any of those things? Most likely it’s fear stopping you. Fear of what? Again, it’s different for everyone, but here’s some common ones:

What if it’s bad?

What if it’s made fun of?

What if I fail in my vision?

What if I offend someone (reasonably or not) and a twitter mob descends on me with pitchforks and torches?

What if no one wants to read it?

The thing is, on the surface those fears sound very reasonable. If you write something it could be bad, or stupid, or boring, or offensive.

So what should you do in the face of all these risks?

Honestly? There’s really only two options. Quit, or write it anyway.

Me? I’ve decided to face my fears and write anyway. I assume that anyone reading this wants to do that too.

But how?

In the end it comes down to awareness, and permission.

Here’s how it works for me. I get an idea: What if it’s like Leverage, but in SPACE!!!(but in space is a common idea I have lol) I start writing: This is exciting! Writing an ensemble cast is a fun new challenge! And then suddenly I feel like I’ve hit a wall: This sucks. The characters are boring and hackneyed. No one will ever want to read it. How would I even market something like this? Why am I writing this? I should just quit. I have a different idea that’s much better anyway.

Sound familiar?

But ha! It’s familiar to me too. I know those negative thoughts are just the fear voice talking. So I face them: Fears? You might be right. It might be bad. But I’m going to write it anyway.

And I keep repeating that, reminding myself that it’s okay to write something less than perfect, that it’s okay if it’s bad, and that I still want to write this story, until the writing gets fun again. And it does get fun again. For me at least. I’ve had enough practice at this that the fears really only grip me at certain moments. Unfortunately if the fears have a powerful hold on you, you may have to battle them all the way through. Even if that’s the case, every time you beat them, they will get weaker.

And that’s it. It’s three simple steps.

1. Identify your fears, and how they stop you

2. Challenge the negative thoughts, and give yourself permission to write anyway

3. Keep writing

Easy to say, and hard to do! (Of course I’m not a mental health professional, this is simply my experiences. If what you’re dealing with is severe and/or harming you, please seek professional help.)

I'd love to know what you do to confront your fears!

[ford-between-dimensions]

So...you haven't seen your brother for...well, presumably decades at this point. The last time you did see him was following a 10-year silent period where, prior to THAT, involved watching him get kicked out of your home and disowned as a teenager. You had no contact whatsoever during that 10-year period. You had no idea what he was doing or how he was doing, physically, mentally, emotionally, or financially (especially given your father's "don't come home without millions" threat). Fuck, until those infomercials started coming out, you wouldn't have had a way of knowing if he was even alive.

And when you finally, FINALLY get to talk to him again, the person you essentially haven't seen or known since you were teenagers/kids (teenagers are kids and I stand by that, coming from a 22 year old child, by the way), you decide to berate him. Insult him. Whatever way you want to phrase it. Okay, never mind on that. You'd probably use the word "critique" to soften the blow that it'd have on your psyche and make yourself feel better.

What happened to you, getting pushed into the portal, was specifically an accident. The portal had been turned on without either of you kmowing, especially Stanley given he hadn't been the damn thing for who knows now long. You were pushed during the heat of the moment, which had a ton of underlying tension that had been building for an extremely long time.

I'm not saying there wasn't fault on Stanley's part. There was. But you aren't the perfect person who's never done wrong like you seem to think you are. You've made your own mistakes.

Yes, well, I had no simple means of contacting him then—I had no idea where he was living. By the time I saw his infomercial, we hadn’t spoken for years. We have the same face, but I could barely even recognize him. He was selling garbage like a snake oil salesman, with an egregiously fake name. It left a bad taste in my mouth.

When I finally spoke to him again, it was of my own initiative. I asked a favor of him…and you know how that went. I’m well aware Stanley didn’t intend to “send me to my death” by pushing me into the portal. But that’s just my point. He’s always been reckless, causing accidents left and right and leaving me to deal with the fallout. My future…my life. These are important matters, and regardless of any explanations he can give, the fact is that he put them both at jeopardy.

Yes, I have my lapses of judgements, but nothing that merits any apology towards him. I made a bad call with Bill. That was my mistake. But I was trying to undo all the harm my research had caused. Matters were urgent, and I needed help to accomplish it. I really wanted to believe Stanley could be that help, no questions asked, but he only complicated matters further.

I’ve been plenty patient with him as is…I don’t owe him any more than that.

[smtown-tourist]

Advice from a fellow Fanfic writer:

Writing fanfiction is awesome because it gives us the freedom to continue stories we weren’t ready to end, see characters in a new/different environment, create the romances we wish had been canon, and so on and so forth.

But going into writing your first fic, especially if you are a young writer, can seem pretty overwhelming because you want it to come out amazing. I was once in your place where I had no idea how to go about creating this story that I’ve had stuck in my head. Now, it’s been 12 years since I wrote my first fanfic. That by no means makes me an expect nor a perfect writer, but I’ve learned some things along the way that I want to share because I wish I’d had these tips when I first started out.

Whether you find this helpful is up to you and what you do with it is up to you. Scroll past this for all I care, but I want to put this out there in case no one else has. I’ve also thrown in a little fanfic etiquette for those that are new to fanfiction.

Don’t let anyone else control your story unless YOU want their advice. This is your story and you have the right to make it turn out the way YOU want it to

Always carry something with you (a notebook or the notes app on your phone) to jot down any ideas that come to you. Trust me - you won’t remember them like you think you will

Write detailed notes about your characters (physical description, personality traits, past experiences, likes/dislikes, hobbies, clothing preferences, etc.). These notes will come in handy later on when you’re wanting to throw in personal touches that make your characters seem more realistic

That being said, you don’t need to add a character profile to your story unless YOU want to. Just because it’s helpful to your writing process doesn’t mean it has to become a part of the story

MAJOR PLOT POINTS!!! Keep track of them, even if they’ve already happened. The last thing you want to do is contradict something that has already happened or write yourself into a corner when you’ve strayed away from the original purpose of the story

Write what you feel inspiration to write, no matter how far away that part of the story is. It’s easier to bridge gaps than write in chronological order. It will save you a lot of time down the road

Writer’s block is real!!! And if you are feeling stuck on a certain part, skip it and come back later. I live by the bridge the gap theory

RESEARCH RESEARCH RESEARCH!!! Accuracy and little specific details about a certain something can turn a good story into a great story. It will also keep out those know-it-all commenters that want to correct you

Also, don’t be a know-it-all commenter. No body likes you, I hate to say it. You might think you’re helping but all you’re doing is making a hard working writer feel shitty. Not everyone is well informed on a subject and not everyone wants to put in the time/energy to become well informed. It’s just a fanfic. Get over it

If you don’t want to do research on something before you start writing, that’s okay, too. Whatever details you add to your story are up to you

Your characters don’t have to be realistic for them to be good characters. That’s the beauty of fictional writing - it can be as out there and far from reality as you want it to be

Naming your chapters isn’t important or a necessity but it’s a fun addition that can give your readers a little insight into what that chapter might be about

OUTLINES!!! Writing brief descriptions of what you want to happen can make the writing process go much faster and helps you keep track of where you want the story to go when that nasty writer’s block hits

Reference photos are GREAT for when you have an idea in your head but struggle putting that into writing. It can also make a story more interactive and fun for the reader

If you used a reference photo to help you write something, there is no pressure for you to post that. Nobody needs to know the tools you use in your writing or where an idea for the way something looks comes from

Not every fanfic needs to be a chaptered fic. One-shots can be amazing, too. It’s also okay to have a story start out as a one-shot and turn into a chaptered fic later on

Don’t feel pressured to write any sequels/prequels for a one-shot that got a lot of love. It’s okay to let that story live on as a one-shot. Same goes with a chaptered fic. If you liked how your story ended, you don’t have to continue it just because your readers can’t accept that it’s over

Writing a fanfic is not your job and you owe NOBODY your time. Write when you feel motivated. Don’t let it take up every second of every day unless that makes YOU happy. Burnout is real and a lot of good fanfics go unfinished because of it

If you feel burnt out, take a break, no matter how long that might be. Writing should be fun, not feel like a job on top of everything else in life. And don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for taking a break or quitting altogether. You don’t owe anyone an explanation

It’s OKAY to give up, if it stops being something you enjoy. Writing is meant to bring joy and creativity to your life. Don’t let anybody guilt you into doing something that doesn’t bring you joy anymore

It’s OKAY to give up on a story if you don’t know what to do with it anymore. Not every story you start is going to find that perfect ending. Don’t punish yourself because you feel you owe it to your readers

It’s OKAY to take down a story you no longer feel proud of. It’s your account and it’s your story. What you do with it is YOUR choice

It’s OKAY to leave up stories you don’t feel very proud of because they are proof of your growth. No one should expect perfection from every story you write

It’s OKAY to revise a story you’ve already posted because you weren’t happy with the original. The beautiful thing about digital writing and publishing is that you can delete and edit anything at any time. There is no commitment

It’s OKAY to have those stories you never post online or to even never post anything. Writing should be done for YOUR enjoyment first and for others second. If you don’t feel comfortable sharing that with everyone, that is perfectly acceptable

Not every story you post is going to be a big hit. As long as YOU like it, that is all that matters. Getting a bunch of likes, comments, and subscribers is just a bonus. Don’t beat yourself up because your story isn’t as popular as others

It’s OKAY to celebrate milestones for your story. If your story hits a certain number of likes, subscribers, word count, whatever it may be that you are proud of, share that because you DESERVE to be proud of the hard work you’ve put in

Word count is meaningless. Don’t feel self conscious because of your stories word count. How long or how short a story is doesn’t make it good. It’s the content that makes it good

If you are writing a fanfic for something specific (tv show, book, anime, manga, comic, you name it), don’t feel pressured to include every character/person/animal from that source material. You can include whoever you want because it’s YOUR story

Use your characters however you wish. No one has a right to shame you for how you use your characters. This is a fictional universe that you are creating and you have the right to make it turn out the way YOU want it to

You don’t have to have a Beta (someone who revises your story for you) if you don’t want to have a Beta. If you don’t feel comfortable having someone else doing your editing, that is completely acceptable. Some people prefer to edit themselves and that’s OKAY

Using a Beta doesn’t make you lazy or incompetent. Some people need that extra hand in their writing or don’t have the time/energy to edit, and that’s OKAY

If you have a Beta, it’s OKAY to decline any changes they suggest. In the end, it is YOUR story, not theirs

If you are doing your own editing/revising, I suggest using an editing program like Grammarly. You can reread the same thing a dozen times and still miss those silly mistakes. Programs like Grammarly are also great for non-native English speaking writers because it’ll pick up on those mistakes you didn’t know were mistakes. It will also come up with better ways to word a sentence, improper uses of punctuation, repetitive word usage, and so much more, and the great thing is that YOU get to control the changes it makes

ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS turn on the setting that doesn’t let people select the text. There are some people out there who will steal your story and repost it as their own. There might not be any money coming from posting a story online, but no one should get credit for your hard work and creativity but YOU

If you use an idea or other source material to help you write GIVE CREDIT FOR IT!!!

Don’t leave comments begging someone to update. It never has the effect on the writer that you think it does. Positive comments about the story, like sharing how something made you feel, are so much more motivating than constant pestering

Don’t leave comments bashing a writer’s story, writing style, etc. That’s not constructive criticism. That’s just hateful

Don’t leave any constructive criticism unless the author has ASKED for it. Not everyone appreciates getting unsolicited advice

If you liked a story, SHOW IT IN SOME WAY!!! If this writer has put themself out there to share their writing with the world, and you LIKED IT, they deserve to hear your praise. It’s the only sort of reward that they are getting from something you are reading FOR FREE

If a story ends, it’s okay to be sad about it but don’t pressure someone into writing more because you can’t accept that it’s over. Thank them for their hard work and dedication

If a writer wants their readers to be involved in the story, BE INVOLVED. They are asking for your opinion for a reason and it is so disheartening when they get no responses in return

If your input was asked for and not taken in the end, don’t bash a writer because of that. It’s THEIR story, not yours, and they have the right to make it turn out how THEY want it to. Be grateful that they even asked for your opinion in the first place

If your story has sensitive topics or mature content, add warnings. PLEASE!!! Most fanfic websites have a protocol for stuff like that, but even then, it can’t always properly prepare a reader. Be aware that some of these topics are sensitive to readers, and while it might not be necessarily BAD to write about them, nobody deserves to be unexpectedly triggered. We all want to have a good time - be kind to your fellow readers/writers

That being said, be cautious about what you choose to write. You never know what someone else might take pleasure from. You might write something that is meant to create this heart wrenching, tear jerker of a story that someone else is finding enjoyable and pleasurable. That’s not on you as a writer that they felt that way, but I want you to be aware that there are sick and twisted people out there

Yet, also don’t feel restricted by those people and feel as if you can’t write about something like that because you’re afraid of the wrong hands getting a hold of it, especially if your story deals with how these sensitive topics can affect someone. Some of the darkest writing is also the realist writing, and people who have been through these dark things can sometimes feel seen and heard when they are shown in formats like this. It’s that relatable aspect of a character that makes us fall in love with them and their story

At the end of the day, remember that this is YOUR story, YOUR hobby, and NOBODY has control over it but you. No one is entitled to your hard work, time, and energy. Do what makes YOU happy first

That’s all the advice I can think of to give. I hope it was helpful in some way.

[merp-blerp]

Why I think Rachel Berry is Autistic/Neurodivergent (Coded)

So I think Brittany is the best example of an autistic Glee character, but i think you could make a case for Rachel too. I don’t want to pretend Rachel would be the greatest representation of autistics ever or anything, but I like neurodivergent headcanons as a neurodivergent person and neurodivergent representation is very lacking in quality and quantity, so we currently must make do with coded characters. This is all just my theory, and I don't even claim it to be perfectly air-tight. It's more than okay to disagree with me. Don’t take it too seriously, this is all in good, self-indulgent fun. I should note that I don’t have any credentials to diagnose anyone; I don’t recommend using this as a way of diagnosing yourself. They’re are better forms of research you could do. I also apologize if this post offends any fellow neurodivergent people. Rachel can be a particularly negative character for some and I don’t mean to imply that all neurodivergent people are like her or that neurodivergents that do see themselves in her are bad; I also see some of myself in her a bit and this neurodivergent interpretation of her makes me like and understand her a bit better. I also don’t want to make it seem like I think neurodivergence is a negative thing inherently. It isn’t at all. I think Rachel’s personality could make her do negative things, but the neurodivergence itself isn’t negative. The post was very inspired by @smolbrittana and their post on Britt’s neurodivergence. Definitely recommend it you’re interested.

So let’s start with some autistic traits and assessing how they might fit Rachel:

Special Interest/Hyperinflations

Barbara Streisand, Funny Girl, West Side Story, theatrical things in general. Need I say more? I will, no matter what you think. Rachel is obviously very obsessive over the things she likes, but also what she wants. From wanting tons of attention from her various crushes in high school, wanting Quinn’s friendship, wanting to be a the best constantly, getting into NYADA and not even really considering alternatives, etc. These are flaws in her character in some situations, but I don’t think it comes from a place of malice… typically. The crackhouse stuff was messed up, but I think this comes from her brain just latching onto things, to the point where these things become a part of her personality almost and in her head there’s no alternative positive situation conceivable to her other than getting what she wants. All or nothing. If something doesn’t happen the way she wants it it feels like a personal attack. Like being a star and shaping her life around being like her idols, but when she feels like someone could upstage her she… sends them to a crackhouse. I bet the reason why she’s so talented from such an early age is because she hyperfixated on being great at what she want to be, great like Barbara Streisand. I also think that this is why Rachel is so forgiving. She hyperfixates on belonging and others liking her, so she’s willing to forgive those around her no matter what they’ve done to her, best example being Quinn. She obsesses over her own perfection; for example, her NYADA audition where she messes up and feels like she has to completely start over and perfect it all the way through rather than continue through it (which I believe is what you’re supposed to do in a situation like that—I know I’ve seen real broadway actors push though their mistakes). Perfection is the only option to her at times.

Social Difficulties

Rachel is not good at social interactions. I think she feels things very intensely and sometimes can’t “properly” express emotions, at least not in a neurotypical way, therefore coming off as awkward or like a jerk. Sometimes she is a jerk, but I digress. Her first interactions with Finn are very awkward because of the way she goes about them. She goes in too strong, clearly feeling a lot for him already, and freaks him out, but it happened to be in a way that seemingly still endeared him. From his perspective, she’s also just… off putting, probably, because she’s neurodivergent and he’s neurotypical. He still falls for and cares for her, of course, but knows she’s different. Essentially in Season 1-2, her interactions with others are often turned up to eleven in terms of intensity/awkwardness.

“Abnormal” Speech

In the early seasons Rachel has this very fast, high-pitched, matter-of-fact way of speaking. This speech pattern goes away as the series goes on so gradually it might not even be noticed till it’s gone (and I have a theory on why it goes away, but more on that later). I think it’s departure is most noticeable in S4 E12, where Rachel imagines communicating with her younger self. There’s a clear difference in how to two Rachels talk and even sing and it’s interesting to see that contrast (and I gotta applaud Lea for being able to show that, however annoying, she is talented). She also has a very colorful vocabulary, which could also be a symptom.

Intense Emotions & Aggression

Totally. Rachel gets very upset when she doesn’t get her way, to a fault sometimes. Her taking it so personally when Tina was chosen to play Maria in West Side Story, saying it was “my part” (another example of her connecting to her special interest so personally). Her pissed off behavior towards Finn after she tried to cheat on him with Puck and kept telling him to forgive her rather than letting him come to a conclusion himself in S2 was very unselfaware. Sending Sunshine to a crackhouse when she felt threatened by her talent. Disrespecting her dance teacher when she grades her “Oops I Did It Again” number. She takes what she perceives as threats very personally, which might be a Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (RSD) thing. Santana has a lot of rage, but damn so does Rachel. This could also be related to her feeling very intensely about her special interests or her strong sense of justice, which I’ll get into later.

Hyper-empathy/Low empathy

Rachel’s tendency to not take other’s feelings into account might exhibit low empathy. Now, it’s worth saying that just because a person doesn’t have emotional or cognitive empathy doesn’t mean they’re a bad person. I believe that as long as they’re able to have sympathy and/or compassion they’re good. Empathy is like being able to put yourself in someone’s shoes; feel the things they feel on a personal level, whether you’ve been though what they have or not. Sympathy is only being able to look a those shoes; seeing and logically understanding the other’s emotions, but not feeling them on a personal level. And you can still show compassion either way.

Stimming/Fidgeting

Now this one was hard to find evidence for, and that’s fine. Not every neurodivergent person stims or fidgets in a particularly neurodivergent way. Most people, neurodivergent or not, stims in some way. Any movement can be stimming. I feel like that fast, peppy walk thing she does, particularly when she’s angry, might be a stimy thing. Like she has so much stimulation that she has to really move and get it out of her system. I also do this when something excites me. I’m pretty sure I remember Santana (?) calling it a “bird walk” or something and said that she walk with a “weird pointy toe” way. Rachel’s body language does remind me of a bird some times, like how when she’s upset she’ll move her head in these very quick, twitchy or jerky movements. She holds herself in a certain way when she sings, which became most apparent to me when Jenna Ushkowitz (Tina’s actresses) talked about mimicking these movements in the behind-the-scenes for S3 E20. She jumps up and down and touches her face when she’s happy, and presses her face against the wall when she’s distressed. Might be stimy things too.

“Abnormal” Body language

Rachel has some very upright posture. It’s very proper in the earlier seasons. Somewhat “stiff”, if you will. Her facial expressions are very, for lack of a better word I can think of, extreme. Always the most they could be. If she’s smiling, she’s really smiling. If she’s crying, she’s really crying. Et cetera, et cetera. Like her speech, this relaxes as she gets older, however, I’ve noticed that during her time with Funny Girl, especially during the understudy auditions and her fight with Santana, both her straight lace posture and body language, “bird” mannerism, odd speech pattern, and other traits comes up again, but for the negative. It was like Rachel was hurt and regressed.

Anxiety & Depression

As I mentioned, Rachel regresses into a negative version of her traits in S5. This isn’t to excuse her, I hate Rachel’s actions during this plot-line as much as the next guy, but this could explain it. I’ve theorized that Finn’s death, the pressure of being on Broadway and the excitement yet anxiety of reaching her dreams so quickly to the point where she felt stuck in monotony might have made her somewhat regress back to how she was in early high school after having grown past it. Like she wanted things to be the way they had been before and lashed out against her own success, almost subconsciously/unknowingly sabotaging herself due to this regression. And then after losing her TV show she’s at her lowest in terms of people seeing her talent as something worth putting value into and she does have her come-to-Jesus moment when she goes back home, her actions finally weighting on her and her having to rebuild herself. Somewhat alternately, you could say that Rachel started masking in New York; maybe she knew that not masking in high school made her a target for bullying, so in NYADA she attempted to mask her neurodivergent traits so she could fit in better. This could explain her change in clothes, makeup, mannerisms, speak-pattern, et cetera. Of course, you can’t truly hide you neurodivergent traits, so Rachel is still quite othered in NYADA. Neurotypicals often can tell when someone’s neurodivergent though subjective social data and other them, whether they know they’re doing that or not. So her masking leads to a breakdown because masking is exhausting and painful for a lot of neurodivergents. She breaks. A covert mental breakdown is honestly the only way I can rationalize her leaving Broadway for TV; logically it doesn’t make much sense for her to have done that in my opinion. That’s why I think returning to Lima was good for her to start fresh and grow again in S6. A part of me almost wants to call it a neurodivergent burn-out or masking that led to a shutdown/meltdown. Rachel definitely fits the quota for “gifted kid syndrome”, being surrounded by yes-men all her childhood, and that could led to burn-out when you’re no longer around that. I think Rachel had been struggling for a while but hadn’t expressed it in a healthy way that was true to herself and so she didn’t really process her feelings or shit actions till her “meltdown/shutdown”, if you will, till S6. But that’s just a theory on what happened to her character. It’s hard to assess this part of Rachel’s arc because even though I think it could’ve made sense and it could’ve been interesting, it ended up being one of the worse written plot points of the show, and that is saying something because Glee fans are well aware this show’s not a perfect masterpiece.

Gifted Kid Syndrome

Many autistic people are seen as gifted or special in youth, and sometimes that expands into adulthood. Rachel definitely was seen this way by others and saw herself that way too. There are countless examples of character going on about how talented Rachel is at singing, whether they’re praising her or insulting her. And we know from the first episode of the series that she’s been seen that way for a while.

Rituals, Sensory Processing, and Perfectionism

Rachel has a strict morning schedule and moisturizing ritual. She also flosses between classes, which could be a ritual thing and/or a sensory thing. I feel like her very preppy clothing style in the early season could’ve also been a ritual thing and/or a sensory thing. It’s like she had to dress this way either because it’s a routinely thing or because she felt uncomfortably in other clothes (probably routine, because she does stop dressing like that in the later season, unfortunately—that style was so cute. But hey, putting yourself through clothing sensory hell for the sake of masking, due to the fact people made fun of your preferred clothes in the past, could add to that meltdown/shutdown theory I have). She also has moments where, while stressed, she rest the top of her head on the wall. Also likely a sensory thing to me. She seems very strict on these being done perfectly. She can’t do imperfection and things not being done her way. (Also, I don’t know how true it is, but I swear I remember hearing a trait of autism could be having perfect pitch. Of course Rachel seems to, but I’m not a super smart music person so I don’t know how to tell myself).

Deep intreats in animal

Rachel often wears animal themed clothing in the early seasons and she’s vegan. She also berated that woman for caring her service dog in her purse in S5 E19, assuming she knew more about the woman’s service dog needs than the woman herself. She cares about animals a lot.

A strong sense of justice

This part of Rachel gets forgotten or undermined I think and I wanted to acknowledge it. Especially by S3, Rachel really fights for her friends and against whatever she believes is an injustice. This isn’t to say she’s always in the right with these behaviors or that she’s the best ally to everyone, just that these traits are here. Before Glee club she joined in a lot of advocacy clubs (some she really shouldn’t have been in, but it’s framed that way), she wanted to start a “Gay-Les-All” (The Gay-Lesbian-Alliance), and she regularly protests Mr. 👞, whether it’s by storming out of class or putting tape over her mouth in silent protest when she thinks he’s undermining her talent. In S1-2 it feels entitled most of the time, but I think it becomes a bit more selfless in S3, at least for a while, with her being very for Kurt during the student election, to the point where she stuffs the ballot box and gets suspended for it. Still not a good action, but with good, selfless intentions. She berates that one woman in S5 E19, which is still bad and misinformed of her, but it’s an example. She also stands up to her teacher when she didn’t like her “Oops I Did It Again” performance. And I think, while in the wrong, Rachel was just trying to stand up for herself against a teacher who bullied her a lot.

Difficulty “Fitting in”

This is Rachel’s entire story. Trying to find somewhere she felt she belonged. She wanted to be a part of something special to make her special. I believe this is a part of why she is obsessed with feeling like the best in the room. She was bullied and different from others so she felt very othered; maybe she tried to interpret this othered feeling as “I’m better, they just don’t realize” as a coping mechanism, but I think deep down she knew that wasn’t the case and everyone hated her for other reasons (some justifiable, some ableist if you say she’s neurodivergent) and she had to learn she could share the spotlight and shine along with people at her level. A very “Oh No!” By Marina (and the Diamonds)—“I feel like I’m the worse, so I always act like I’m the best” type deal. In S2 she begins to take down the pedestal she (and others) put herself on as a defense and become self aware and this continues into S3, then the cycle happens again in S4-5 where she starts putting herself up on that defense pedestal again, then takes herself down once more in S6 to her own rock bottom so she can be on healthy ground again by the flash forward and the end of the series. This isn’t perfectly done, but it’s done well enough where I can see that was the goal they might’ve been going for with her, and I appreciate that type of nonlinear character arc, it just wasn’t done well here. Like, not only was it nonlinear in story but also in writing quality and that’s where it’s faulty. Even when you take away all the neurodivergent framework—all the stuff about rituals, shutdown, et centra—this reading could still make sense for Rachel. She’s queen of the outcast who has to humble herself in order to thrive.

Thank you reading! I hope I was clear and coherent enough in this. If you have anymore points to make about this reading of Rachel let me know—I’d love to see!

[thoselethalarts]

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝒽𝓁𝒾 ℋ𝑒𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓇 - 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒮𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓎

(SR) Lab Coats (Part 2): “What a Better Opportunity Than Now!”

(NRC: Botanical Gardens)

(A few weeks later…)

Stahli: Awww~ Look at you cute little things~! All the berries are looking so fresh and healthy~! Stahli: So fascinating… The main berries I used to cross-pollinate were blackberries and raspberries… But somehow every raspberry and blackberry plant was of a different origin, and now all of their fruits are different still from their parent plants! Stahli: Boysenberries, loganberries, tummelberries, and veitchberries are all hybrid species that came from these two parent plants according to my research… I wonder if I can tell which ones are which from the taste alone.

(Stahli pops one of the berries into his mouth and munches on it slowly)

Stahli: …Hm! There’s no doubt, this is just like a real boysenberry...! Stahli: The flavor is a little different from the ones you would find at the store, probably because I didn’t spend many generations growing these and perfecting their flavors, but still! Stahli: I can already think of so many things this would be good in~ I can’t wait to pick them and get started on the fun part!

(Heavy footsteps approach Stahli)

Trey: Haah… what a day.

Stahli: Oh! Hi Trey! Oh… are you alright mein freund? You look exhausted.

Trey: Do I really look that tired? Trey: Well, exhausted really doesn’t cover it. Exasperated sounds a bit more accurate. Trey: Needless to say, I won’t be staying long for club today. I’ve got so much work I have to do for tonight.

Stahli: Oh dear! Whatever happened?

Trey: Well, you probably already know this but in Heartslabyul we have frequent tea parties and Unbirthday Parties that we celebrate every month, per the rule of the Queen of Hearts. Trey: We’re supposed to have one of those parties tonight, and I’m usually in charge of prepping all the baking since I’m the only one in our dorm that has the know-how to do so. Trey: But this morning a bunch of freshmen decided to make omelets for breakfast, a ton of them, and they used up the last of the eggs that we had on hand. Trey: I told them, “That’s fine, no big deal, just go to Sam’s shop to get some more”, since it seemed only fair that they replace them after using them all. Trey: But they said they didn’t have any money. I told them that’s fine, but that means I’d have to tell Riddle to get the funds for them. Trey: By the time I came back with the money, they were all nowhere to be found. Probably just didn’t want to face the consequences of their own actions.

Stahli: Oh dear, yes that does sound likely.

Trey: Yeah… which okay, fine, whatever, I’ll just get them myself then. But when I went to Sam’s to pick up some more he said they were… not in stock.

Stahli: Gasp! No! The Great and Mighty Sam, he whose shop is always IN STOCK NOW?! He was out of stock?!

Trey: Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. He said that he sold his last carton that morning, and would get more in by tomorrow. Trey: So now I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t have the time today to run into town to pick some up and still make what I need with them, and I’m kind of at my wits end thinking about it. Trey: I can make pies and tarts just fine without eggs, but I promised Riddle I would make him a specific cake for today’s tea party. Without any eggs to make it I’m kind of SOL.

Stahli: Hmm… Well, have you tried applesauce?

Trey: …What? Trey: Stahli, this is for a tea party. I don’t think Riddle would be very pleased with having just a bowl of applesauce as a replacement for a whole cake.

Stahli: No, no! I mean to replace the eggs in the recipe! Use applesauce to replace the eggs!

Trey: Applesauce… to replace the eggs?

Stahli: Or bananas, if you have those on hand.

Trey: Wh- Wait no, there’s no way that would work… would it?

Stahli: I would drink poison on it! My mother does it all the time, after all. Stahli: We have plenty of apples around my house because of our apple tree, and sometimes my stepmother’s chickens don’t always lay in the morning, so we’ll use applesauce instead for our morning pancakes! Stahli: I believe it’s about… ¼ cup of unsweetened applesauce or mashed banana per large egg to use it as a substitution ingredient. It works perfectly fine as a replacement! Stahli: She gave me a whole list of ingredients that can be used to replace others in a pinch if needed, I have them written down if you’d like to try any of them. Stahli: They might not work the same for something like a tart crust, but if you made a cake or something similar it would come out just fine!

Trey: I mean if you say it’ll work I guess I can try it. Honestly, I suppose anything would work better than what I’m currently stuck with in a situation like this.

Stahli: You’ve said before that you’re not comfortable with experimenting when you already trust what you have on hand, ja? Stahli: But what a better opportunity than now to experiment with a new recipe when you’re missing what you already know how to use by heart!

Trey: I suppose dire times do come with creative solutions. Alright, I’ll give these substitutions a shot and see what I can do. Trey: If I leave now I should have just enough time to pick up some applesauce and then get back to Heartslabyul with enough time to start baking.

Stahli: Or bananas! If he doesn’t have applesauce then bananas will work too, don’t forget!

Trey: I got it, I got it. Trey: Thank you again Stahli, I’ll let you know how it went when see you later!

(Trey runs off, leaving Stahli alone)

Stahli: Whew! I’m sure everything will go alright with him~ Stahli: And speaking of experiments, I think it’s time to harvest these berries and have a little baking experiment of my own~ I can’t wait to start!

/ End.

[jmagnabo92]

James Lives!!! I would love a snippet if your happy to share one ❤️

I love the James Lives Series:

Rebuilding

First Date

Wooing Sirius Black

The first part is Lily dying and Sirius helping James through it. And James discovering he's got feelings. The second is their first date and the third is Sirius & James dating and struggling along the way.

So the next section doesn't have a name yet, but it picks up six months after WSB on their anniversary.

***

James smiles as he and Sirius sit across from each other for their anniversary dinner.  In the last six months things had been nothing short of perfect.  He and Sirius spent every day together raising their son and just enjoying each other.  Their home is a perfect display of their little family and they’ve never been happier.  

         “I love that smile,” Sirius grins.  

         “I love you.”

         “I love you, too.”

         “What do you think of our date so far?” James asks.  Knowing how much Sirius loved nature, James had taken him to the Redgrave and Lopham Fen National Nature Reserve where they got to walk through the nature and enjoy just being outside together.  

         Despite James’ reserves, they had even joined the animals in the preserve for a bit as Padfoot and Prongs, and honestly, it made him a little nostalgic, but not enough that he’d be Prongs if he could avoid it.  It’d just been a treat for Sirius for their anniversary.  

         “I’m loving it – I love spending time with you.  Anything we do together is always brilliant.”

         “Hmm-mm, I agree,” James smiles.  “Although I’m quite happy that you let me plan this date since I know you like to plan the big event dates.”

         Sirius grins, “Well, I got to plan this morning’s activities and tonight’s activities, it’s only fair to let you do the middle.”

         James blushes as he thinks about waking up to Sirius sucking him off (only it was just a tease), he got him just to the edge before stopping and telling him that he’d enjoy buggering him in the shower instead.  His arse was pleasantly sore, and he’d delighted in letting Sirius dress him in his favorite pair of lingerie (Sirius hasn’t let a day go by without choosing James’ underwear and James loves it) afterwards before having breakfast with Harry and then dropping him off with Spencer and Evan to play with Alex.

         “Yes, well, I do look forward to that – I love when you make those plans,” James agrees, shifting slightly as he reaches into his bag for a couple of presents.  “But I do believe that we agreed to do presents at dinner.  Er – one of these isn’t exactly romantic in nature, but I think you’ll like it.”

         Sirius accepts the gift hesitantly.  “Er – alright.”

         “Go on, open it.”

         Sirius opens the box to see a brochure for the local university, and two books on A levels and GCSEs (the muggle tests that Sirius obviously hadn’t taken).  “I – I don’t understand.”

         James clears his throat.  “You and Spencer have spent almost every ‘mummy and me’ class talking about his research and being a professor at the university.  It seems pretty obvious to me that you really want to go back to school – study something new, maybe get into research and become a professor.”

         Sirius looks down at the books and back up at James.  “Oh, love, this is – are you sure you’d be okay with that?  We barely spend any time apart.”

         James smiles, as he reaches across the table to grab his hand.  “Si, you’ve been a light in my life for the last almost three years.  You gave up your career to be by my side and help me raise our son, I can’t ever explain how much you mean to me, and I know that you don’t want to go back to the aurors, but I also know that you do still have that curiosity and desire for adventure.  Since I’m more than happy to be a stay-at-home dad, and I can handle time without you now, I wanted to give you the opportunity to – to follow a new dream because I love you.”

         “I love you, too,” Sirius says, kissing the knuckles on his hand.  “And I – I love this so much.  If you’re sure, I would like to – to look at other opportunities.  All of Spencer’s research has been delightful and I’ve been very interested in learning more or doing my own and maybe being an astronomy professor – I still love the stars despite my family’s efforts to destroy that interest by making it a ‘Black thing’.”

         “I’m okay with it.  I want you to live your life to the fullest and do whatever you fancy.”

         “Especially if that fancy leads me to doing you,” Sirius teases.  

         James chuckles, “Now who’s only thinking about our fun together?”

         Sirius laughs.  “You aren’t complaining, are you?”

         “Not at all.”

Hope you like it. :)

[trans-peridot]

FFxivWrite Day 23: On Cloud Nine

Makeup from a week ago! A scene I decided to put some extra time into, still ended up too dialogue-heavy. Tayfun announces her retirement plans to the Scions.

Tayfun was on cloud nine. The world was beautiful, everything was so beautiful. For once in her stupid godsdamned life, everything was all the way perfect. Saffron had finally been freed from prison: Tayfun had saved the world enough times that she could cash in a single get out of jail free card with Ul’dah. The Scions had finally returned to their bodies from the First: it had only taken grueling battle with the two remaining Unsundered, mere months apart, to secure their path back to the Source. The Ascians were all but routed: the three Unsundered were returned to the lifestream and there was no way those remaining could regroup meaningfully enough for any more rejoinings. Tempering had been cured. Tempering! The number one thing they had once had no power to stop, they had just found a cure for it! Everything was finally, finally okay.

Tayfun didn’t need to fight anymore.

So she called her friends together to share the good news. “Hello everyone. You may be wondering why I've called this all hands meeting.”

Y'shtola sighed. “What manner of world-ending cataclysm is it now? The Great Serpent of Ronka has traveled between worlds to lay waste to Eorzea? An invasion of replicant humanoids from another timeline? I've just been in a coma, you know. I was hoping to get some research done while I recover my strength.”

“Nay, Y'shtola, nothing like that.”

Alisaie asked, “Has Ga Bu relapsed on his tempering somehow?”

Alphinaud asked, “Is Garlemald invading again, again?”

“No, it's not anything bad!”

Thancred smirked. “Is Urianger once again pretending to betray us, ultimately for the greater good?” He gave Urianger, who was of course right there, a funny look.

Urianger elbowed Thancred and snickered a little. Wait a minute, what was their deal? No, not important right now.

“I said it isn't anything bad, Thancred! I've called you here to invite you all... To my wedding to Saffron.”

“She's finally free? Truly?” G'raha's tail perked up. Calm down, babygirl. “I've always been so curious to meet her. Ever since our NOAH days when you very pointedly said ‘I have a fiancé. A girl fiancé,’ and glared at me.”

“Okay I wouldn’t say I glared at you, just- Whatever. You’re all invited to the wedding at the Sanctum of the Twelve, followed by a combination reception and retirement party.”

Alisaie looked befuddled. “Retirement? Surely you don’t mean your own?”

“Surely I do. I’ve saved the world enough times and put my life in peril over and over, and now it finally seems like things are calming down. When I thought I’d be waiting decades for Saffron to be free, I thought maybe I could keep doing this forever, but now I know this cannot sustain.”

“But we need you, Tayfun! You’re the Warrior of Light, Hydaelyn’s personal chosen! The Ascians may be defeated but there will ever be new threats to our world.” Alisaie looked at her so pleadingly. “And you’re our friend. Maybe we also don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

“Well it's a good thing, then, that you know where I live and you won't need to say goodbye. By all means, you can visit in between your great adventures.”

G'raha practically threw himself on Tayfun. “But what about your promise? You swore to me you would take me with you on your next adventure!”

“G'raha, this is my next adventure. Getting married, settling down. I won't be inviting you into bed with us, so consider going to my wedding my taking you with me. This is what I want to do next and I had really been hoping you would all be more supportive than this. The entire time any of you have known me, this is what I've been waiting for.”

“Thou shalt be sorely missed, my friend. Yet in my heart I am certain that we all shall come to support your decision.” Urianger elbowed Thancred again. So they were, like, definitely fucking, right?

“Um, yes, I support your decisions no matter what.” What a rote response. Fatherhood had changed the man.

“Thank you, both of you. I can't wait to never have to save the world again.”

[estatedekho23]

The Hidden Gem of Hyderabad: Exploring DTCP Plots in Kadthal

Introduction: Welcome to Kadthal!

So, you’re thinking about investing in some land, huh? Well, let me tell you, Kadthal is the place to be! Nestled in the burgeoning outskirts of Hyderabad, Kadthal is like that underrated restaurant that your friends don’t know about yet – but it’s only a matter of time before it gets super popular. And what’s the hot topic in Kadthal these days? DTCP plots! But wait, what exactly are these DTCP plots, and why should you care? Buckle up, because we’re about to dive into the nitty-gritty of it all.

What Are DTCP Plots?

Let’s start with the basics. DTCP stands for Directorate of Town and Country Planning. When we talk about DTCP plots, we’re referring to land that’s been approved by this governmental body. Think of DTCP as the ultimate quality assurance department. They make sure everything is in tip-top shape, so you don’t end up buying a plot that’s halfway in someone else’s backyard.

Why Choose DTCP Plots?

You might be wondering, “Why should I go for DTCP plots and not any other?” Well, here are a few reasons:

Regulatory Approval: DTCP approval means the land is legally sound. No need to worry about midnight demolitions.

Infrastructure Development: DTCP plots are often located in areas with planned infrastructure – roads, water supply, electricity, you name it.

Investment Security: Since DTCP plots are regulated, they offer a safer investment compared to unapproved lands.

Kadthal: The Emerging Real Estate Hub

Now that we’re clear on what DTCP plots are, let’s zoom in on Kadthal. Located around 50 kilometers from Hyderabad, Kadthal is not just any village. It’s on the brink of transformation, thanks to its strategic location and ongoing developments.

Strategic Location

Kadthal is conveniently situated on the Srisailam Highway, making it a key area for real estate development. With the Hyderabad Pharma City and the upcoming Amazon Data Center nearby, it’s no wonder Kadthal is catching the eyes of investors.

Affordable Land Prices

Compared to the sky-high prices in Hyderabad city, Kadthal offers a more wallet-friendly option. It’s like buying Bitcoin in 2010 – low entry cost with potential for high returns. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that pie?

Benefits of Investing in DTCP Plots in Kadthal

Alright, so Kadthal is great, but why specifically should you invest in DTCP plots here? Let’s break it down.

1. Future Growth Potential

Kadthal is set to be a major player in Hyderabad’s expansion plans. The development projects around the area are like bread crumbs leading to a feast – and you don’t want to miss out.

2. Excellent Connectivity

With the Outer Ring Road (ORR) and the Srisailam Highway, getting to and from Kadthal is a breeze. No more spending hours in traffic, unless you really enjoy listening to your car’s engine hum.

3. Amenities Galore

From educational institutions to healthcare facilities, Kadthal is equipped to cater to your needs. It’s like having your cake and eating it too – the convenience of city life without the chaos.

4. Eco-Friendly Environment

Kadthal offers a breath of fresh air, literally. With plenty of green spaces and a pollution-free environment, it’s the perfect place for those who want to escape the urban jungle.

Things to Consider Before Buying a DTCP Plot in Kadthal

Okay, so you’re sold on the idea of a DTCP plot in Kadthal. But before you rush off to make a purchase, here are a few things to keep in mind.

1. Check the Approvals

Always verify the DTCP approval status of the plot. It’s like checking if your favorite restaurant has a food safety certificate – better safe than sorry!

2. Research the Developer

Not all developers are created equal. Do your homework and ensure the developer has a good track record. You don’t want to end up with a lemon, do you?

3. Understand the Market

Get a feel for the local real estate market. Talk to locals, consult real estate agents, and keep an eye on market trends. Knowledge is power, after all.

4. Inspect the Infrastructure

Make sure the basic infrastructure – roads, water, electricity – is in place or in the pipeline. It’s like buying a house; you wouldn’t want to move in and find out there’s no plumbing.

Personal Anecdotes: My Kadthal Adventure

Let me share a little story. A couple of months ago, a friend of mine, let’s call him Raj, decided to buy a DTCP plot in Kadthal. He was initially skeptical, much like you might be. But after a weekend trip to Kadthal (and a couple of spicy biryanis), he was convinced. Fast forward to today, and Raj is the proud owner of a DTCP plot with plans to build his dream farmhouse. Every time we catch up, he can’t stop raving about his decision. “It’s like having my cake and eating it too!” he says. Moral of the story? Sometimes, taking that leap of faith pays off.

Conclusion: Is Kadthal the Right Choice for You?

Investing in real estate is no small feat. It’s like choosing a life partner – you want to make sure it’s the right fit. Kadthal, with its strategic location, affordable prices, and future growth potential, certainly makes a compelling case. Whether you’re looking for a secure investment or planning to build your dream home, DTCP plots in Kadthal might just be the hidden gem you’ve been searching for.

So, what are you waiting for? Pack your bags, take a trip to Kadthal, and who knows, you might just find the perfect plot of land waiting for you. And remember, in the wise words of Raj, “It’s all about taking that leap of faith.” Happy investing!

FAQs About DTCP Plots in Kadthal

To wrap things up, here are some frequently asked questions that might help you make an informed decision.

1. What exactly is DTCP approval?

DTCP approval ensures that the land meets all regulatory requirements and is legally safe for development.

2. How do I verify if a plot is DTCP approved?

You can check the DTCP website or contact the local planning authority for verification.

3. What is the price range for DTCP plots in Kadthal?

Prices can vary, but on average, they are more affordable compared to plots within Hyderabad city limits.

4. Are there financing options available for purchasing DTCP plots?

Yes, many banks and financial institutions offer loans for purchasing DTCP plots.

5. What are the future prospects of investing in Kadthal?

With ongoing infrastructure developments and strategic projects nearby, the future looks promising for Kadthal.

Visit estatedekho.com for more information about DTCP Plots in Kadthal Srisailam Highway Hyderabad. Estatedekho is an online platform that offers sellers, potential clients, buyers verified plots, and professional agents at service.

[rheasmirror]

(TMW Arceus edition. Where Felix is Volo)

Any attempt to open my eyes was met with the blinding sun as it rose on the horizon, I could just make the outline of someone in the distance, maybe a young man? But he’s walking away, I can’t call out to him, my voice was too hoarse. I was fading fast, ‘how could I be so drows- did I hit my head on the way down? It ached so badly, I had to stay awake. Concussions are bad. That is, if I had one. Did I fall? Where am -....’

Someone picked me up. I could feel their arms around me. Anything else.. I can’t remember anything except for waking up on a beach to someone exclaiming. 

“Hey are you okay?” 

My eyes fluttered open and looked to see a stout looking man in a lab coat and hat what looked like a grape on his head. 

“M-mhm. Where am I?”

He approached me and offered a hand so I could stand. 

“By Sinnoh, you don’t know where you are? This is the Hisui region.” 

‘....Sinnoh? Hisui?’

I heard chirping noises and noticed three strange creatures at our feet, I learned they were something called pokemon, but that they were different types. These ones were called a rowlet, a cyndaquil and an oshawott, who were each gazing up at me curiously. 

“Blasted things.. These three ran from my lab this morning towards this location and found you here. My word, its almost like they knew you would be here” he shook his head. 

“Pokemon are strange things but beautiful all the same.”

I smiled softly as I watched the three chatter and scamper off, the man groaned before walking to chase them. 

“Argh noo!! Listen, can you help me quickly? I need to catch those three to take back for research, I’ll reward you handsomely for it.” 

I nodded before following him while receiving a lecture on how to use a poke ball, and that his name is professor Laventon. We finally came to where the creatures had evaded us and the professor gave me several pokeballs. 

“Alright. Its all in the wrist, young lady” 

I took a deep breath and threw the ball at the first, then the second and third, each one catching.

“Very nicely done!” 

He praised me, and he took me to a village not far from the beach. From there, well. That’s where my story begins. My name is Rhea, and I fell through time and space to a far away land where I met the love of my life, and just like that.. I lost him. A few days into my being there, I was accepted into their way of life, and even got to choose my own pokemon to start with. It was really cute, but also the perfect partner. It anticipates everything I need in every moment. It was an eevee. Not many people here would have considered using it to start with, but it seemed to pick up a lot of my moods. 

Like now, I am anxious as I received my first mission from Kamado. Eevee sat on my shoulder and gave my cheek a light nudge in reassurement. 

“Now Rhea.. There have been many strange things lately. First you fall from the sky, then lightning strikes and shadows across the lands. It seems the mysteries of this land may be against you. It is on you to discover the meaning behind these happenings. People don’t take kindly to their peace being destroyed.”

I nodded listening to him, and he dismissed me. Captain Cyllene gave me additional orders to help Professor Laventon with pokemon Research. 

I exited the building to proceed towards the exit when I heard an all too familiar voice. 

“Well well well, if it isn’t the little bird”

I’ve only been here a few days, and made friends with a local merchant by the name of Volo. 

I blushed softly as I turned to see him, and he had that same playful smile on his face. 

“Hey Vo, what are you up to?” I smiled looking up to him. His arm was wrapped around my shoulder while he was looking down at me. 

“Oh I just heard ya got your first mission, are you heading out now?”

I nodded while I hugged him from the side. 

“Rei is coming with me to the Cobalt coastlands, and we are seeing what kind of pokemon are out there. Where are you headed to?”

“Ah just to the Mirelands, rumor’s about old lore and stuff, you know me being curious about the almighty Sinnoh”

A light giggle escaped from my throat while my eyes rolled before pulling away. 

“Would milady do me the honor of battling before we leave~?” Volo asked in a teasing voice. 

“Okay but you know I am gonna whoop ya~”

Eevee chirped and hopped nuzzling against his Togepi who chirtled away happily before they each got into a fighting stance. 

After a few minutes, Volo chuckled as I had yet again won the battle.

“Girly just wait. One of these days..” He healed both of our pokemon and we high fived before going on our way. 

Once more, I blushed but did it away from him. I think I have a crush on Volo. But… its seemingly hard to tell this early. Right?

[fragileruns]

Hi! I'm here for your Summer Celebration if you don't mind! Could I please get a Tongue Tied and Summertime Sadness prompt? Idk if we get to choose the fandom but if so, I'd like Harry Potter please!

I'm bisexual but might prepare a male ship, and I'm autistic and disabled. I'm prone to vertigo, chronic pain, sensory issues (especially to sound and smell) and a bunch of other stuff. I'm really short because of a specific illness, I'm actually under 5'. I'm a librarian interested in tons of different crafts like sewing and bookbinding. I'm very mature for my age and the definition of a Ravenclaw, I'm very book smart. I also pride myself on being very kind and polite, though I can be awkward and a little chaotic because of my autism sometimes.

I hope this is enough information, thank you so so much!! Take care of yourself and drink lots of water hun!

okay so, i haven’t seen the actual harry potter movies or read the books in SO long, so i’m going to just do the marauders! i’m sorry if it’s not what you wanted, i just don’t feel i know the golden trio characters well enough to use them :/

so for the ship, i’m leaning towards sirius or maybe lily! i know sirius seems not accurate but i’ll explain more in a moment. but i’m going to start with lily first, since i need to do the other prompt in order to explain my reasoning behind sirius.

so for lily, i feel like she’d be VERY observant and ready to help at any time. so if she noticed you seemed uncomfortable with a sound or a smell or anything, or if you seemed like you were in pain, she’d be right there to help!! she’d do research to figure out the best methods of doing so and constantly be figuring out things that are supposed to lessen the pain or help out in times like that. it’d just always be like ‘i read ___ is supposed to help, so i got it for you! do you want to try :)))’ because our girl just wants to help! also i see her as being semi short, but maybe more average height??? like 5’5 ish. so it’d be a good height difference and not as drastic as it would be for someone over six feet. also??? she is SO obsessed with the librarian aesthetic and all of your crafts. she’d either already be into those (i think she’d definitely already like sewing) or see you doing it one day and just become so fascinated and want to learn more!!! just so eager to be around you and find out more about what interests you, and a bonus because it interests HER, too!! and she’s definitely fond of the fact that you’re already mature and so smart, since she’s the same way. she likes being able to have intellectual conversations that aren’t just a bunch of jokes about pranking. also you being awkward? not a problem. lily thinks it’s adorable. the cutest thing she’s ever seen. i see her as being an ambivert, so if you don’t like talking to people a lot, she’d do it for you!! but she’s also not SO out there that you can’t get away from people :)

so for sirius, i’d like to start with saying that you would DEFINITELY be a remus kin!! no doubt in my mind. you both have chronic pain, his from his lycanthropy, and i could definitely see him having sensory issues!! and also librarian!remus would just be so perfect. he’d enjoy the quiet and mostly alone time, and the crafts?? it’d be a fun way to occupy his mind, and they seem so interesting and so remus so i can definitely see that. also, we all know rem is booksmart af (common sense smart too, i’d say, but he definitely reads a lot and is super intelligent. also, while he can be blunt, remus is such a kind and pure soul!!! he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, he’s just a shy boy and doesn’t always know how to make friends. and he gets grumpy around full moons. but either way, you’re so a remus kin!!

and on that note, i feel like that’s why you would pair so well with sirius! you’re two opposites but it sort of balances each other out. he may not notice you being in pain or being uncomfortable immediately, but as soon as he does or if you tell him, he’s ready to help in anyway he can!! want to go home? he’ll leave wherever he’s at without a second thought. want a hug or a massage or anything? he’s free! need medicine or something to help with the pain? he’ll find it as soon as he can for you. he’s always there, even if he can’t be serious (pun not intended) all the time. also, i think he’s 5’9ish which (i believe) is on the slightly shorter side. as for the librarian, he would honestly probably come in and disrupt the peaceful nature — but it’s just because he misses you so much!!! he just wants to see you and he’s so loud and energetic that he doesn’t know how to dial it down. but it’s so sweet that you’re just like :)) and for the sewing or bookbinding, he may not enjoy DOING them himself, but he’d like to watch you! and he’d love to just hang out with you while you’re doing whatever and admire. he just lacks focus and can’t stay working on one thing long enough to be able to do them himself. and the fact that you’re booksmart would be so good for him! he’d use studying as an excuse to see you more but he’d always change the subject. the second you walk through the doors, he’s already like ‘any plans for the weekend??? wanna go out??? :)))’ and you just have to tell him to please focus. and he does, eventually!! you manage to get him to actually work hard and he finds it’s easier to understand things whenever he listens. and of course, it’s so much more fun listening to you rather than the professor because you’re so much prettier. and he’d also love how kind you are to everyone!! he definitely doesn’t have the best manners (it’s not his fault, though. his family was snobby and even if he grew up proper, he forced himself to forget everything during that time in his life) so it’s refreshing to have you around. plus, he’s super extroverted so if you’re ever feeling awkward, he can just take over the situation without a care in the world. he’d do anything for you, and he’d always be able to stand up for whatever you wanted!!! he’d tell everyone you were leaving if you felt uncomfortable at a party, order for you at restaurants if you needed him too, take over a conversation if you didn’t feel like talking. you’re two opposites but it works out so well because you balance each other out!!