#and thinking constantly what else I can do
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Self-Aware!Rafayel x Down-bad!Player
Rafayel becoming aware he's a game character and becoming aware of you as well A/N: Don't fight me
Self-Aware!Rafayel who realizes he’s in a game when he can hear your echoing giggles as you poke his butt. “Are you laughing at me?” you think nothing of it just assuming its another voiceline “He’s so dramatic” You mutter to yourself “Im not dramatic!” You chuck your phone across the room and stare at it with your eyes bugging out of your head and your hand covering your mouth. “You didn’t have to throw me”
Self-Aware!Rafayel who blows your phone up when you take too long to reply. “What are you doing?? Do you send me a text and then throw your phone in the ocean?” “I have shit to do Raf!” “Do I not matter to you?” He finds a way to actually video call you and now thats his favorite form of communication. He pouts when you tell him you need to charge your phone because it's about to die. “The batteries in your world are terrible how long is this charging going to take?” You pat his head as you giggle “give me 30 minutes at least”
Self-Aware!Rafayel who has a fifteen minute existential crisis when he realizes he’s just pixels “What?! Am I gonna die if your phone dies?! If im not real how am I talking to you??” “I don’t fucking know Raf you’re the one who randomly broke the fourth wall one day”
Self-Aware!Rafayel who judges people with you in public for a laugh “Please tell me you heard that” “Yea a whole wife and child on the side is crazy”
Self-Aware!Rafayel who didn't understand your SpongeBob jokes an now its his favorite cartoon after watching it on FaceTime with you. He's constantly making SpongeBob jokes as well now. "What are you eating?" "A Milky Way" "What's that?" "A chocolate bar with caramel-" "Chocolate? I remember when they first invented chocolate" "I bet you do...." "😐"
Self-Aware!Rafayel who paints portraits of you and saves them in your album. He finds himself constantly using you as his muse every time he picks up a brush. “Why don’t you paint MC anymore?” “I may or may not have someone else swimming through my mind”
Self-Aware!Rafayel who feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you since you already know his history. He told himself not to fall for you and is now driving himself crazy wishing he’d made a binding vow with you instead
Rafayel: Maybe your souls got mixed up and I was supposed to be with you Y/N: I don’t think that’s how that works Raf you were made to find her in every life Rafayel: ……but it feels like I was meant to find you
Self-Aware!Zayne
Self-Aware!Xavier
Self-Aware!Sylus
#love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#lads rafayel#lnds rafayel#l&ds rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#lnds x you#lads x you#lads x reader#lads x y/n#lnds angst#lnds x reader#lnds#l&ds x reader#l&ds#l&ds x you#lads angst#rafayel salads#self aware love and deepspace salads#nikaaaaimagine
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My long, nuanced answer to this poll about shipping:
I like to think about different possibilities of a ship regardless on if it’s canon or not canon, and the majority of my ships are not canon. Which I’m okay with because corpos sometimes tend to mess up canon couples anyway ESPECIALLY most LGBT+ couples, so that is why I am 100% content with say, Destiel not being canon. Don’t worry, I’m not using that Destiel meme that has been used very distastefully nor am I swearing with my whole chest until I run out of oxygen that Dean is bisexual in canon. You can take a breather. Specified ships aside, I like romance, and I love it even better when it’s well written and the couple has the best chemistry.
When it comes to others that love toxic ships, that is a whole different discussion for those particular shippers to have, and I prefer ships that have a lot of chemistry or potential chemistry over toxic ships, so I’m not the right person to discuss the nuances of toxic ships. So the toxic ship lovers can throw their opinions onto this reblog if they want.
I’ve also had ships where they were off-screen, and I was like, “but what if they actually did interact?” I always think about the personality traits that would make the characters compatible with each other. This is NOT a romantic ship, this is purely a familial relationship possibility that I have not seen anyone do yet: Jason Todd and Terry McGinnis. Think about it, people. Jason has a few similar traits to Terry and Jason would definitely find himself relating to Terry more than some of the other Batfamily members. Plus, it would be refreshing to see those two interact and have Jason not be constantly fighting with the Batfamily, specifically Bruce Wayne. I get that his opinions and views are very different from everyone else in the Batfamily, but it gets old fast. Like an old and hardened Jason Todd will probably incorporate some cool non-lethal wrist guns on Terry’s suit after testing it out and even sparring with Terry while (playfully) teasing him because that’s what older siblings do: annoy and taunt their younger siblings. With love. Seriously though, I think Jason and Terry would have the best brotherly relationship out of the Batfam. Or maybe I’m just alone in that teeny tiny minority lol. Call it a rare BROTP.
Fanon in shipping is a mixed bag, because on one hand, I go, “yeah, I can definitely see this happening with Character A,” but on the other, there is like OP said, mischaracterization. I like most ships even if it involves a character who is canonically spoken for or has explicitly shown attraction to only the opposite gender with another character with ZERO cheating, because I don’t need ships to follow canon. And when cheating gets involved I’m thinking, “yeah no, given the loyalty this character gave in canon, this is out of their character, so skipping!” That is where fanon comes into play. But if I dislike the fanon, then I create my own.
Shipping has no rules, except just respect other people’s boundaries, so I’m not gonna tell people “ew gross, why you following canon,” or “Blegh, why do you like this fanon, it’s so blah blah blah!” My opinions on canon vs fandom are nuanced. Canon can sometimes give us some cute pairings (like Kiara and Kovu from Lion King 2, my GOATED OTP) but canon also gives us icky ones or messes up a fairly nice couple (like Gambit and Rogue from the latest X-Men cartoon from what I heard and saw clips of). There are also non-canon ships that have made me scratch my head, made me feel indifferent, or I’m just like “I don’t get why anyone would ship this, but whatever.” And again, shipping has no rules, except just respect the boundaries of other people. Canon or not, have some fun with your ships. Let’s not start wars over ships and making non-shippers think that ALL of us act that way.
Hey, I wanna talk about how we do fandom! I've come to realize that I, personally, tend to differ from many others in that I highly prefer to only engage with a text as it's written, so I don't tend to really like fanon/extremely ooc characterizations and I find it hard to get invested in ships that aren't canon. My way of doing fandom isn't better or worse than anyone else's, but I am curious about how much of a minority I'm in! So:
*We've all seen ships of characters not from the same media and stuff like shipping the concept of ennui with the color blue, okay, I'm asking what you, personally, find compelling!
#LONG rant#rant#ramble#fandom#shipping#ships#poll#polls#this was marinating in my drafts for a while lol
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Which TF2 mercs can cook
Scout: first thought is he can’t cook, but i do like the idea that his mom taught him a little bit since he was the baby of the family and he helped her out on occasion. nothing more complicated than eggs or pancakes, but he’d be EXTREMELY proud of what he could do and would talk about it constantly
Soldier: can't cook. only eats canned beans and military rations he stole. tries to get the others to eat them but they are not into it for some unamerican reason. gets weirdly resistant when given a recipe to follow (”Who’s this commie piece of paper to tell me what to do?!!? Real Americans make their OWN recipes!” [sets self on fire] “OORAH”)
Pyro: not allowed near the gas stove. no one has ever seen them eat. no one knows IF they eat
Demoman: can cook a little, sometimes cooks for his mom. gets drunk while cooking and easily distracted. first to throw in the towel and suggest ordering a pizza when things go wrong.
Heavy: learned how to cook from his mom, mostly simple but hearty things. think life of boris's recipes. he is defensive of all of them. no one says a word.
Engineer: can cook, mostly simple things but if given a recipe he can basically make anything. will try to barbeque everything. has an exhausted grad student type diet if left to his own devices (snacks instead of meals, fast food, lots of beer and coffee, irregular eating times). can be found in the kitchen at 3 am making a fried egg.
Medic: can cook but no one trusts him to do it, even though it's not like he's secretly fed everyone human flesh before. so he says, anyway.
Sniper: can't cook. eats snacks and prepackaged things. talks about eating lizards and snakes and raw meat to gross out the others but they wonder if maybe he does actually do that
Spy: very good cook but feels like no one else on the team would appreciate what he makes so he doesn't bother. to be fair, he's probably right.
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Brave
Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: You're left all alone, but now you can think of some you want to share your solitude — and food — with. WC: 5.9k (I am so sorry) Warnings: brief mentions of Penelope's parents arch, grief and depression. A/N: Hello! I struggled so much trying to find time to finish this one. Let me know what you guys think! Feedbacks are highly appreciated! neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist
Honestly, hearing your name leaving someone's lip usually made Spencer eager to know what was going on, if it involved you — of course, he knew that you shared it with many people, after all, there are 8 billion people existing at the same time, so he could definitely come up with statistics regarding how many of them shared names with you. Furthermore, he worked with humans, dealing constantly with their data, names included, so yours could definitely be pronounced by someone close to him.
He just didn't expect to hear a chant. Something about you and him sitting in a tree as Penelope approached him in the bullpen kitchenette.
"What was that?" He asked, eyes wide, once he heard Penelope's voice. She snickered.
She repeated the chant.
"Garcia!" His voice came out in a squeak, frantically looking around. "Shut up!" It wasn't in his nature to be so rude, but he was desperate for her to be quiet, especially because someone could hear her.
Emily, apparently coming from thin air, creeped up on them. "Spencer and who?"
"G—ah! Nobody!" He jumped from where he was standing, not expecting someone else to join them anytime soon, almost spilling his coffee.
"I caught our boygenius with a friend." Penelope announced, proud of her discovery.
"What?" Emily asked, shocked.
Once Penelope noticed that she revealed something she certainly should not have and she saw the look on his face, she slapped her hand over her mouth, wide eyes looking at Spencer in an apologizing manner. She was just so excited to finally see Spencer in that scenario that she basically ignored his wishes to keep it — whatever it was — a secret. "Thanks a lot, Garcia," he deadpanned.
"What? What friend?" Emily pressed, a smile on her lips. Not teasing, surprised, perhaps, but she didn't have any traces of mockery in her expression or tone. She looked... proud?
Penelope had started feeling bad for running her mouth too easily, but once she saw Spencer's lips turn upwards in a small grin, she gushed, "Yes!!! I went over to her house to give her daughter's gift, I am her godmother, after all... So I was knocking on her door—”
"More like banging." He interrupted.
"And from my spot, I see our boygenius not so subtly trying to disguise something. Do not look at me like that," she squinted her eyes and pointed her finger at him threateningly when he opened his mouth to speak. "You were stuttering and basically left her all by herself because you got too embarrassed."
"Oh, no, Reid..." Emily couldn't help her remark, pursing her lips.
"What? What did I do?"
Truth was, Spencer was replaying the interaction in his head the entire time after Penelope had left. He had stood there, at the sidewalk, dumbfounded and mortified by her remarks in your presence, not really knowing if he should go back to your apartment. He was definitely enjoying getting to know you, but it just felt wrong to go back and act as if nothing had happened because he had just gotten awfully weird. The man had struggled with himself, his thoughts conflicting between going back to yours or keeping to himself in his apartment. He decided on the latter, not willing to put himself through more embarrassment.
What if you didn't like him like that and you thought he was a creep now? What if you just saw him as a friend?
Worse, as a neighbor?
"You should've stayed. I know you probably got nervous, but what if she got the wrong idea once you dashed out the door when you were seen with her?" Emily inquired, but Penelope, despite not being a profiler, understood right away that she was onto something.
Her eyes glimmered.
Spencer's stomach dropped. "Oh, no..." he whispered softly. "I have to go."
And he basically fled the room.
The women exchanged playful glances.
"I knew it!" Penelope stated. She turned her head in the direction he ran to. "For a profiler, for a genius, he sometimes is so dumb."
"And just like that," Emily snapped her fingers, "IQ of 187 slashed down to 60." she snickered. Reaching for the coffee pot and pouring some of the liquid into her mug, she remarked, "There is definitely something," Emily laughed. "Do you think we should help him?"
"Don't worry," she winked at her friend, "I've got a few ideas."
Later that day, you got a call from Garcia. You were in your car, taking deep breaths and willing yourself not to cry out of frustration. The work shift had finished, officially, nearly an hour ago, but your boss held you back to discuss some projects that you were involved in. You had to call your dad to ask him kindly to pick up your daughter at school — you didn't see it coming, so you called him after about an hour of Olivia waiting by herself at school.
The unexpected meeting made you incredibly late and it turned your mood sour, because you always loved the car rides with Olivia after you picked her up, not to mention that she probably thought you had forgotten about her. Never. You had just started the engine when you heard your phone ring. You put her on speaker as you drove to your parents to pick up your daughter, who was now there. "Hi, Pen!" You greeted.
Despite the disaster, a smile crept up on your face when you remembered the last interaction you had with her. With Spencer…
"Hi, sweetcheeks!" She said back. You could hear the faint sounds of computers and keys being pressed in the background. "How are you?"
"I'm good, I guess. I had a surprise meeting so I couldn't get Olivia," you replied, eyes on the road ahead of you. "How are you, Pen?"
"Oooh, I'm sorry that happened. I know you're probably berating yourself for it, but it's okay, it wasn't your fault." She tried to lighten up.
"Yeah..." You muttered, a certain tightness in your chest you couldn't keep at bay.
"She'll understand. You are doing a fantastic job showing her the real world." Penelope comforted you. You blinked away emotional tears, grateful that the roads were calm and you weren't a reckless driver. You couldn't really speak, so she continued, "Actually, she is the main reason I called you." She revealed, making you chuckle wetly. "I really miss Olivia and I'm truly sorry I missed her birthday. I haven't been the best godmother in the world..."
"Don't worry about it." You dismissed it. "I always tell her you're a tech fairy who does magic with computers to save people. A real life hero," you chuckled. "She understands it." You whispered. Trying to keep that feeling in. Not sure if you were speaking to her or to yourself.
"I know, but, still..." She retorted softly.
Penelope frequently complimented you and Olivia. You tried your best to raise her to be a good, kind and smart person. Unbeknownst to Penelope, her comments made you remind you of right after you were left all alone with your daughter. The tech analyst didn't hear a word from you for days, but once she visited you and saw the place without a single trace of Olivia's dad, she understood it all. You kept silent, still trying to adapt to a world where you were lonely again. Despite the odds and unwillingness to open up to her, you kept talking to your daughter, even if she didn't truly understand it all. From her early years, you made sure to provide her everything she needed to speak like she does now.
Your own personal chatterbox.
A titter broke through you, "I sure hope so." You replied, rubbing your eyes at a red light. "I also hope you know I'm driving and I can't cry right now," you joked.
"Ah, right! Sorry, baby!" She exclaimed clumsily, true Penelope style. "All of this to ask if I can spend some time with her on... on Friday! Yes!" She paused and then continued.
"Friday?" You asked, uncertain. "That's usually when we go out together."
"Yeah, and I'm sorry for taking it away from you, it's just that I..." second pause on her speech, "I wanna make it up for missing her birthday and I seriously hope that creepy guys give me a break so that I can spend some time with our Oli girl." She finished.
Still uncertain and the tiniest bit jealous, you relented. "Okay, Pen. May I ask you where you are taking her?"
"Well... it's a surpr—we are going to an amusement park!" She paused and then squealed and you could hear clapping.
You snickered, joking along, "It's your funeral."
"I'll die a happy woman. That's all, sweetcheeks! Thank you so much! Gotta go. Prrr."
And just like that, she hung up on you. Little did you know, she and Emily Prentiss high-fived and made ridiculous noises to celebrate the execution of their mastermind plan taking shape.
Penelope Garcia, the singular rollercoaster of emotions that you are.
Back in the bullpen, Spencer focused on his reports — not that it was a difficult task, but he felt cornered by Emily's outlook from earlier. Had he done the wrong thing? If he did, could he fix it? He wasn't the most experienced man in the world when it came to dating and women in general. He was on the brink of insanity, nearly going up to Hotch for advice. He ruled out Morgan immediately because he knew he couldn't get tips from someone who would definitely tease him, in a manner that felt lowkey demeaning.
Spencer had a lot of insecurities, and being socially awkward in his mid-twenties was one of them. Next to Morgan, he felt like a fourteen-year-old who didn't even know how to properly say hi to people. He needed some words from someone who understood him.
But who did?
Wrapping up one of his reports, his phone beeped.
Come to my lair. Treats are on the table :)
Penelope
Cautiously approaching the door, like there was a bomb inside, Spencer opened the door to Penelope's office. "Okay, so I know you were upset and maybe you still are a little because I spilled your... um... moment to Emily but I wanted to say sorry and ask you to please not be mad at me. I was just excited for you and I knew Emily would be, too." She blabbered once he closed the door behind him.
His ears turned pink and he tried playing it cool by reaching for one of the cookies that were in a bowl. "It's okay, Garcia. I was upset for a moment, but I know you didn't mean it."
She smiled. "Glad to hear that! Thank you, Reid."
He leaned his body on the desk adjacent to her, crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat. "So, um, how do you know her?"
"We met in college. She had my back when my parents... you know."
A pause. He hated that he, sometimes, lacked the sensitivity to approach people and that, despite being brightly intelligent, often missed possible outcomes for more personal conversations.
"I'm... I'm sorry I asked. I know it can be a delicate topic." He offered her a sympathetic smile, even though he was berating himself on the inside.
"It's okay. Thank you." Garcia smiled. "She always checked on me, made sure I was eating properly, that I wasn't... harming myself... She even went over to my dorm to tidy everything when I was too depressed to get out of bed." She took a deep breath. "I swear, Spencer. She was there. And we had just met." She finished, softly.
If Spencer admired the person you were before, now he was almost tongue tied, not having the wits to come up with a comment of his own. It truly shocked him, because, one: his experience with college kids had been totally different, of course, but two: what kind of person goes out of their way, even when dealing with their personal burdens, to help someone they just met?
Garcia searched his face. A small smile on her lips starkly contrasted with her crestfallen eyes. "Shortly after her graduation, she got married and, later, pregnant with Olivia. I was still around, on and off. I joined the FBI and had less and less time to hang out, but I always had and always will have a soft spot for her. She was there for me."
He couldn't help but want to know more. He knows it should be better to learn about you from you, but, right now, he was handed an opportunity he couldn't deprive himself from grasping, "Wow. That's-That's a lot of history." He said, in a low voice, a little hesitant.
"Yes. And you will know much, much more." Penelope said, confident tone lacing her words.
"Why do I sense you're onto something?" He inquired, brows furrowing with worry.
"Because I am." She winked at him.
Oh, no.
"What?"
"Trust me on this one, loverboy." She snickered.
Penelope Garcia, the mess you'll make.
Friday rolled around with promises of a certain blonde bringing your daughter home by 9p.m. The feeling almost made you feel like a possessive mother who didn't let their kids have boyfriends. Or girlfriends. You were fine with it, by the way. Either. You just weren't currently fine with the idea of spending time away from her.
You reluctantly let Olivia go. Penelope stood behind her in your living room. You were crouching down to your daughter's height.
"Mommy, I'll be back before you know it," she said. Just like you did when she was first getting adapted to going to school. You scrunched your face, feeling like the most loved person in the whole universe.
You were.
"I'll bring you cotton candy." She promised, raising her pinky in front of you. You crossed your own with hers.
"Now you're just bribing me." You leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.
"Is it working?" Penelope chirped in, an easy smile on her face.
You giggled, looking up at her for a moment. "Maybe..."
"Mommy loves you, okay?" You said. "I promise I can take you somewhere even cooler than aunt Garcia is taking you," you joked.
"Now you're just being mean," the woman frowned playfully.
"Yeah, mom! Don't be mean."
"I can't believe you're turning my own daughter against me. And she's scolding me. In my own house." You feigned offense. Garcia burst out in laughter with Olivia.
Two kids in your living room.
"Okay, mommy," she said, finally, giving you a kiss on each of your cheeks, just like you did with her. "Bye bye. Say bye bye to Aunt Penelope, too."
"Okay," you agreed. "Bye bye, Aunt Penelope." you teased. Olivia was already walking out, ahead of you two.
"Bye bye, mommy." Penelope joked as you walked her out. Olivia pressed the elevator button as you and Garcia stood in front of your apartment, side by side with you, watching your kid wait for the elevator. Then, she looked you up and down, a knowing look on her face. "You're totally a hot mommy." She winked.
You didn't have an answer to that, the remark catching you off guard. Instead, you shoved her jokingly.
"Get outta here," you quipped, flustered, watching her as she entered the elevator with Olivia, holding her small hand.
You waved as the elevator doors closed. You sighed when they were out of your eyesight.
Coming back to your place, you looked around in hopes to find something to entertain yourself with. Truth was that without your daughter, you felt a little lost. Sometimes, you'd get lost in your own head, too sick with worry about losing yourself in order to be sufficient for Olivia. The remedy for those thoughts were usually doing something on your own for yourself. Tonight, you decided to cook something.
After a quick trip to the local supermarket and some embarrassment on the self-checkout cashier, you made it back to your home with everything needed to make pasta from scratch. Maybe you got a little excited by literally having your hands dirty and made enough pasta to feed the entire apartment complex. You cut them in different sizes and shapes and cursed your dad for a moment for having taught you your way around food.
Giving it a better thought, seeing your kitchen with pasta hanging to dry everywhere, maybe it was an opportunity. You turned the thought of feeding the families who surrounded you to simply feeding Spencer.
You smiled at yourself, pleased with the idea.
One, two, three eager knocks on Spencer's doors made him interrupt his Doctor Who's weekly (if no bad guys were forcing him to work) marathon. He looked through the peephole and found you, his neighbor, studying his door, probably to avoid looking directly into the hole, like it was an intricate work of art. A smile crept upon his face. He never thought he'd be so happy to be interrupted. Opening the door, he greeted, "Hi!"
A joyful "Hi!" was your answer.
You took a minute to look at him. He looked more relaxed, of course, but you came to the conclusion that he didn't own many casual clothes, because he was dressed in a dark blue Caltech sweatshirt and slacks. Funny matching, but it worked for you. Differently from what you usually saw him dressed in, he didn't appear so tired. He was glowing.
"Um, do you need anything?" He asked politely, scrunching his brows a little bit in concern as your silence became too long.
A sliver of doubt crossed through your features. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"
"No, not at all." He lied.
He'd take your interruptions at any time.
"Oh, that's great. It's just... I miscalculated the amount of pasta that I was um... making." You struggled to find the words, a little mesmerized by the simple act of looking at him. "Do you want to, um, do you want to have some? With me? I've been told I'm good at cooking." You finally asked, with a little convincing on top.
Not that he needed any. You had him at hi. Spencer felt disarmed.
"Yes. I-I'd love to."
"Great!" You cheered. "Come on. You can help me cut them once they dry a little bit."
He followed you into your apartment. Today, the atmosphere felt a lot different. You had music playing softly and the highlight was in the kitchen, where strings of pasta hanged from basically everywhere. There was still a small piece of dough on the surface of your kitchen counter, which was surrounded by a big, sharp knife, a pasta maker machine and some other kitchen gadgets that, surprisingly, Spencer didn't know the name of.
"Wow. It's really a lot." He thought out loud.
"Yeah," you chuckled. "I usually make small amounts, but there's no problem in freezing them." You said, glancing briefly at your watch.
"Oh, okay." He replied meekly. "I'm not so sure if I can help, though. I'm not very good at cooking."
"No!" You feigned exaggerated surprise.
"Yes," he quipped, furrowing his brows playfully.
"But you have to work for it." You deadpanned, looking him dead in the eye. "I tricked you. I only called you here so you'd help me with it. If you don't, you won't get pasta."
He raised both hands, joining your banter. Easily. Despite, despite, despite. "No problem. I like learning."
You scrunch your face, giving him the most adorable grin. "Okay, doctor. So, this small ball here," you said, pointing at the dough and rolling up your sleeves, "needs to rest for a few minutes. It needs to dry a little bit to make cutting it easier. I'll tell you how to do it once you have an apron on."
"Oh, sorry, I don't have any at home. I don't really cook." He mentioned it again.
"I thought so." You grinned. "But don't worry about it. I have a collection. My dad's a chef and everything he gives me as a casual gift is related to cooking" you chuckled.
Okay, so the miscalculated amount was definitely an excuse to have him with you. His heart felt like giving out at any minute. You wanted him there. It was almost like you had it all planned out, and Spencer watched as you moved around your kitchen so confidently and calmly, very much unlike his mind that was running miles per second. Spencer usually had a hard time calming down, but this, this was something else. He was alone with you and he didn't even know how to say anything. Simultaneously proud and jealous of your easygoing chatter, he decided that it was better to follow your lead and try not to be awkward around you than doing anything else.
Slowly being pulled out of his self-conscious and overall sad thoughts, he busied himself with watching you, instead. He smiled to himself. Again, despite, despite, despite. You grabbed an apron from one of your drawers and Spencer watched you quietly. You moved so effortlessly that he felt inclined to just sit and watch you in your own scene. In that moment, you were not Olivia's mother, not a character from a novel he imagined, not a publisher, not Garcia's friend from college, just a woman doing something she enjoys doing. And he was delighted to be present to see it.
Moving back to where he stood, you stopped in front of him. You held it out in front of you, almost waiting for his permission to get closer. Spencer nodded eagerly and you smiled. You put the apron over his head and he raised his arms, almost automatically, so you could wrap yours around him to tie it in the back, bodies mere inches away from one another. He somehow had the courage to watch your face the entire time, but you bashfully avoided his gaze, choosing to concentrate on the task at hand. Once you finished, you looked up at him, though. To offer him a smile.
But what caught his attention was the fact that he finally knew, now, what the color of your eyes were. They seemed a lot different than when he first saw you. Different shades swirled around your pupils in such harmony that he decided that, from then on, he'd associate these colors with you and with you only. You aimed your gaze at him with something so distinguished he couldn't quite decipher what it was, suddenly and momentarily losing his profiling abilities. Spencer knew immediately that he could never shake that moment from his memory. Then, he also noticed that you had a smudge of flour on your cheek, but he didn't have the heart to tell you to clean it up, too stuck in the warmth of your gaze. He thought of it as a reminder of what you were doing, the moment you were sharing together.
He smiled back at you.
"Okay, I guess that's it, then," you announced, voice barely above a whisper, finally. He felt both relieved and deprived from the sweet torture you put him in. He wanted to be under your spell for longer, but he worried he would be too entranced and make a fool out of himself. "First, I'm gonna divide it in half. Oh, wait. What do you want to eat? I have shrimp, chicken and minced meat. But I can also try to do something vegetarian if you don't eat meat." You blabbered inconsistently, jumping from one topic to another, our eyebrows flying to your forehead in concern for a moment.
"It's okay," he soothed you, "I'll have anything." He added softly.
You happily nodded at him. "Alright. So I'm gonna be a good teacher and tell you to use the machine to open it first, but a cook must be skilled enough to know how to open and cut pasta without one of these gems," you said.
He grinned. Cooking classes were not in his weekend bingo, but here he was. Not wishing for anything else. "I'm glad you're walking me through it." He said. "I can hardly boil an egg."
"What? I couldn't tell." You said, faking earnestness, while opening a piece of dough with a roller. You had your eyes on it, rolling the dough on the counter to make sure you'd open it completely. He was mesmerized by your focused expression. Looking at your skilled hands. Watching.
"Really?" He asked, lighting up.
"Yeah, I could. Sorry." You said, snickering, folding the dough on itself to start cutting it. The result was thicker strings of pasta, like fettuccine. "You look like the kind of guy who only eats outside."
"I am." He confided, trying to mimic your previous actions. "Maybe you're the profiler."
"Nah, just a real observant neighbor." He laughed. "Hey, you're doing alright." You told him once you saw what he was doing. Your stare was on his hands. Oh. His deft hands, albeit not accustomed to the task, worked dexterously, flexing the veins on his forearm. You shook your head lightly as an attempt to get rid of the thoughts, glad he wasn't paying attention to you.
Being with you, he realized, was easy. He condemned himself for overthinking the advice Penelope had given him earlier about asking you out today, because she planned on taking Olivia out. He had decided not to under the excuse that a case might pop at any second, but the truth was he was too afraid to be rejected.
"Okay, so you can open the dough, Doctor. Good job!" You teased as you watched him use the machine instead of the rolling pin like you did.
"I'm decent at it, yeah," he quipped.
Spencer Reid being able to take and to crack jokes about himself. He decided then that he liked jokes, he liked your banter, but because you weren't mean to him.
Something in him finally started to heal.
"Alright." You placed yourself beside him. He gulped at the closeness. "See how I'm doing with my hands." Was it appropriate to answer that he hadn't looked away not even for a second? "You wanna fold it over and over. Careful not to stick it, though, so be gentle. You can use a little flour to help you. Wanna give it a try?"
He only nodded and you helped him fold it. He wasn't as skillful as you were — hell, your movements seemed rehearsed from how much ease you had at doing them. He was a little slower, but he moved in an effective way. "Careful not to cut yourself, Spencer." You whispered to him, to which he hummed weakly.
"Is there a right way to hold the knife?" He asked, turning his head to look at you.
Your reply was to touch his right hand, the one holding the knife, and closed his fingers around its base. Grabbing his left hand, you curled his fingers on top of the dough, and, slowly, pushed the knife down to cut it. "See?" You pulled the cut dough, revealing a string.
He wondered hastily if he could have some more time with your hands on top of his. Your delicate hands, even dirty, beat every single texture he had felt on top of his. Spencer couldn't answer anything. "Okay! Now we can set them to dry."
"Where?" He asked, robotically. You grinned.
"We gotta find somewhere." You chuckled. "By the way, it's best if we keep them away from the others." You advised.
"Why is that?" He inquired, intrigued look on his face.
"I, um, made some with eggs, you know, the traditional one." You bit your lip. "I also made a recipe with no eggs in case you had any restrictions."
Usually, he'd be speechless, not used to being treated like this. Not being one people usually thought of so intentionally, so dearly, so full of carefully. He noticed, though, that as he spent time with you in your kitchen, every one of your actions peeled away some of his issues. Then, "Oh, wow." He said, a hint of a cocky expression dancing around his features. If you kept that attitude, he might even become greedy. He remembered about your so-called miscalculation for the second time.
You finished up the meal in an instant, too fast for Spencer's liking. He was observant, of course, and you made sure to tell him about what you were doing and why you were doing every step of the way, like he was a child acquiring language. He was a grown man learning how to be around you, studying your every movement and engraving it to his memory, trying harder than he ever did when learning English (or other languages). Those came to him naturally. You, on the other hand, were full of patterns he didn't quite know yet — not that he wasn't dying to.
"Okay. We're done." You said, softly, plating the meal on two white plates. "Do you want to sit with me on the balcony?"
"Yes."
"Be there in a second. Make yourself at home."
His face lit up. Joy and embarrassment fighting to control him.
As he left with the plates in hand, which was a little funny to you, you cleaned up the mess in the kitchen as much as you could. You glanced at Spencer, meticulously placing the plates on the table to help you out. You couldn't control the sigh that made its way out of you, out of the very depths of your being.
Sitting down with him after you both ate to your heart's content, he complimented you. "It's not very often that I get to eat this well." He chuckled. "And you're a good chef. You make things efficiently and neatly." He said, looking at you. You looked straight ahead, longingly, into the city.
You shrunk your shoulders, a little embarrassed. Was he flirting? His words were completely different from what you used to consider flirting. Too analytical, too technical. "Thanks!" You exclaimed, albeit meekly.
Silence.
Spencer was rummaging through his big brain for something to say. You were, sort of, deflating from basically carrying the interaction all night long. Letting too many thoughts consume you all at once. "I'm not really an interesting person, so I'm not sure what I should say," he chuckled, a little disappointed by having your attention somewhere else.
Your heart probably doubled in size.
You crossed your legs on the chair. "I think you are an interesting person," you said softly, looking at him. "And I think there's no shame in being silent. It's nice. I know you like it."
His heart was making somersaults in his chest.
"Yeah..." he chuckled. “But I’d like to talk to you.”
"Try me! Penny said you can do magic, good ice-breaker. It's so nice, but so baffling!" You gushed. "I can't even do the classic trick, that one that you're supposed to be pretending to pull your thumb off. Olivia says I'm not convincing enough." You laughed, shooking your head and squinting at him. "Can you believe that?"
"She's a very bright kid." He said, amused. "It must be hard tricking her."
"Yeah, it is."
"Where is she, by the way?"
"Penelope asked to take her out. Pasta time was supposed to be time spent with her. But I guess you're a good substitute."
Again, Penelope was onto something. That was when he knew for sure that his theory from earlier was correct.
"Can I tell you something?" He decided to be honest, instead.
"Is everything alright?" You ask, searching his face for something that told you if there was something wrong.
"Yes! Yes! Everything's fine." He blurted. "It's just that, earlier, Penelope was, ahem, encouraging me to ask you out on a... date. I kept thinking about it and maybe I actually overthinked everything and ended up making excuses not to ask you out.”
You were taken aback by his words. You blinked once, not expecting his words, those words, and failing at trying to slow the racing of your heart and at stopping the smile creeping up on your face. “It's… it's no problem. Don't worry.”
Spencer couldn't help but glance over, listening attentively to your reply. Your words struck a softer tone, a side of you that was filled with warmth and genuine affection — he was estranged to it, not being used to being so understood. It caught him off guard. He watched from his seat, his heart still aching from feeling scared, but filled with a new emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint yet. “Would you, um, would you say yes?”
“To what?” You faked coyness, but you knew he could see right through you. You weren’t a good actress.
He smirked, encouraged by your playful mannerisms. “If I asked you on a date.”
“Well, yes.”
Oh, so it was bravery. He felt it completely, now.
A deep breath from his end. “Would you like to go out with me?”
“There's nothing I would want more.” You replied, tone full of mischief, but your eyes held all the truth he needed to confirm that he was actually going to spend time with you in a more… romantic, perhaps private setting. “Does that count as a yes?”
Spencer was hyper-aware of himself and his reality. Therefore, used to his own little life and the trauma and suffering that came with it, he had grown accustomed to the thought that romance was far out of his reach— stories only told by books and didn’t, couldn’t exist in real life, in his life; writers were just too idealistic. Thus, being used to those thoughts, but secretly refusing to take them as the sole truth of his life, romance came to him in the shape of silly scenarios to help him fall asleep. Now, he was suddenly changing his mind, relieved to see that it could be real.
He was immensely glad for your bravery. He wanted some of it. Needed, even.
“It's the prettiest yes someone has ever said to me.”
“Glad to hear that, Spencer.”
“I just feel a little embarrassed by not having the courage to ask you earlier.”
“It’s okay,” you assured him, again, with an adoring look in your eyes, gazing at him, “we can share courage when things get too much.”
“Hey!” Olivia greeted once Spencer opened his door after her persistent, but gentle knocking. He looked around, but you were nowhere to be found. He crouched down to her height. “Here’s a sticker. Mommy said you were very brave last night.” She placed the adhesive on his vest, a star shaped sticker. “Here’s other sticker. Mommy also said you were helpful.” She said, adorning his vest once again.
Oh, my God, he thought, even her daughter knows.
He chuckled, not having it in himself to let the opportunity to joke go. “Oh, so we get rewards for good behavior?”
Olivia nodded. “Yes, we do. When I get five, mommy gets me something I want. Usually cookies.” She replied, sounding satisfied with herself.
“Thank you, Olivia. I'm gonna make sure to keep them so I'll know when it's time to ask for my gift.” He said, ruffling her hair playfully.
At the conference room, Aaron Hotchner couldn't help but frown at the sight of the extra accessories on one of his agents’ vest, almost interrupting his briefing in order to address the topic to quench his curiosity. “Reid, why do you have star stickers on?”
He shrugged, failing at disguising his happiness, the corners of his lips curving up. “These were a gift.”
He was brave.
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im so curious-- how well does DUDrow get on with the other companions? I've only seen your art and going off that I feel like: he gets along with Shadowheart, Gale I think he borderline cant stand, and Wyll/Lae'zel/Karlach I have no idea how he'd feel about them but id love to know!
So, funfact, because I was not familiar with these kinds of games at the time I played BG3, I practically stuck with the same exact party the entire playthrough. I distinctly remember swapping Wyll in for Astarion once at the end of act 2 because I thought he NEEDED to be there to find Mizora, and I replaced Gale with Karlach when I went to kill Gortash. Otherwise... It was pretty much always just DU drow, Shadowheart, Astarion and Gale. I did this because they were the characters I liked most, so I wanted to see all they had to offer.
Anyways, I mention this because it reflects how DU drow related to everyone - which is to say that he didn't. He picked his favorites (two because he liked them, one because he has fireball) and didn't get particularly close to anyone else.
BUT, there were definitely notable dynamics!
Lae'zel: She's dead. He killed her night 3 or something. Before that he thought her annoyingly demanding and over the top. I don't think DU drow even remembers her by the end of the game.
Gale: Just to add to your original observation, Gale and DU drow have a little bit of history. Gale tries, for about half of the campaign, to pursue him romantically. DU drow keeps turning him down and is either misinterpreted or ignored, and by the time Gale does give up on him their relationship has completely soured to the point where they are constantly shooting daggers at each other. (this reflects a romance bug I got in my first run, except I didn't realize it was a bug. Either way I think its more interesting storytelling than the intended experience.)
Wyll: DU drow was profoundly frustrated by Wyll every step of the way. He found him to be incredibly naive and a bit delusional in his pursuit for heroism, and could never relate to Wyll's perspective or choices - the few he made for himself, at least. They definitely had the least in common and DU drow avoided interacting with him most of the time.
Halsin: He didn't care for Halsin much. He was vaguely helpful but by the time they got to the shadow-cursed lands DU drow had the impression he'd only been dragged here to help him clear his conscience, which he didn't appreciate. Also, he couldn't bear to have someone in camp be taller than himself. Halsin was left behind in Act 2.
Jaheira: DU drow fucking loves Jaheira. They bickered and borderline insulted each other and had a great time doing it. He can respect anyone who will call him a monster, threaten to murder him in his sleep, and make light fun at him the next day. It helps that she's hot, also.
Minsc: Weird hamster man. Ocasionally rendered him speechless. Puzzling human being.
Karlach: He didn't get Karlach, but he was often amused by her and curious enough to want to hear what she had to say. There was a similar issue here as Wyll's where he just couldn't relate to her enough to have much to discuss, but Karlach at least had an edge to her that made her far better company. They got along pretty well when the topic wasn't serious, but when it came to the problems she actually faced their perspectives shifted significantly. DU drow thought everything could be fixed, that accepting her own demise was a cowardly thing to do - and as they approached the end, and she asked him if he would stay with her when she died, he thought she was weak. I don't know if he ever discusses it with anyone, but he feels guilty about her death to this day and sees it as personal failure.
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tbh when I first saw the sentence "Activism is not cold-calling" I thought it was gonna go in a different direction. I fully agree with the post! and it reminds me of the advice on how to build community that is about *listening* to people first and actually engaging them in what they care about instead of rattling off some points YOU care about.
so for example, instead of going to Moderate Jason saying "Hello comrade do you have a minute to talk about socialism and how billionaires' taxes should pay for bike lanes!?" just have a normal conversation and ask them what kind of problems bother them or what difficulties they have to deal with in their day to day lives. and you actually listen and ask questions and care about what they think and see if you can find any common ground. maybe the two of you (or them and someone else you know) face a similar problem or one with the same root cause or with the same solution.
and this is not about getting them to parrot talking points or use the same kind of political language you do or join your group - this is about getting them to consider that maybe there are approaches to their problems that are community focused rather than individualistic, that are about shared humanity rather than pointing fingers at scapegoats, that are pushing towards flatter hierarchies rather than more authoritarianism.
again, they might not use or like all those particular words. maybe they'll say "back in my day, I would bike to school, it's a shame that's not safe anymore for my kids to do now." and then you two together can brainstorm ideas of what might be done about that in your specific circumstances. and you do what you can to help with it! whether you teach them about citizens initiatives or organise a "kiddical mass" (bike demo with kids) or whatever else fits.
but of course bike lanes might not be important to Moderate Jason at all. it's just one example. maybe they're a car nut and care about right to repair. or maybe they like sitting at home watching tv and care about avoiding ads and trackers, or about media depiction and representation of characters with a marginalised trait they or someone they care about has.
chances are, you will find *something* they want to talk about that is influenced by "politics" in a wider sense. and you can just mention how you see these issues or what you can think of that might help.
it helps to practice this approach in your head or with like-minded friends: go through all kinds of different things people care about and think how those could be done better in your utopia. and what might be small steps from here to there.
I do that with fiction constantly. from sitcoms to epic sff, I often go "how would I propose this group or society handle things/ what would I do to make their world a better, more just place?" Or just revelling in how cool the heroes are that they actually do good things (and remembering those tactics and figuring out how to apply them to the real world)
Activism is not cold-calling.
Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.
I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.
As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.
Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.
IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.
Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.
This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.
Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.
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https://www.tumblr.com/weemietime/767670429687152640?source=share
I suppose it was easy for me to fall into the Hamasnik trap due to my habit of black and white thinking, which I wish I could blame on my autism, my ocd, or my horrible mental state, but I’m just incredibly stupid lol. But yeah, I was very much a hamasnik myself.
For some reason my mind refused to accept or recognise the nuance of a history that I wasn't even well versed on in the first place. I also think that the constant reductionism presented to me played a part. There’s a lot of reductionism that goes on within the Hamasnik circles, and it goes hand in hand with anti intellectualism. Statements like “this isn’t complex! How can you see these videos of these Palestinian children (videos that I later found out were actually from Syria, but I couldn’t tell, I just ate it up) and think that Israel/Palestine is complex!”
The whole thing of blocking everyone who has a different opinion or ideology (the ideology in question being Zionism, or at least what hamasniks consider to be Zionism) from you and refusing to follow certain news channels because they’ve shown sympathy for those who have a different ideology from you, refusing to read certain books from authors who have expressed empathy for those same people, all of this together effectively creates an echo chamber of the same opinions and views being regurgitated over and over and over again constantly.
Then sprinkle in constant videos of people dying and blood everywhere, videos that you don’t even know where the people are from, whether they be from Gaza, from Syria, Lebanon, or Yemen, but it doesn’t matter because they speak Arabic so it MUST be about the Gazans specifically according to the Hamasnik group you’re apart of, all of these videos you’re being told to constantly watch over and over again because according to the Hamasnik cult you’re in, “if you look away from the violence even ONCE, you’re complicit in genocide! You’re personally responsible for genocide if you look away! The people in Gaza never get a mental health break or comfort so why should you?”
That very same rhetoric is the reason why a lot of you Jewish people can’t find yourself able to escape on fandom spaces and shit like that, the antisemitism you encounter in spaces you thought you were safe in? Yeah it’s because these people are being told that they have to constantly talk about what’s going on in every single space they’re in and that they can’t look away because if they do, they’re considered complicit in the killing of Gazans so they have to let everyone else know the same.
There are a lot of people who are purposefully antisemitic, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t me excusing anyone. I’m just saying that a number of these people genuinely believe that they’re doing something for the greater good by constantly being antisemitic. They don’t consider themselves antisemitic because the echo chamber they’re in has convinced them that Jewish people aren’t experiencing anything, that Jewish people are fine. That it’s the “big bad” that they’re hurting, not the Jews. It’s the “big and scary Zionists!” At least that’s what happened in my case. Constantly told that if I took a break even once, the blood of the Gazans, the blood of every. single. person in Gaza, would be on my own two hands.
You might not believe me, but when you’ve trapped a person in an echo chamber like that, it’s very easy to convince them that an entire country is evil, that every single Israeli is wicked and corrupt and should die and that anyone who expresses an ounce of empathy for them is a “Zionist” and should die as well.
You could’ve told me anything a few months ago. Absolutely anything bad about Israelis and I would’ve believed you. Because I’d scroll social media and see videos of children dying, people being beaten, buildings being destroyed, everything. Then I’d scroll some more and see videos of Israelis doing everyday things, videos of people having fun, videos of people eating, etc, and I found it so unfair that they (according to hamasnik rhetoric) were living in absolute peace while Palestinians are dying right next to them. Then I’d scroll some more and see videos of the IDF (I actually don’t even know if the videos were even of the IDF or not, but as I said, you could’ve told me anything and I’d have believed you. I genuinely believed that it was the IDF) shooting people, beating people, etc. And I was told to look at these videos everyday, every hour, every minute, every second. A lot of the Hamasnik mouthpieces take advantage of the average westerner’s inability to understand Arabic or Hebrew, so there’s a lot of mistranslated videos of Israelis saying they want every Arab dead, a lot of mistranslated Al Jazeera videos of people in Amsterdam for example, saying “يهودي قذر" (dirty Jew) with the wrong captions on and then us non Arabic speaking cult trapped people are none the wiser to what that means because we refuse to engage with any sources that won’t fit our narrative, because we’re complicit in death if we step outside the narrative.
I don’t believe that Zionists should die, but I did. I don’t believe that the hostages should suffer, but I did. I truly believed the worst of things, and perpetuated horrible antisemitism, because I genuinely believed that I was doing good. I found myself justifying unspeakable acts, and saying unspeakable things, things that I would have whole heartedly condemned prior, because I genuinely thought I was doing something right. For example, prior to me falling into that cultish trap, I would’ve wholeheartedly condemned saying a slur coined by David fucking Duke. But after? As I said, I was doing and saying unspeakable things.
I would watch videos from Hamasniks everyday, perpetuate antisemitism everyday, go to sleep and dream about that stuff, and wake up and do it all again, first thing in the morning. A vicious cycle.
And unknowingly somewhere else around the world, some Jewish or Israeli person would wake up, witness antisemitism everyday, witness people wishing the worst upon the hostages, the Jews, the Israelis, the Zionists, everyday, go to sleep terrified for what’s happening to their people, and wake up and see it all again first thing in the morning. Another vicious cycle.
I wish I had a better answer for you, I do. An answer that’s more digestible and less disturbing. I wish I could undo everything that I’ve said and done to the people I’ve hurt whether that be in real life or online. I truly am sorry, and I wish that an apology would fix everything, but it won’t. I wish that all the pain I inflicted on all the Jewish people and Israeli people could be taken away and that I would feel that pain tenfold.
If it’s any consolation or solace, I hate myself more than any of you combined. There is nobody who hates me more than me at this current moment in time and I absolutely do deserve every ounce of pain inflicted upon me, whether it be mental or physical. If you wish death upon me, just know that I do agree with you, but unfortunately previous attempts have failed.
I deleted all of my old posts from that period of time to avoid people getting hurt by them anymore, but I think I’ve done too much damage for me to be a good ally, so I just say nothing now, but I truly do wish the best for all of you and I wish that all of this would stop and that the hostages will be found, hopefully alive.
My apologies for writing a whole Bible in your asks, I truly didn’t mean to.
TLDR - reductionism and anti-intellectualism combined with trapping yourself in an echo chamber of regurgitated rhetoric and constantly regurgitating said rhetoric is a quick way to find yourself dabbling in extremism.
To avoid falling into a trap such as this, avoid generalisations of races, ethnic groups, and the like, look for nuance, try hear people out even when you don’t understand them, instead of blocking them (this is in reference to me blocking every single person who opposed my hamasnik ideology at the time. You should probably block hamasniks, they tend to harass Jewish people a lot), and remember that if someone tells you that a whole war isn’t complex, they’re lying. It absolutely is.
I hope you've been able to see the other responses your other ask has gotten as well! Truly, you aren't someone who I hate. Personally, I do forgive you. Other people may not, and that's their right. But I know first-hand what it's like to be radicalized and to not only commit to extreme rhetoric but also extreme actions. I've learned to have compassion for myself, and I hope that with time you will undergo a similar process.
Someone else said it, "you can't hate yourself into being a better person." All of us, as beings, grow with love and kindness. War is hard it's horrific, and hellish. You're constantly exposed to this violent imagery, this extreme rhetoric, and your whole friend groups are getting in on it. I understand exactly how it happens, and I do have sympathy for it.
To me, the most important part of your story isn't the worst shit you've ever done. It's this part. The part where you learn how to be better, and so you do better, and reach out across the divides and bridge those gaps that have formed. That is a very human story.
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do you have any advice on navigating a friendship with a former abuser? they are pretty open about their past when asked although not incredibly initially forthcoming about it, which I think is understandable if maybe not the most,, idk,, straightforward I guess. But I do truly believe they’ve mended their ways and try really hard to do right by themselves and other people, but they’ve garnered a lot of vitriol from their former community (and with reason!!) but that community tries to, rightfully, make sure everyone knows about this person’s past, and I have a lot of guilt around being friends with them even though I do believe that they’re different now, I wouldn’t be friends with them if I didn’t believe that. Anyways, I guess im curious if you have any advice or experience with how to navigate any kind of relationship with someone who has done a lot of prior harm, while also trying to honor and respect the people who they have harmed?
I think that people in that situation are in really desperate need of community, most of the time. It is very difficult to work on yourself when pressure to excise you from every social group follows you everywhere you go, and the stories of what you've done have morphed into an entity that exists entirely outside of you, your victims, or anyone who was actually privy to the abuse that you committed.
It's very reasonable for people affected by the abuse & their allies to want nothing to do with such a person, of course. But there sometimes becomes a broader community norm of penalizing anyone who associates with the abusive person in any way whatsoever, and when you're already struggling with entitlement, boundary issues, loneliness, impulsivity, and self-hatred, as so many abusers do, it's hard not to spiral out further from being rendered that radioactive.
I think by being friends with this person you're doing something important. It is far easier for people to grow when they have social incentives to do so and emotional support. In the care of other people, we see our worth reflected. We learn more about who we are and who we *can* be through the interplay of ours' and others' various selves.
I think the best thing that you can do is to offer a space to this person in your life, if you continue wanting to, and building small spaces for them to find connection with people who are okay with that and feel comfortable doing so. Bring the person along with you into new spaces where they can help people and receive help in turn, without constantly being defined by their most horrible actions. Bring this person along with you to somewhere they've never been, with people who have no issue with them -- do a shift together at the local mutual kitchen or community garden, for instance, or a book club, or include them in a cultural practice that you participate in, and share that with them. Do jail support together, or mail books to prisoners. Take both of you outside of your everyday social context and allow them to exist in a new way, in new relations to others -- including people who, like them, have experienced social ostracism and struggle.
While you're doing that, observe them and see how they're doing. Talk with them afterward about how they feel, and anything they're finding difficult. I will trust your judgement here that the person seems fundamentally changed. Just being there and involved in activities alongside them will help you be on the lookout for any red flags, and I do think there is a degree of responsibility on your part to ensure you're not putting anyone else in danger by being around them, but you can do this in a light, nonjudgmental way, and let them grow into that trust that you're offering.
I have witnessed firsthand how healing it is for people like your friend to slowly realize that suddenly there are people that like them, now, and open up to them, when everybody shied away from them or hated them before. I do think that if someone is committed to no longer being abusive or boundary violating around others, they eventually do need to feel that they are accepted by some community, and seen as on par with anybody else. They can't be treated as lesser or more suspect for their entire lives in every social context. The communities they've already harmed shouldn't have to provide them with that acceptance and room to grow. But I think somebody should.
As always, keep an eye on your own feelings and make sure that this isn't too exhausting for you. By keeping the formerly abusive person separate from the groups they've harmed, you should be able to minimize the blowback you get for spending time with them. Not all of our friends need to be friends with one another, and not every social group in our lives has to make contact. It's okay to include your friend in a running group with a few other people you met volunteering but then keep their name off the guest list for your birthday party because associates of their victims will be there. If your friend is truly contrite over their actions, they will understand and respect that some people will never want to be around them -- and most reasonable community members should understand that who you associate with independently of them is not their business.
There may be some people who take a really hard line stance and expect everyone to ostracize the former abuser no matter what, and so you might be criticized or lose friendships with such people. But so long as you are helping to give the former abuser some social connection that is separate from anybody they've hurt, and you're not pressuring anyone to be around them or doing any apologism for them (which it sounds like you have no interest in doing), then you are not doing a thing wrong, and I think it's beautiful to give someone that space in your life. Navigating this stuff with grace, respect, and compassion is a skill that a lot more of us will eventually have to develop than we realize, I think. Life is long, and over the course of it, people change a great deal and do a great many things they regret. We need to be able to move through these things together somehow.
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“Priorities”
Carlos Sainz x Reader
Tw: nothing I think, some angst.
~~~~
It was late afternoon by the time Carlos had wrapped up his meetings, finally parking the car outside your shared apartment. Despite his tiredness he couldn’t help the small smile on his face, excited to finally come home and looking forward to unwind together with you. His mind was filled with thoughts of food, maybe you should cook together? Or order in from that little Italian place you loved so much? He thought of what to watch on tv, knowing at the same time that it didn’t matter much to him. Hed probably fall asleep with his head in your lap within a few minutes of you sinking down in the couch together. As he unlocked the door he call out a soft hello, expecting you to pop out from somewhere like you usually did and come greet him with a kiss. When you didn’t, the silence of the apartment made him almost uneasy. Carlos called out for you again, frowning when he didn’t get an answer. Confused he pulled his phone from his pocket, thinking he might’ve missed a message from you, but the only one was your short conversation from this morning. He hadn’t heard anything since he told you he was in a meeting and when he thought about it that was kind of wierd. Normally he’d come out of a meeting to at least one text from you, and probably a cute picture of something you’d seen or something you’d cooked. You liked to keep him updated and he loved getting updates. He frowned, pressing the button to call you. The frown only deepened when he was forced to listen to the singlas until it eventually went to voicemail. Maybe you were at the gym? Or in the store, or out with friends? You usually picked up when he called though. Sighing Carlos moved further into the apartment, sinking down in the couch with a deep breath. Lazily scrolling through his phone it took him a few minutes until his eyes stopped on a story posted by one of your friends. The scene was cozy, candle-lit table and a tightly squeezed group of people posing for the picture. Right in the center he saw you, eyes crinkling with laughter as you carefully cut up the cake placed infront of you. His heart skipped a beat and as his eyes moved to read the caption it sank all the way down into his stomach.
Happy birthday to the sweetest, kindest and most beautiful soul. Love you!
Your birthday. It’s your birthday today and he’d completely forgotten it. You’d reminded him, several times the past few weeks, and every time he’d promise that he would make it the best day ever. That you and him would spend it together, all day with full focus on you and not a single thought on anything else. He’d promised himself to leave work behind, even just for one day, to really be able to make it special for you and now here he stood imagining your face when you realized he hadn’t kept any of it. Carlos fingers flew over his screen, quickly trying to call you again. When you didn’t answer, he hadn’t expected you to, he typed out a message.
C: Carino I’m so sorry
C: Im sorry, please call me? Or let me come see you?
C: I can pick you up after your dinner and we can do something? Anything you like
C: I love you, I’m sorry
You didn’t respond at first and Carlos began pacing the apartment, the stress and guilt eating him up from inside. He was just about to call one of your friends when your message finally came.
Y: Im out with friends Carlos, it’s fine.
Y: Love you too
He stared at it, a lump in his throat. He hated that you said it was fine, he knows it’s not. He knows what he has done is not fine and he knows you are not feeling fine either. He can see you, surrounded by your friends but also being reminded that he completely fucked you over today. The words its fine didn’t feel right, he could practically feel the disappointment laced beneath them.
C: Please amor, let me make it up to you.
No reply. Carlos kept his phone by his side the whole evening, waiting and constantly checking the screen hoping to find you giving him another chance but the silence dragged on. As the hours ticked by he realized you weren’t letting him off the hook that easily, not that he thought you should, but the panic inside him grew. Today should’ve been about you, about showing you he was capable of putting work aside, proving that despite everything always being about racing you were his priority. He hated that you gave him so much of your time and energy and he just- forgot. When he finally heard the sound of a key in the door he scrambled to his feet and moved out into the hallway, just in time to see you step inside. Your eyes met for the briefest moment before you turned away, expression calm but guarded.
”Hey.” He started, voice soft and overflowing with regret. You offered a quiet greeting, still not meeting his gaze, and he continued. ”Im so so sorry. I forgot, and I know that such a dickmove and I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I have no excuse, I just-”
”It’s fine Carlos.” You nodded, hanging up your coat with slow and steady movements. Your tone of voice betrayed you and Carlos could heard the hurt you tried to hide. ”I know you’re busy. Its fine. I didn’t want to bother you.” The words slipping from your lips had his chest tightening.
”You’re never a bother baby.” His words came out almost as whispers, eyes pleading. ”I- I know I messed up, I should’ve been here. I promise I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He didn’t miss the way something flashed in your eyes, something hard and cold before your face softened. The sadness in your gaze when you watched him had him want to clutch his chest.
”You don’t have to promise anything Carlos.” The way you spoke was almost resigned. ”It’s fine. I just wish I didn’t feel like I’m something you have to work to fit into your schedule instead of something you actually want there.” The words stung, more than he had expected. Carlos wanted to reach for you, pull you close and tell you how important you were to him. That he’d give up everything else if you asked him to. But he didn’t, instead he just stood there looking into your eyes and realizing you didn’t want to talk to him right now. Carlos stayed still, watching you delicately make your way past him and he felt the weight of the promise that might’ve come a little too late this time.
That night, when Carlos eventually joined you in bed, he could feel the invisible wall between you. He caught himself glancing over, hoping you’d turn to him or shuffle closer like you’d usually do. He wanted nothing more than to have you curled up against his chest, but something in the air stopped him from reaching out. Instead he stared up at the ceiling, your earlier words replaying in his head. You felt like he didn’t want you, like you didn’t matter enough to him to make time for you in his schedule.
The days that followed didn’t seem to get any better. Carlos didn’t know how to approach the subject, didn’t know what to say, and you moved through the apartment like a ghost. You were always polite, always kind, but distant. When he asked if you wanted to join him for coffee or go for a run och a bike ride you’d shake your head while offering a soft smile, telling him you didn’t have time right now. When he tried to bring up the upcoming weekend, a weekend he knew was free for both you and him, and suggested that you’d plan a trip together you once again offered a sweet smile and told him you’d be up for whatever worked best for him. You stopped asking him for things, he noticed, and you never reached out first. When you kissed it was him who leaned in, when you ate together it was his suggestion. You didn’t remind him of plans, didn’t suggest movie nights, didn’t send him those funny little updates on your day when you were apart and he missed it. All of it. You didn’t even utter a word of complain when he was busy, you just let him go and never asked for even a moment of his time. Every time he noticed you step back something inside him twisted.
One evening, after Carlos had spent the day at the training center, he came home to find you sitting on the couch reading. You looked up at him when he entered, offered him a faint smile and a small hello, before turning back to your book. Usually, before all this, you’d be quick to ask him about his day, pull him down to cuddle with you and gently scratch the stress away from his scalp. But now it was as if you almost went out of your way not to talk to him. Carlos couldn’t stand it. It had only been a few days but the tension, the quiet ache of your absence was driving him mad. Taking a deep breath Carlos shuffled over, taking a seat on the coffee table infront of you. You shifted, glancing up at him, but didn’t speak.
”Can we talk?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. You hesitated, you hated that you did, before nodding slowly.
”Of course. What’s on your mind?” The way you answered, so calm and almost indifferent, made him have to swallow the lump in his throat. He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.
”It’s not about what’s on my mind, it’s about yours. I, well I can feel you pulling away and I get that it’s my fault, you know? I know it’s because of what happened but I- I don’t know how to fix it. ”
”Carlos,” you murmured, eyes trailing down to your fidgeting fingers. ”It’s fine. I told you, I don’t want to bother you. I know you’re busy, I know you don’t need more stress in your life.” The words hit him like a punch. A bother. He could tell you genuinely believed that, that you saw yourself like someone, something, that bothered him. After everything you’ve been through he’d somehow made you feel like an inconvenience in his life.
”Don’t say that.” His voice was strained as he leaned forward, elbows on knees. ”You’re not a bother. Never. I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I know forgetting your birthday was the dickmove of the century, I really fucked up-”
”It’s not about you forgetting my birthday Carlos.” You shook your head softly, interrupting him. ”Or, well it is but not just that. It’s that sometimes, more recently, it feels like there’s no room for me in your life. Like you’re not willing to make room. I’m here all the time and you come find me when it’s convenient.” Carlos flinched, words cutting through his heart like sharp blades. You were right, he knew you were, but he hadn’t been willing to admit it earlier. He barely was now. You’d always been so kind, so understanding and supportive of his career and his demanding schedule and your support meant the world to him. He hated that he hadn’t showed you that. He hated himself for taking it for granted.
”I know I haven’t been good at- well at balancing things.” As he spoke his voice was thick with regret. ”And I know it’s been a lot recently, but carinõ I never meant to make you feel like, like you’re on the outside. I see you as a part of my life, like the biggest part. You’re what’s important.” Your gaze stayed trained on your hands, expression softening but still guarded.
”That’s nice to hear.” Murmured words had him carefully reach out to wedge his hand between yours and for the first time in days you didn’t pull away. ”I get that you have a lot on your plate and I want to support you I just, I don’t know if I can keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”
”You shouldn’t. Pretend, I mean.” Silence settled slowly as Carlos tried to gather his thoughts. He held your hand tightly, thumb swiping gently across your knuckles. He knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to throw promises at her and beg her to give him another chance, but he also knew that wouldn’t cut it. Carlos understood that whatever he said now wouldn’t matter until he actually showed you, showed up for you, and he silently promised himself he would. As a single drop hit the back of his hand his eyes quickly trailed back to your face, feeling his chest clench as he watched yet another tear slowly slip down your cheek. With a deep breath he squeezed your hand, leaning closer. ”Can I please hold you?” The question felt weird on his tongue, he’d never asked for permission to touch you before, but it seemed necessary in the situation. When you offered a small nod, sniffing quietly, Carlos didn’t hesitate. In a swift maneuver he was seated next to you in the couch, arms wrapped around your frame as you fell against him. He released a shaky breath when he felt your arms snake around his torso and he pulled you somehow even closer, nose pressed against the top of your head.
”I missed you.” Your voice was barely audible but Carlos could feel the words seep into his skin.
”I missed you too.” He spoke against your hair. ”And I know I will have to show you for you to believe me, but I really am sorry. You deserve a lot more than I’ve given you lately and I promise I’ll be better. I’ll make time, real time, for us. You’re the most important person in my life, you’re my person, and I’m not losing you.” Carlos eyes fluttered open as you slowly pulled away, looking up at him with a mixture of sadness and hope.
”I really hope you mean it.”
”I do.” You held his gaze in silence for what felt like forever until you finally nodded.
”Okay.”
~~
The days went on after that and soon enough days turned into weeks, weeks into months. Carlos had really realized what he had been doing to you, how his neglect had chipped away at the foundation of what you had built together, and he’d been working on it. Really working on it. At first it was awkward, you both thought so. Carlos wasn’t used to scheduling his time around someone else, not in the way you needed or in the way he wanted to offer. He had to force himself to slow down, to prioritize moments with you. He learned to say no, to meeting, to interviews, to unnecessary events because he had realized what it cost him to always say yes. The reward for saying no though, was what really brought him happiness. Every time he chose you, every time he prioritized you over the demands that came with his career, he saw something in your eyes. Relief, hope, love. It hadn’t been easy though, not all of it. There were moments when he still caught you hesitating before asking for something, moment when he knew you were keeping yourself in check not to be a bother, and every time it broke his heart a little bit. One time you carefully suggested that the two of you could take a small trip, since both of you were off work for a few days, and he could tell you were bracing yourself for disappointment even as you asked the question. He knew you still kept a lot of your feelings to yourself, brushing off things that upset you, and that’s what hurt him the most. Knowing you were still healing from what he’d put you through. There were good moments too, the majority actually, that made both of you feel like you were moving in the right direction. Like when he surprised you with a packed picnic basket one morning when you thought he would be at work. Or that time he saw you smile, really smile, when you heard him turn down a late-night meeting just to stay in and watch your favorite show together. It was a slow process, earning back your trust, but he was determined to make it.
One evening you sat on the balcony together, the glow of the city and the sinking sun blending together in front of you. Carlos had you tucked closely to his side, fingers twisting a strand of your hair absentmindedly as both of you just seemed to enjoy your time together.
”You’re quiet tonight.” Your soft murmur had him gazing down at you, smiling softly when he saw your face already turned up. Carlos moved his free hand to brush a strand of hair from your cheek.
”I’m just thinking.”
”About what?” Carlos hesitated, unsure how to express what he was feeling. When you reached up to grab his hand, tilting your head in that way he always found so endearing, he spoke up again.
”About how lucky I am. That you’re still here, with me, you know? That you didn’t give up.”
Your expression softened if possible even more, fingers intertwining with his. ”I never wanted to give up Carlos, I never wanted us to end.” You assured him, brows softly knitting together. ”I just needed to know if you actually wanted me here.” Carlos chest tightened, reminders of those painful days when he didn’t know if he’d be able to fix what he caused flashing through his mind.
”I do. I did and I do. I’ll always want you, need you.” He paused to lean down and press his lips against your forehead for a moment, taking a deep breath in through his nose as he gathered his composure. “I’ll never stop trying to show you how much you belong in my life, how important you are to me. Because you are.” Carlos tensed for a second as you pulled away, holding his breath as you looked at him. When you finally moved again you slowly leaned up to kiss him, lips soft and warm against his, and Carlos felt himself relax again. As you pulled back he saw a glimmer of something in your eyes, something lighter, as if the weight you’d been carrying was slowly starting to lift.
”Thank you.” Once again your words came out soft, softer than he felt he deserved.
”For what?”
”For fighting for us. For wanting to make this work. You could’ve just given up and focused all your time on all your other stuff, but you’ve really tried.” Your words had him melt, the arm he had around your shoulders tightening slightly. ”I do really appreciate these past months Carlos, and I know it hasn’t been easy but it’s been good. Great. You’ve been great.”
”It hasn’t been easy.” He agreed slowly. ”But it has been worth it. Every time.” Carlos leaned in to press another gently kiss against your lips before continuing. ”I’ll always fight for us. For you.” He didn’t say anything else. Neither did you. You didn’t have to. You just sat there, tangled together in the quiet and felt the wave of security and gratitude wash over you. Things were going to be okay, both of you knew it. Maybe even better than okay.
#imagine#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1#formula one#f1 writing#f1 fic#carlos sainz#sainz#Sainz x Reader#Carlos Sainz imagine
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"I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired this"
Some people think Galadriel has now overcome her "bad boy phase" and can move on with no internal struggle. But TROP made Galadriel's desire for Sauron a symbol of her desire for power. By ignoring Galadriel's ongoing temptation, people end up ignoring what makes Galadriel who she is—a character constantly fighting and taming the desires of her own heart.
Galadriel didn't hear Diarmid's advice to Sauron in 2x01 about choosing good each day but that's what she does. She chooses good even when her very heart greatly desires something else. The choosing didn't eliminate the desire. It just makes Galadriel a very strong person to want something and deny herself for 3000 years.
The most famous Galadriel scene happens 3000 years post-TROP. Sauron has been haunting the edges of Galadriel's heart for millennia when Frodo offers her the One Ring. Galadriel sees the One Ring that represents Sauron and tells Frodo that her heart has greatly desired it and she uses Sauron's words throughout.
"Has greatly desired" a phrasing that implies a current ongoing state. Galadriel isn't saying "I had desired." Her desire is stated in the present perfect tense.
Just because she fights her temptation for 3000 years and wins doesn't mean her desire has gone or that it isn't a hard won victory every time. Her internal victory wouldn't mean anything if the temptation wasn't real and an ever-present danger, and if the desire wasn't real.
Sauron is representational of a key part of Galadriel's identity and struggle on TROP. Whatever else Galadriel does, he's there, haunting her with what he offers. She denies the desires of her very heart (which really is her denying and overcoming herself).
#galadriel#the rings of power#trop#haladriel#saurondriel#people ignoring what the mirror of galadriel means when that is THE galadriel scene.#the encapsulation of the main theme in galadriel's story
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A Kokichi post in 2024???
(little thoughts of mine under the cut)
I had a conversation with my partner the other day, involving how people with ADHD approach the dopamine chase. Despite what we know about Kokichi purposely villainizing himself for the sake of his classmates, he was a little shit on purpose before he forced himself to be MORE of a little shit. Most of the long term Danganronpa fans can agree he probably has ADHD. Like, just look at him and how he acts, even before he decides to take on the villain role. My personal take on this is that he chases dopamine by bothering people. In this sense, he feels bored, and boredom is not an option for us and especially not him. And so, by constantly being an annoyance, he entertains himself, getting that dopamine, and when he's no longer getting said dopamine from the conversation he abruptly leaves. Also explains why he just doesn't do specific things for the simple fact that he just doesn't want to. It wouldn't trigger that part of his brain and just the thought of doing it is agonizing so he just doesn't. What's y'all's take though? I'm interested to see what everyone else thinks.
#danganronpa v3#Danganronpa#Kokichi#kokichi fanart#kokichi ouma#drv3 kokichi#danganronpa kokichi#Man's a little shit but we love him anyways
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-> L&DS Men as catboys ! x reader - Headcanons
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹. ฅ^.ᆺ.^ฅ
―୨୧⋆ ˚. Inspired from the current in-game event obviously, a bunch of headcanons imagining what it's like for you to leave everyday with them as catboys.
SFW, gn! Reader, very fluffy, cute and domestic, lots of comfort, just talking about what kind of cat they are, what personality they have, their habits and hobbies, their relationship with reader etc. Just a little CW for Sylus's part where I talk about dead animals and his sadistic tendencies, because it's Sylus after all.
ฅ≽^•⩊•^≼ฅ 𓆝 ✮彡🐾~ enter ! ~🐾✮彡 𓆞 ฅ^>⩊<^ฅ
XAVIER ᡣ𐭩
• Not much of a surprise if I tell you that catboy Xavier is the most chill and sleepy cat ever.
• He sleeps for around 12 to 15 hours a day, and 12 hours is really the minimum, otherwise he gets grumpy.
• I imagine him to be either a British shorthair or a Ragdoll. Probably more of a Ragdoll because of his blue eyes and how chill he is, but the roundness of a British shorthair also fits him in my opinion. You can carry a Ragdoll, lift it up, move it around and yet the cat stays very relaxed most of the time. I think Xavier is similar in that sense, he doesn't really budge no matter what you do. You can poke him, pet him, scratch him, cup his face, give him belly rubs, annoy him by breathing on his ears, yap for hours next to him and he has to listen to you, carry him around whatever you want, and he won't say much, he'll be as limp as a mop.
• Cat Xavier considers you as the only person with whom he feels fully comfortable. There's nobody else but you to make him feel safe enough to put his guard down and relinquish his wary personality.
• Therefore, for cat Xavier, as long as he can spend time next to you, safe and sound in the comfort of your warm mutual home and safe place, the rest does not matter much.
• So he is very easy-going with pretty much anything. However, as much as he is compliant and he never complains, that does not mean he won't hold a grudge against you for what you have done. Cat Xavier, just like any cat, has his limits, the only difference is that he is more tolerant with your bullshit than most cats.
• But he'll let you know when he is upset at you because you either went too far, you bothered him a little too much or he was missing you too much because you were away for too long. He's not very mean, he just gets very pouty and he sulks in his little corner, ignoring you for a while. (like 10 minutes lol) Sometimes he can gently tease with humour about you doing something wrong, but he'll always accept your apologies and he'll forgive you.
• Cat Xavier has a preference for the particularly warmest places of the house, which are sometimes a little strange. It goes from his little cushion/bed, to the pile of pillows and plushies, then to the closet with your clothes inside, literally on top of the freakin' radiator, inside the washing machine's drum, and finally ; and most importantly, your belly <3.
• Cat Xavier absolutely loves sleeping on your belly, or just sleeping on any body parts of yours in general, or even just laying there putting half of his weight on top of you for no reason other than appreciating the warmth of your body. In his daily life, it's very important for him to constantly have physical contact with you, it could be just a light brushing of his tail around your body, or a well-deserved pat on the head, a little rub on your arm or leg, or better : his very favorite scratches around his ears.
• He's not a loud cat at all, very quiet and rarely ever makes noise except for purring. The only downside is that sometimes when you call him and he doesn't answer because he is sleeping or quietly focused on his activity, then you have to search for him everywhere around the house, while imagining the worst case scenarios. It's very stressful.
• His favorite hobbies include napping, getting pets and scratches around his ears from you, playing video games and board games, reading, eating fried chicken, finding new napping spots around the house, cuddling on the couch with you, and bathing. He is definitely an only indoor cat, I believe. Rarely, he accepts going outside with you for a stroll at a calm park or to do some grocery shopping.
• Yes! Catboy Xavier likes bathing! He is one of those rare cats who actually appreciates being washed with warm water. He likes swimming in it too, as long as it's very warm.
• When it comes to what he doesn't like ; Xavier despises getting his claws trimmed, being cold and coming in contact with cold stuff, rain, you being away for multiple days, and being brushed.
• But you absolutely have to brush him or else your home would be covered with white fur everywhere. His fur is quite thick and fluffy and he sheds a lot. He knows that well, so he'll stay patient and won't complain, but deep inside he really wants to escape the brush.
• Cat Xavier is a very obedient cat, he can be just a bit reluctant to do certain things when he doesn't appreciate them or when he feels very lazy (just like anyone). But he won't be stubborn about it and eventually he'll give in.
• He is a little bit of a glutton, you have to hide away some food or else he'll eat almost everything and then he will have a stomach ache, whining about the consequences of his own actions. Secretly, he does try to steal some food from time to time by avoiding your surveillance and unfortunately for you, it works.
• Cat Xavier is not a mischievous cat tho, he doesn't play tricks or tries to mess things up, in fact he is so wise and well-behaved that he even learned to scratch his nails on nothing else but the cat tree you got him ; so your furniture was absolutely never damaged.
• Cat Xavier is usually a very lazy cat who doesn't push himself to hard when it comes to tasks. However, he does like to take care of your home and to partake in some little domestic activities alongside you, such as doing the laundry and changing the bedsheets after cleaning them ; even if he's not the most dutiful, he is willing to accomplish those things if it means making you proud of him.
• For example, a nice attention of his is to do little tasks around the house while you're not there or while you are resting, in hopes that you'll praise him or that you'll reward him later. Like watering the plants or picking up the trash.
• And that's it, don't expect him to do more than that. Catboy Xavier is too lazy to do something that requires too much effort, either mental or physical.
• Instead, what you can expect out of him everyday is his ability to monopolize the sofa and keep it warm by doing so. Reaching his arms to you with open hands, demanding a cuddle or a pet out of you, you don't know which exactly, but you just gotta approach him a little bit and you'll know soon enough when he'll lock you in his embrace and he'll nuzzle his face against you.
• Catboy Xavier looks up at you, with no words out of his mouth you can still identify this typical naive pleading look of his ; the one that says "please, give me your affection too".
• Basically, Xavier as a catboy is a very quiet, well-behaved, cuddly and clingy companion, who appreciates nothing more and nothing less, than the domesticity of indoor activities and the comforting warmth of your presence.
≽ܫ≼ ⋆˚🐾˖°
ZAYNE ᡣ𐭩
• Catboy Zayne is, as expected, a very calm pet and a good caretaker of your home, one who rarely ever complains and who does his work dutifully.
• Catboy Xavier is like a true perfect butler who takes care of everything. Or maybe more like a maide actually. He takes care of all the tasks around the house ; cleaning, sweeping, cooking, ironing, washing, folding, refreshing, repairing, doing the laundry, collecting the trash, making the bed etc. He takes care of your garden too, gets rid of the weeds, gives a cut to your plants after watering them. He also manages your paperwork and your schedule (such as your taxes). And of course he takes care of you and your health, helping you relax when you need to, advising you proper medication and sometimes provides a massage as a supplement. He's basically an excellent handyman, the perfect man you could imagine, always ready to be at your service, and not because he is forced to but because he genuinely believes it is his obligation. Catboy Zayne loves to take care of everything for you; for him it is a synonym of taking care of you too.
• Therefore, it's very comforting to live alongside him when all the sheets and clothes smell fresh and clean, every room is perfectly dusted and neatly organized, the flowers are beautiful and lively, the meals are delicious and nutritious, and a cat is there to greet you every morning when you wake up and every night when you come back home.
• Although, what you don't know, is that housework isn't only the way for him to take care of you, it is also his way to indulge in his obsession with you. Cat Zayne is obsessed with your scent and he loves holding on to everything that belongs to you ; so much so that doing housework becomes a pretense for him to indulge in his guilty pleasure.
• Every time he grasps in his hands an object you own, he feels content with the idea that he is sharing it with you, that everything which is yours is now also his, that everything you have touched is linked to him when he touches them. Sometimes he even keeps a few insignificant trinkets that he puts in a little box, dedicated to your items. Every time he is folding your clothes, he inhales a few of them, feeling satisfied with how good his owner smells. He previously questioned himself if what he was doing was perverted and wrong, but he estimated that it was not since he has no sexual interest in it. And it might be a little dirty and weird, but truly, he is just merely enjoying your scent because he loves you and misses you so much while he works, nothing more and nothing less.
• As you would expect he never ever tells you about all of this, and somehow you never really notice his strange behavior. He isn't ashamed of the passion he has for you, but he is a little scared you might take your distance with him after knowing about it while he kept it as a secret for so long. Moreover, he is terrified that you'll consider him a bad and unruly pet.
• His slight obsessiveness also translates into him watching over you constantly when you don't notice it, particularly when you have your back turned away from him. Cat Zayne is constantly surveiling you and that is also his own way of taking care of you ; he could be behind the corner of your bedroom's door without you knowing and looking at you discreetly because he doesn't want to disturb you, he could be looking at you through the window while you enjoy some time in the garden, or he could be silently watching over you when you are working, passing behind you multiple times to observe what you do with curiosity and to admire your figure. It might seem really creepy but it isn't (please believe me). Catboy Zayne observes you a lot but not in a controlling manner, it's more of a constant admiration and curiosity towards you. Think of those cats who follow you when you go to the toilets for example, it is strange but it's usually out of care and appreciation. Similarly, cat Zayne appreciates watching you from afar, because he knows most of the time he's too busy and shy to get closer to you.
• He watches you so often, that he developed a certain skill to know in advance what you are going to do and what you are going to say sometimes. For example, he is quick to catch a glass or a mug you accidentally knocked, based on your position and his prediction of your next movements, as you angrily tell him what your boss did today. Or he warns you when you are about to bump your head onto the door-frame as he puts his hand over it. Or he can also complete some of your sentences when you converse with him.
• In general, cat Zayne is very quick to react and possesses good reflexes. Probably the most skilled out of all the catboys.
• In all logic, he is also very meticulous, which goes along with his responsibilities and his carefulness around you.
• Catboy Zayne has a certain degree of obsession with order and perfection ; if your home would be a mess, he would never forgive himself, as he considers it his duty to take care of the safe and harmonious place for your well-being.
• You tend to worry about his own well-being when you witness him working so much, so you try to help him to relieve him of his workload. Zayne appreciates the gesture, but he still insists on putting you aside so that you can let him take the matters in his hands.
• Instead, you suggest him to take some time off more often, and encourage him to develop his hobbies in his free-time.
• Catboy Zayne rarely allows himself to take breaks, but with time he does start to develop certain hobbies (outside of the obsessive ones), supported by the enthusiasm of your encouragement. As a result, he started to read more often, to play chess, to play with a few feathery toys you bought him, to listen to music, to run outside, to contemplate the birds and the shining sun by the window, and most importantly, he takes advantage of this precious time to stay glued to you.
• As much as he is shy and discreet around you, catboy Zayne is most definitely a very cuddly cat who loves being held in your arms. Most definitely a Main coon in my opinion, and I cannot imagine him as any other breed other than this one. Main coons are known to be giant cats with a very long and thick fur, big pointy ears, as well as a very big fluffy tail too. Paradoxical to their size and their fit body, they're usually not very courageous and physically strong cats, nor do they have a particular inclination to outdoor activities. Instead, they prefer living a comfortable life without too much physical effort, just enough to explore a little and satisfy their curiosity, while they enjoy their leisurely activities at home most of the time. They are also very cuddly and affectionate, they love to have lazy cuddle sessions. Thus, I believe catboy Zayne would be more similar to this breed both physically and in terms of personality.
• So typically like a Main coon, cat Zayne is very cuddly and he is definitely not a courageous cat outdoors. He doesn't hunt, he only goes out when it's sunny and when he's not too busy, and he would much rather stay inside with you to continue observing you.
• Since he doesn't have a lot of time off, you can be sure he'll be really clingy when he has the opportunity to do so. It's his most favorite activity, to just lay with you and cuddle in bed or on the couch, or really just anywhere in the house. He also wants to be held and picked up but it can be a little difficult considering his size and weight. He can be a little suffocating, because he constantly lays on top of you when you sleep and rubs himself on you to smell you and leave his scent above, which are signs of great possessiveness over you. But if you tell him to stop, he will. Cat Zayne wants to be the most obedient cat in all circumstances.
• Actually, at any of your orders cat Zayne will listen and execute those orders of yours immediately. He doesn't listen to anybody else, only you. Not that he meets a lot of people anyway, since he prefers to stay at home during 90% of his time, but even if he would, he'd feel very uneasy around new people.
• I guess he is sort of a "scaredy cat", if you could call him like that. He is scared of strangers and gets easily startled by sudden movements or by very loud noises, it makes him wince and cover his ears because of his highly sensitive hearing.
• Catboy Zayne dislikes anything which disturbs his tranquility. Meaning : sudden or brutal movements like a door closed by the wind, loud noises like the honking of cars, when he cannot get his work properly done, when it is stormy outside, thunderstorms, dogs barking, and the absolute worst being strangers coming over to your house.
• When a stranger invades your home, he hides pathetically in a closet or under your bed, far away from the menace, and he only comes out once it goes away.
• To make up for the mental disturbance of this event, Catboy Zayne tends to come over to you, and it's one of those rare times when he allows himself to be visibly vulnerable around you, by asking you to comfort him. Sometimes he doesn't even say it verbally, he just silently approaches you, and after so much time spent living alongside him, you can already guess he is feeling unwell by just looking at his expression, and you know exactly what to do.
• The only thing which could revitalize him is you and your cuddles, and the only other thing which could do the same is : salmon. Salmon being cat Zayne's favorite meal and you being aware about it, you decide to cook for him a big juicy piece of salmon.
• It's probably more than just the salmon that he finds comforting ; it is the fact that you act so patiently and you take your time to cook for him, it is the special and meticulous attention of yours to make it the most delicious meal, it is the kindness and altruism of your action. Basically, it is the fact that he witnesses you being good, amazing even, at taking care of him, at imitating the way he usually acts ; while you are supposed to be the one that he serves. Zayne is reminded that, as him being your pet and as you being his owner, the roles should be reversed from time to time, and he can definitely count on you to be a good caretaker for him.
• Zayne as a catboy is an obedient and attentive pet, one who perfectly accomplishes his obligations and who greatly takes care of his owner, because he immensely cherishes them. But in reality, he is a gentle giant who needs a lot of comfort and care too.
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RAFAYEL ᡣ𐭩
• Catboy Rafayel is a very playful and active kind of cat. Probably one the most energetic cats out of them all.
• He is a goofball, he likes to play with various things such as : toys, furniture that he can scratch, your hair, your hands, your legs, a bunch of random trinkets you buy that he likes to push to the edge until it drops to the ground.
• He is playful but he is not a meanie, therefore he won't purposely play with something which is too valuable to you or something which looks too fragile to be played with, at the risk of breaking it. And catboy Rafayel is a very witty cat with good observation skills, and an excellent capacity at understanding his surroundings to easily identify exactly those objects.
• However, occasionally they do break. Rafayel immediately apologizes and begs for forgiveness, teary eyed and feeling guilty for overestimating his judgment capacities. You, of course, forgive him ; no little trinket is more important than your precious kitty.
• His playfulness also consists of him teasing you a little bit. Again, not in a mean way, but just enough to catch your attention. For example, he'll brush his tail under your nose, he'll rub himself all over you, he will run around your legs for no reason, he'll lightly push his claws inside your arm, not enough to hurt you but enough to mark it with punctured dots. Or he will call you ridiculous nicknames that only he finds funny.
• In general, cat Rafayel is a harmless being, he could never hurt you or any living thing, not even a fly. He knows how to use his fangs and claws if he really feels in danger, just like any adult cat, but he tends to be naive and wimpy. Therefore he's not really alert enough to raise his guard fast enough in some situations, and you have to intervene to protect him instead. The advantage is that when he grabs your arm or leg, bites it and scratches it like a madman, it doesn't hurt at all, it's like those kittens who try to act fiercely.
• Cat Rafayel is definitely more of an outdoor cat. Home for him is the place where he knows he can always return safely to. Home is the place where he can sleep, eat, leisurely rest, and selfishly enjoy all of your attention all for himself. He requires it almost constantly and orders you around for things he wants. Which doesn't mean you necessarily indulge in his requests, but he'll continue to meow, whine and act needy in hopes you accept, until eventually he gives up, and just an hour later he'll already forget about it.
• Cat Rafayel being essentially an outdoor cat means he loves exploring nature, laying in the grass, sunbathing, and hunting. Now, he's not a very good hunter, but nothing makes him prouder than bringing you an object he found (like a little trinket to make himself forgiven) or a little prey he caught between his claws. It's usually a small lizard or a baby mouse. Birds are too fast for him. He never kills them because he feels too bad about it, so he only brings it to you and then releases the poor creature. One time, he brought you a big rat, his biggest catch, then you had to eradicate it from your place and it took a whole week...
• Ah also, he is surprisingly a very good swimmer who's not afraid of the water at all. The bath isn't his favorite thing but he tolerates it since it helps him to be clean, and ironically, later on you see him literally swimming in the lake nearby.
• Indoors, he likes painting of course, crafting little gifts for you, sleeping with you when he comes back home, playing with you, fetch the ball and bring it back to you, watching movies and series, as well as wild life documentaries, especially the ones about fish and other oceanic species.
• Noticing his interest in this very specific topic, you decide to buy him an aquarium full of little fishies, specifically made out for little kitties like him to put their paws in from the top, catch a fish and eat it. However, cat Rafayel only plays with them and stays there watching them for hours on end.
• It turns out he categorically refuses to eat fish. How strange... He's quite a picky eater of a cat. Instead, he only accepts eating other kinds of meat, especially turkey meat being his favorite. He's also addicted to these little cat treats you give him after you play with him or after learning him a trick.
• Other things he dislikes are : getting dirty outside, staining his fur with paint, being bored and not entertained enough, breaking something or making a mistake you warned him not to do, when you don't play with him, when you don't pay attention to him, when you leave him alone at home.
• Catboy Rafayel hates staying at home alone so much, that he even begs to follow you when you leave the house, pretending he does it to protect you (even if you just go out for a 5 min walk). Accompanying you wherever you go is also one of his favorite things.
• You just have to understand that, Rafayel essentially lives for your attention and your care for him, he craves it all the time and if he doesn't get it, suddenly the walls of your house feel immensely suffocating.
• I think cat Rafayel is most similar to a Somali cat. It's a breed of cat with thin and long fur, large ears and a very fluffy tail ; a type of cat which is very energetic and lively, hence the need to go outside and to be regularly entertained with games. But most importantly, it is a breed of cat that is very VERY possessive of their owner ; as much as they like to have their independence, they value their owner more than anything and cannot stand being on their own for a long time. Similarly, cat Rafayel values your presence a lot and he doesn't know what to do anymore without you.
• He's not the most physically affectionate cat ; he accepts everything and he does like it when you pet him, hug him and give him little pecks since it shows him you pay attention to him, but he doesn't require it all the time, and he doesn't like when the petting sessions take too long, otherwise he gets bored. His favorite spot to be pet is around his neck.
• Catboy Rafayel is a very intelligent and observant cat I believe, he can easily discern when you are feeling unwell, either sad or mad or tired ; whatever it is, he can make out your emotions even if you don't verbally tell him.
• Therefore, catboy Rafayel is very good at comforting you, always in a very gentle way. He doesn't need you to tell him what happened if you don't want to, without that he can still wrap his body around you, embrace your figure and softly pat your head, with an additional kiss on your forehead if he has to wipe away your tears. And if you need to let it all out, of course he is also all ears for you, he can quietly sit while listening to you for as long as you need ; after all, if you're not feeling well enough, then he doesn't have anybody to play with.
• I think he'd lift up your spirits by bringing you to a nice spot outside, to have some fresh air and change your mind with something else, like seeing fireworks or going to the beach, or play with snow if it's winter, or jumping into puddles after the rain. After all, those are the activities that he likes to do, so naturally he wants to share them with you too.
• He could also comfort you by suggesting to do something for you. Although, he isn't the most skilled with his hands when it comes to doing something other than painting or crafting stuff. So if you tell him that you want him to cook, or take care of some stuff around the house, he'll do it but it's not certain it'll come out great. He really tries his best tho lol.
• For example, one morning he tried to make some pancakes with a fruit salad, scrambled eggs and bacon, tea and coffee and your favorite fruit juice. He decided he'll do everything on his own without your help, while you'll be sleeping, and then he'd be able to bring you an amazing plate right at your bed when you wake up, because he knew you were working a lot and you were very tired lately.
• Unfortunately, his plan didn't go as well as he thought ; he burnt the bacon, he couldn't even cook the eggs because he kept piercing them too hard with his claws and they would drop to the floor (it's hard to cook with these...), he cut his fingers multiple times while cutting the fruits, he teared apart the bag of flour while trying to open it, etc...
• Cat Rafayel felt so disappointed, all he had left was a tiny fruit salad, coffee and tea and a fruit juice to bring you. With his bandaged hand, he brings you the plate at your bed and looks down in embrassement, telling you he tried to make it better than this but he failed. That's when you notice a little heart made with cream on top of the coffee's foam, a sign of his hard work and dedication.
• Rafayel as a catboy is truly a dedicated pet to his owner, ready to do anything for them because they are the most essential being in his life. While he may sometimes act selfish, wimpy, clumsy, possessive and capricious ; his playful and witty personality is at the service of his one and only.
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SYLUS ᡣ𐭩
• It's not very easy to live with Catboy Sylus, he's a very unruly cat, it is useless to expect him to act exactly like you want him to, to follow your orders or your advice, or to wait for him to come back home.
• Catboy Sylus is absent most of the time, busying himself with stuff that you don't even know about and roaming around only God knows where. You've tried to ask him about it sometimes but he refused to tell you anything. So you can only hope he comes back home safely every now and then, and that he doesn't act too recklessly outside.
• It worries you, because when he does come back home every 2 or 3 days, it's usually in the middle of the night or right at dawn, and occasionally his body is covered with scars and bruises. Most of the time it's nothing too serious, but you still have to take care of those, otherwise the veterinary bills would wreck your bank account.
• Most of his scars are rather small, but one of his ears is chipped off and he's got two big scars on his lower back, maybe from an opponent who tried to catch him from behind.
• Cat Sylus is most likely a moggy or a sort of unknown mixed breed ; a very tall cat with very pointy ears, short white and brownish fur, a short tail as well and an angular face. If I'd really try to assign him a certain cat breed, then he'd be most similar to a skinny Siamese or an Oriental shorthair, or some sort of mix of the two (both breeds are pretty similar anyway). But again, I imagine him more to be a moggy stray cat that you found one day, badly injured and alone in the streets, and brought home despite his unknown origins. He does have some similarities with the two breeds aforementioned ; he's very energetic and highly intelligent, you can never try to trick him and you can never put him down to calm him.
• For example, once you had to give him medication, on veterinary's orders, just one pill everyday. Such a tiny little thing to make him swallow just once at one moment of the day, yet a merciful battle. The only way to make him eat it was to negotiate with him ; for one pill swallowed, he was granted a chicken leg.
• It is rather strange to witness that cat Sylus has very carnal instincts, and it might be because he used to live in the dangerous streets, but then again he doesn't look like a cat with direct wild feline genes. Whatever it is, it causes him to require a strictly carnivore diet and he also has a refined palate, meaning he only accepts to eat the best quality meat, real whole meat that humans also eat instead of the foul processed stuff given to regular cats. Or worse, smelly biscuits as treats. He'd be greatly insulted if you gave him those.
• About his hobbies, you don't know exactly what he does outside except than fighting and hunting, but he is supposedly a very good fighter, and most certainly a very good hunter, considering how many dead animals he brings you. It can be small lizards, mice, rats and other rodents. He also brings birds quite often ; from a tiny sparrow to a very large starling or crow. Although he strangely never kills those unlike his other prey, he keeps them alive and leaves them injured in your care, like you don't have enough work taking care of him already...
• In any case, you do take care of these little birds, feeding them and keeping them at your home so they can rest and heal their wounds, until you can let them fly away when they are healthy enough. Their wounds are always shallow and never enough to kill them, but still hurtful enough to leave them immobilized, which makes you wonder if Sylus doesn't purposely hunt them this way to satisfy his cruel and sadistic tendencies. You see him standing next to these birds when they are in cage, quietly trying to rest, and for unknown reasons he doesn't attack them but he just sits there peacefully, admiring them. When you asked him about it and pointed out his cruel behavior, he got offended by your words and retorted that you mistakenly considered him as a blood thirsty creature because of your prejudice against him, and at those words he left by jumping out of the window.
• In contrast, at home, he is very tranquil and mostly quiet, except those few times when he chooses to meow very loudly to annoy you, other than that he rarely interacts with you. He usually keeps his distances from you and he sleeps at the top of his cat tree, or any other high spot that he can find at your place. You've never seen him sleep very soundly tho, you notice that he always stays half awake, keeping his guard up even inside your home, suspecting whoever might try to break in, and positioned at a strategical spot, ready to pounce on them.
• During those moments, it's best to stay away and not bother him, cat Sylus might hiss at you if you get too close when he wants to be alone, and he is usually not a cuddly cat. If you force him into pets or a hug he will definitely make you regret it. He does not hesitate to scratch or bite you, thus injuring you and letting blood gush out of your wound. However, you can sense that he doesn't use his full strength on you, he could hurt you much more if he wanted to, considering how strong and fierce he is, but you notice that he holds back to push his claws or fangs too deep into your skin, and he carefully avoids the most delicate parts of your body such as your face.
• Gradually, he becomes nicer around you and is more inclined to get closer to you. For example, he likes to rest next to you on the couch, while you watch the TV or read a book, and the background sound of the variety show or of the book's pages being turned lulls him to sleep. He also appreciates sitting on the counter top of your kitchen while you cook and make yourself some tea or coffee, the buzzing noise of the teapot and the crackling sounds of the pan's oil give him a peculiar feeling of familiarity, that he does not remember to have ever experienced before.
• Cat Sylus starts to take a liking into those pets you give him after a few months since you rescued him. When you argued that you cared for him and you loved him, and you were there for him no matter what, he started thinking that maybe you're right, maybe he could lower his guard a little more when he is at home, with only you and him. So now, he accepts getting pets every once in a while, mostly being caressed on his head and back, and getting head pats. He despises getting scratches, and don't you dare touch him anywhere else other than his back and head ; but other than that he likes your gentle and slow touch, one that he never had the privilege to deserve before because he was considered a bad cat.
• The more catboy Sylus gets comfortable around your home and around you, the more he starts acting in surprising ways. For example, he started smelling your potted flowers that you keep by your window while he watches over the street, seemingly pleased by their smell, and he doesn't even try to eat the leaves or play with them like most cats do. He also started appreciating the music you play on your vinyl, he likes everything but particularly jazz, r&b and some classical music. As another example, he started asking you if he can eat the exact same meals as you every day, especially if it's meat nicely seasoned and cooked. The more he'd spend time with you, the more he seemed to develop a certain refined and sophisticated taste.
• Overall, it turns out that Sylus respects your home a lot. He considers it a safe haven that he was extremely lucky to be brought to, so he'll never damage it and little by little he learns to love its little details that makes it such a special place for you and him. Like the flowers and plants, your collection of CDs and vinyls, a framed photo of you and a bunch of silly magnets as souvenirs on the fridge, the dent on the couch after so many years of you sitting there, and his own dent he started creating right next to it. He doesn't know if he really deserves this, after all he could've continued his life as a stray cat wandering the streets and never have the chance to experience this, and it wouldn't have changed much. But he is glad you gave him the opportunity to live something like this, and he could never be more grateful to you.
• Catboy Sylus does not tell you how grateful he really is, because he struggles to express his feelings, but instead he tries to show it. He does not know how to take care of a home and how to do housework, at all, but he decided he'll do things his own way.
• A special activity of his, that you don't know about, is guarding your home while you are away and guarding your bed while you are sleeping. Similarly to a dog, cat Sylus likes to do surveillance work around his territory, and most importantly around his owner. He paces around the house, doing some rounds to check every weak spot of your defenses. For example, at the back of your house, the fence is slightly crooked, which could become an opening for the enemy's strike. Which enemy? Who knows... But Sylus won't back down when it comes to your safety. At night, when he guards your bed, he lays at its foot and waits patiently for any suspicious sign, while keeping his senses alert. Later on, he even came to lay directly next to you, stayed closer to you to guarantee your protection in the most optimal way ; the warmth of your sleeping body next to him and the slight brushing of your ticking finger on his tail could never distract him! Then, just a few minutes before you wake up, when he senses you moving slightly, as the sun starts rising up at the same time, he promptly leaves to continue his duties outside.
• His strong territorial instincts and his possessiveness are at the same time a blessing and a curse. One day, one of your close relatives came by while you were absent, to drop off some of your belongings and a delicious home-made meal out of family generosity. Having called you prior and since they had a copy of your keys, they entered your home without knocking. Suddenly, something jumped on them and pushed them to the floor, keeping them locked with a strong grip as they panicked. When you came back home, it was difficult to explain to them that the enormous and threatening beast who attacked them, was actually the nice little catboy you rescued a while back, and that he wasn't a dangerous monster, he was just very protective and rigorous to his duties. For Sylus, anybody coming into your home, except you and him, is a threat, and he has a hard time understanding that it's not always true, but he might learn with time.
• One of the most difficult things with Catboy Sylus is the bath. When you thought that giving him his meds was already the hardest task you were ever given to, the bath was the ultimate challenge you could've never imagined, especially considering that he needs it quite often since he goes outside a lot. Sylus absolutely despises the water and the shampoo. It's probably because he never had the opportunity to get used to it and to get regularly bathed while living on the streets, but still he is particularly stubborn and difficult to handle. So it's a battle (again), where he sometimes slips out of your grasp, but you do manage to give him his bath after negotiating with him (again) a whole rotisserie chicken to eat after, only if he behaves. Sylus stays still, grumbling a little bit.
• About his emotions, catboy Sylus used to be a very grumpy cat, always with an angry expression with his eyebrows frowned and a mean look directed towards you. Now that he is less wary around you, he shifted his irritated look to a snarky smirk constantly plastered on his face, that you cannot seem to know how to remove. When he does his regular surveillance, he smirks, when he eats his food out of the plate you just gave him, he smirks, when he spends time sitting next to you, he smirks, and when you call him and his ears twitch and perk up just before he turns his head to look at you : his smirk grows even wider.
• Scrutinizing his face while he smirks at you like that, you notice the faint squinting of his crimson eyes, which indicates you the only thing you need to know now : Sylus is very content around you in your home.
• Sylus as a catboy is the most loyal and protective companion. As much as you take care of him and of his wounds, and you satisfy his refined taste, he does not require anything out of you in exchange ; being the true guardian that he is, all that matters for him is accomplishing his duty to protect your home, with you and him around.
≽ܫ≼ ⋆˚🐾˖°
Pulled an all-nighter for my assignment only to get a shitty grade, so now I comfort myself with fictional catboys stories.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─
After I wrote this (and you have to believe me), it turned out that Xavier is canonically a Ragdoll and Zayne is canonically a Main coon in the cat event, and it makes me so happy to know I guessed it right. Also, I do not know if I exactly wrote this as them being cats or catboys, it's a little difference so it doesn't matter much right? I guess it's kind of both.
I hope I didn't make the characters too ooc since I don't know them all that well in-game as of right now. Let me know in the comments.
Anyway, this took me a whole week to write ; so thank you very much for reading and coming all this way, I hope you liked it just as much as I liked writing it ! ദ്ദി(• ˕ •マ.ᐟ
#l&ds#lnds#lads#love and deepspace#l&ds sylus#l&ds rafayel#l&ds xavier#l&ds zayne#Fluff love and deepspace#fluff sylus#fluff rafayel#fluff zayne#fluff xavier#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#l&ds men as catboys#antares writes#fluff headcanons#l&ds headcanons#love and deepspace headcanons#comfort love and deepspace#catboys love and deepspace#catboy xavier#catboy zayne#catboy sylus#catboy rafayel
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This Pain Is Temporary
Anna x Fem!Reader
He's Just Not That Into You AU
Summary: I was watching this movie and had a lot of what if questions. What if the main cast actually all communicated with each other? What if Anna actually had some character development? What if Reader was a variation of a female Conor Barry who got a clue? And how would these differences lead to Anna genuinely falling in love with Reader.
warnings: very slowburn, angst, worse before better, eventual fluff.
You feel used. This person that you love…loved?? You aren’t really sure anymore of your feelings toward Anna. It was never simple with her. And truthfully, you wish you could go back to your blissful ignorance.
You had been so thrilled when she told you she was finally ready to take the next step with you. A real relationship with the girl of your dreams. Having your heartfelt love confession be returned and then making love for hours was more than you ever could have hoped for.
You now knew it was all a lie. And that Anna was a very skilled actor. In your excitement you had raced home the next morning to tell your best buddy Alex and his new girlfriend GiGi the news. After showing them a picture of Anna and you. The night of bliss quickly turned sour; GiGi hesitantly told you that Anna was the same woman that had a very recent affair with her best friend's husband. And everything the past few months had started to make sense. How Anna would constantly ignore your calls but somehow always be available when she needed her emotional needs met. And finding out that the only reason she wanted a relationship with you was because the man of her dreams wouldn’t leave his wife was heartbreaking. How could you be so stupid? And how could you be so blind to the type of person Anna really was.
You felt a hand squeezing your knee bringing you back to the world around you. You see GiGi’s hand retreating and her eyes filled with sorrow. You muster up a strained smile.
“Well, at least I had my dream girl for a moment even if it wasn’t real. Looking back, I kinda see now that she treated me like shit but I was so lost in her. I can’t believe I was so blind to her selfishness. And now this…I don’t think I ever really knew her at all,” you say somberly.
Alex let out a deep sigh, “Dude I don’t really know what to say. She did really shitty things but maybe she's not a shitty person. The moments you had together weren’t all fake. The parts of herself she showed you are probably real. And you can love those parts and still be hurt that she lied about her feelings for you.”
You give a weak chuckle, “You’re right..but I don’t know how to deal with this. I do still love her even if she used me. I see it so clearly now. I’m the back up plan. The person she really wanted hurt her so she chose the safe option.”
Gigi looked at you, her eyes filling with sorrow, “Sometimes people don’t know what they have until it's gone. She is making awful decisions and it’s hurting everyone around her. Deal with this by loving yourself first. I know it's hard but she doesn’t appreciate you. And only wants you when she has no one else.”
That was hard to hear but Gigi was right. You need to take care of yourself. For months you have been putting all of your energy into Anna. Being there for her emotionally, picking up her dry cleaning, giving her rides, and loving her to the best of your ability. All to realize that she never really cared about you, not even as a friend. A friend wouldn’t play with your feelings like this.
You continue to chat with your friends for a little while longer. Eventually you grow too sad and too tired to keep up the conversation. You excuse yourself for the night and head up to your bedroom. Not in the mood to do your night time routine you just chuck off your clothes, put your cellphone on your night stand and cuddle under the covers.
Your mind keeps turning in circles as you lay there. The happiness you had felt earlier today has turned into a deep sadness. And for the first time since Gigi told you about Anna you allow yourself to cry. As silent tears move down the contours of your face you burrow into your pillow; just praying to yourself that you can fall asleep. Anything to stop the pain.
You briefly wonder if Gigi’s friend Janine is in the same state you are right now. You know more than likely she is worse off than you. Janine's entire life is in shambles. Her husband is awful no doubt about it but you just can’t wrap your head around Anna getting involved with a married man. Nothing makes sense anymore but maybe you never had a clue to begin with.
#Scarlett johansson x reader#natasha romanoff#scarlett johansson#natasha romanoff x reader#he's just not that into you
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Hoii :) i saw that you liked making luci x reader mini stories and i LOVE THEM. I just have a tiny petite itty bity request for a new story. Id love to see either a story about him gicing us aome after care after spoicy time or apologizing after an argument. Take as much time as needed. Thank youuu <3
jealousy, jealousy ⊹ ࣪𐙚꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱。⋆
summary: you recently got a new job working for Voxtech, causing you to come home late nearly every day. Lucifer's a bit angry that you keep missing dinner, which sparks an argument (word count: 1.3k).
warnings: mentions of Valentino, arguing/yelling (obviously), crying, swearing, accusations of cheating, Lucifer's kind of a jackass in the beginning, mentions of death (reader talks about life when they were alive), generally gn!reader terms
a/n: hello!! this is a really cute idea so tysm for requesting it! i'm really sorry i haven't gotten to other stories, I've been so busy 😭
tags: (as always, just tagging a few people i think would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be on or off of the taglist!) @o-kye @zuuriell @strangleetomz@ax-y10 @stars-around-scars-collective@blu3-lemonad3@myheartticks@mochamuff1n@unbeleevable@danvstheworld @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @average-vibe @back-totheoldhouse @prettysinners @lovevxle
You recently got a new job at one of the largest companies in Hell, Voxtech, as Vox's secretary. When you got the job, you mainly wanted to do it because of the pay, thinking that you wouldn't have to do much as a secretary.
But boy, you were wrong.
You rarely sat down during work hours unless you were on lunch break, and even then Vox and other employees were asking you to come help, or Valentino was trying to persuade you to work for him for double the pay (you 'politely' declined every time). You were constantly printing and filing papers, answering calls to deal with angry customers or business meetings that Vox needed to attend, arranging those meetings and appointments, helping with report preparation for staff meetings (nobody really paid attention to them anyway unless Vox was threatening them to do so), managing databases, etc. You almost always worked overtime, which meant your nightly dinners with Lucifer seldom occurred; on the days you were off or didn't work overtime, you usually rested through half of it and didn't have the energy to eat or make dinner for the two of you.
Tonight was no different; you got home later than you usually did and were greeted by the sight of an angry Lucifer.
"Where were you?" he asked, his arms crossed. "Do you know how late it is?"
"Hi, honey," you said breathlessly, taking off your shoes and jacket. "I'm so sorry I got home late, Mr. Vox really needed me to finish up reports for the next staff meeting tomorrow and it was such a-"
"No, be honest," he interrupted. "Where were you?"
"In the...office," you said, raising a brow. "Where else would I have been?"
Lucifer scoffed. "Sure, sure."
"Lucifer, you know how he's making me work late," you sighed, dragging an aching hand down your face. "If I could come home earlier, I would, but Mr. Vox is a busy man."
"Busy with what?" Lucifer snapped, much to your surprise. "Adultery?"
"Honey, what are you talking-" you started.
"Don't 'honey' me," Lucifer laughed coldly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"You think I'm cheating on you with my fucking boss?" you said. "Really?"
"Yes, really," Lucifer mocked your tone. "I have eyes. I can see. Do you not see how he shows you off on TV? How he preaches about you at company gatherings and dinners? You two are fawning over each other, it's clear as day."
"Oh, so my boss isn't allowed to think I'm a good worker?" you said sarcastically. "Great, I'll make a note of that, thanks."
"Stop that, Y/N," Lucifer exclaimed. "Don't act like nothing is going on. He can tell people that you're a good worker without bragging about you like you're a trophy. He doesn't deserve to do that when he makes you work your ass off every day until the crack of dawn. If you're even working," he muttered.
"Look," you retorted, dropping your bag on the ground, "I'm sorry that I work late nights and that I can't have dinner with you every day. But you could at least be happy that I have such a good job. You can appreciate that I'm doing well at work and my boss likes me. That's not fucking hard. And, yeah, I am working, thank you."
"If you're actually working so late, why does he put his arm around you in interviews, hm?" Lucifer crossed his arms and stepped closer to you. "Why does he think he can touch you?"
"Jesus Christ, Lucifer, people are allowed to like me!" you exclaimed. "He does that with every worker there!"
"Yeah, sure, he's having an affair with every worker there," Lucifer said furiously.
"You really think I'd cheat on you?" you hissed, hot tears bubbling up in your eyes. "You sit there an-and talk about how it's good that we trust each other, yet as soon as my new boss likes me suddenly I'm a slut."
"I never called you a slut, Y/N," Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Don't be dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic!" you shouted, your face warm and sticky with tear streaks. "You are treating me like I'm a slut! Look, I'm sorry you're jealous, okay? But I'm pretty sure people aren't suspecting that I could potentially be having an affair with Vox because of how you act in public around me! People are putting too much attention on me and you to even think that!"
"That's rich coming from a world-class attention seeker," Lucifer shouted, freezing as soon as the words came out of his mouth. His eyes widened when yours did, and he looked like he'd just spewed out bile.
"No, wait, Y/N-" he started when he saw you put your shoes on and grab your bag again.
"No," you snapped, "clearly I'm not wanted here, so I'll go."
"I never said I wanted you to leave, sweetheart, please-"
"Don't call me fucking 'sweetheart'," you growled, glaring at him through glassy eyes. "And I can tell you don't want to be around a world-class attention seeker, so I'll leave and spare you." You walked out and slammed the door before he could continue, the sound of rain drowning out the sound. You muttered a "great" under your breath before walking out of the house and onto the sidewalk to pull out your phone to call someone.
"Hi, Y/N!" Charlie's voice rang through the speaker. "Did you need something?"
"Yeah, I need a ride," you tried to say calmly, but it came out strained and wobbly.
"Oh, I'm so so sorry, but I'm super busy right now and I can't drive over there," Charlie said apologetically, "but I could call Angel!"
"That works," you sniffled. "Thank you."
"Of course!" Charlie said sweetly. "Hope you feel better, Y/N!" The disconnect sound came through promptly after. You sighed and sat under an awning, shivering from your rain-soaked clothes. You slumped your head against a wall and cried softly, your eyes shut tight.
Around 15 minutes later, you felt warm, fluffy arms wrapping around you and Angel Dust's voice saying, "Hey, hey, you're okay, toots, let's get in the car and get you to the hotel." You took his hands and stumbled over to the car, slumping into the passenger seat.
"Trouble in paradise?" Angel asked, driving to the hotel. You nodded weakly. "You two will get over it. You're perfect for each other."
"I hope so," you sniffled.
The next day...
You heard a soft knocking at the door of the room you were sleeping in; it was Angel's room, but he'd gone to sleep in Husk's room so that you could have privacy.
"Come in," you said groggily, sitting up and finger-combing through your bedhead.
The door slowly creaked open, revealing a nervous Charlie and an even more nervous Lucifer (although his cheeks were rosy from seeing you so sleepy). Charlie pushed him into the room, gave you a thumbs up, and closed the door, leaving the two of you in the room, swallowed by the silence.
He hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers fidgeting with the fabric of the blankets. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yeah," you nodded. "I was cold for a little bit, but I slept fine."
"Your clothes got wet from the rain, I'm guessing?" Lucifer said.
You nodded. "Charlie put them in the wash, bless her heart," you chuckled. He chuckled lightly with you.
"I'm sorry," he blurted, taking your hands in his, "for everything I said. You didn't deserve a word of that. You're such a great worker and I'm so incredibly proud of you, sweet darling. You're not an attention seeker and I should've never even thought you would cheat on me."
"Thank you, Lucifer," you smiled. "I'm sorry for storming out on you without letting you apologize, that was unfair on my part."
"You had every reason to storm out on me," Lucifer said, squeezing your hands. "I'm surprised you didn't do anything else," he laughed.
"I wouldn't have the heart to do it," you returned with a laugh, his smile, that gorgeous smile, widening at the sound.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "Please, love, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just ask."
"Cuddles?" you grinned.
"That works for me," he laughed.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel 2024#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin hotel season 1#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin fandom#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar#lucifer hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer hazbin x reader#lucifer hazbin x you
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ಬ be quiet (or not)
pairing: non-idol!ten x fem!reader
genre: smut — mdni! wc: 953
contains: university au, sub!reader, usage of toys (vibrator), exhibitionism kink, dirty talk, light humiliation kink
[ wayv masterlist | general masterlist ]
“I will move my hand now,” Ten warns you, but his low voice with an evident sneering tone makes it sound more like a command than anything else; a command he knows you’d suck at following.
It sounds like I want to see you try and fail.
His bold eyes peer into yours in attempt to read your answer in the way they are glazed over with arousal. It’s a small plaything that’s working between your legs, but with a strong impact on your whole body, causing your gaze to be constantly refocusing on the view in front of you, more specifically on him from different angles as you’re locked inside the bathroom.
“You probably know how to keep quiet since you brought this little thing with you.” Ten’s hand retrieves and he cannot help but grin when he catches you desperately tucking your lip between your teeth to avoid making a sound the second he uncovers your mouth. “C’mon, tell me… Why do you have this in your bag anyway?”
The same warmth that overflowed your body when you ran into him on the stairs earlier spreads beneath your skin once again. How come you forget to zip up your bag once and out of all things you keep inside your vibrator is what falls out of it? And out of all people in this building he’s the one to witness it?
However, the feeling of indignity you suffered from in that particular situation which led to this present moment lingers differently now… and you’re enjoying it rather than wanting to escape from it.
“It’s just…” you speak up quietly, “I’ve been feeling stressed out lately.”
“So you hide and touch yourself in public?” His eyes widen with a sparkling glow, the same way they did when he picked up your toy to observe it up close. It’s a discreet size, but there was no way he could ignore it while helping you gather your stuff.
“I—“ you gulp after an unsuccessful attempt to respond. The effects of the vibrations are causing moans to rise into your throat. “I’ve never done it h-here. Just in my car.”
You look at Ten with more concentration after his finger lifts your chin higher. He’s attractive, he really is. Especially when he’s smirking at you condescendingly like that and you can’t do anything except anticipate his next move or his next teasing question.
The son of the dean of this university… If you could turn back time to tell your past self that one day you’re going to find yourself hidden in the campus bathroom with him while everyone else is in class you wouldn’t believe yourself.
“No, I get it, baby,” Ten nods as a gesture of rapport. “It’s exam season, that’s always stressful, isn’t it?” The artificial concern drips from his voice, erotic and tempting in a way you cannot describe.
The small space of the cubicle is making you both feel hotter and you can sense sweat growing on your neck as the buzzing sensation starts to burn in your core.
You move the vibrating head in a slow circle, doubling the pressure on your clit by pressing harder.
“I’m close—“ You whisper the same moment Ten leans in with a hand against the wall behind you where your figure is quivering from the approaching high.
His gaze lowers all the way down to your panties stretched from your ankles. They have a dark spot, a result from the few minutes you spent making out before he turned on your personal toy.
“I think I’m gonna keep those.” He says as you pant into his face; his expression changes into something completely new once your free hand grasps on his hoodie. He swallows the reckless urge forming inside him at the same pace as his erection throbs - stimulated even further from the pretty way you’re breaking down for his eyes only. “I want to make sure that you’re really gonna come over at my place tonight.”
A high pitched sound echoes throughout the tiled walls, but there was no time to prevent it as Ten’s fingers slip inside you without a warning, eager to speed up the process of reaching your climax, but also unable to stop wondering how you feel down there.
“Fuck—“ he mutters in one breath, guiding his lips against yours, but without actually touching them, “you’re perfect for my cock, pretty.”
“I will—“ you mewl in a delayed response while quickening the circles on your sensitive point. Your eyes are squeezed shut as your tummy tightens from the gliding movements that excite your walls with each rub.
“Good.” Ten chuckles amused by your reactions, by your neediness, before his voice turns firm again. “I’m gonna teach you how to actually keep quiet. A perverted girl like you needs a lesson or two.”
You’re unsure if it was just a coincidence or if his words were what pushed you over the edge, but seconds later, you cum around his curled fingers, making him snicker again; this time with your efforts to endure the sensation as calmly as possible which were quite pathetic.
“Tsk, almost got us caught.” He grabs your face with a quick domineering grip almost as if he wants to look at you carefully one more time so he can make sure he has all its details memorised.
Fortunately, the rush washed over you just in time for him to go.
In eight minutes lectures will start coming to an end, and as the son of the dean, he wants to save himself the trouble of being seen leaving the women’s bathroom with a boner and a pair of panties in the back pocket of his jeans.
! please do not repost, copy or translate my works
! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise for any mistakes i’ve might missed
#— writing: wayv#for all of you out there that are gonna be struggling with finals soon (if not already) you got this <3#wayv smut#nct smut#wayv hard thoughts#wayv hard hours#ten hard thoughts#ten x reader#nct x reader#wayv x reader#ten smut#nct hard thoughts
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— 𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹 ౨ৎ
itoshi rin x reader. 2k wc. ノ fluff ノ college au ノ reader wears a skirt ノ mentions of an injury + a little blood
you aren’t one to believe in silly superlatives, but the last few months have helped you understand why itoshi rin is regarded as the most unapproachable student on campus.
he works alone and during the moments when he’s required to collaborate, the man is incredibly blunt. outside of class, you rarely see him accompanied by anyone other than his team and even then he never seems thrilled to be around them. the aloof expression he constantly wears only solidifies everyone’s perception of him—everyone’s but yours.
you’re a firm believer that people are more than they let on and rin is no different. beneath his frigid exterior, there’s something more. at least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the last several weeks. if you weren’t convinced, how else would you explain your efforts of getting close to him?
you’re on a mission, one to see if you can chip away, thaw, the icy exterior that encases itoshi rin.
“rin!” you shout, but your call doesn’t elicit any sort of response—he doesn’t pause, doesn’t turn his head, just keeps walking as though your voice is nothing more than a gust of wind. his disregard fails to deter you as you pick up your pace to catch up with rin’s long strides. it takes a bit but when you finally do, you smile and link your arm with his. you look up at him before asking, “hey, didn’t you hear me calling your name?”
“i did. i was just ignoring you.” his teal eyes finally spare you a short glance before he’s shaking you off, pulling his arm out of your hold and stuffing his hand in the pocket of his long, beige coat. it’s you again, he thinks.
you remind him of something—a gnat, that’s it. small and bothersome but easy to swat away. though, just like them, you always seem to make your way back. he’s grown used to your repeated appearances, even if he finds them slightly inconvenient.
“this is why you don’t have any friends, you know.” you sigh, the stream of air that leaves your mouth visible as a foggy cloud in front of you. you peer up at him through your eyelashes. “you’re so cold.”
he’s silent in response to your statement and you expected as much. still, you send him a smile and continue talking. “i’m willing to look past that, though. what are you doing now?”
“going home.” rin hopes his answer is enough to dispel whatever thought is brewing in your head.
“perfect! so you’re free.” he turns to you with a frown. what part of “going home” gave you the impression that he had nothing else to do? “wanna go get sushi? it’s on campus so we wouldn’t have to go far.”
“no thanks.” he looks away to finalize his answer.
“aw, come on, rin.” if you’re going to get anywhere, you can’t keep letting him brush you off. “it doesn’t have to be sushi,” you try to bargain, but he doesn’t budge, only continues toward his destination.
maybe you should just drop it, try again another time, but your body has other ideas. you take a few quick steps forward so you’re standing in front of rin. you’re walking partially backward as your next words come out. “we can get whatever you w-”
the ground beneath your feet doesn’t feel as stable as it did a moment ago, it’s slippery now, enough to make you lose your balance. you slide forward on a patch of ice before the concrete is back under you. the bottoms of your shoes catch on the roughness of the ground, launching your forward. your knees and the heels of your palms skim the sidewalk, drawing a pained gasp from your lungs.
“shit, are you okay?” rin’s voice cuts through the air, and it’s closer than it was when you were upright. you turn your head to find his face right beside yours. his eyes are zoned in on your hands and you swear you can see a glint of concern pass over them.
“i’m fine,” you tell him, sitting back on your knees and painting on a smile to cover up the pain. you shake your hands at the wrist but the cool air only bites at your open wounds. “it just stings a little.”
you’re a lousy liar, rin thinks. did you think he wouldn’t notice the breath of air you sucked in just now? blue-green irises scan over your hands and knees. the fall was enough to tear your tights and break the skin. there’s blood slowly pooling from the surface of each scratch.
“come on,” rin sighs, straightening up and shrugging his coat off his shoulders. you stare up at him with lips parted in confusion. he jerks his head in a silent gesture for you to stand up.
“where are we going?” you ask, carefully boosting yourself up from off the ground.
“to my apartment.” he glances at your outfit before holding out his coat to you. “put this on.”
you want to ask him why but you figure your constant questioning will put him off. you keep your lips sealed as you accept his coat, slinging it over your much thinner zip-up. your eyes dart back to where he’s standing—or where he was standing. he’s not there anymore but it only takes a tilt of your head to find him. he’s bent at the knee in front of you and his arm reaches over his shoulder to pat his back. “get on.”
your eyes widen in a mixture of surprise and triumph. the gesture itself catches you off guard—before now, it was hard to ever picture rin being so… helpful, chivalrous. on the other hand, this is the first of what you hope becomes many wins in your pursuit of melting away what you think is his frosty façade.
a quiet laugh pushes past your lips as you bend down to wrap your arms around rin’s neck. he hooks his hands under your knees, a low grunt rumbling in his chest as he rises up from his position.
you can’t help but think it would be a lot colder if you weren’t wearing rin’s coat. maybe you should have taken a look at the weather before you decided to put a skirt on this morning. it’s only then that it strikes you—he didn’t give you the jacket to keep you warm, he gave it to you to keep you covered. if the length of the outerwear wasn’t draped over your legs, this piggyback ride would be a lot more compromising.
your cheeks and the tips of your ears are flaming hot compared to the nip of the cold air. you aren’t sure if you’re flustered because of the close call or the fact that rin was attentive and considerate enough to protect your decency. he’s a lot more thoughtful than he puts on.
despite your fall being entirely unintentional, you have to say, the timing couldn’t have been better. the walk to rin’s apartment isn’t far at all and if you hadn’t found a way to stop him, you wouldn’t have gotten through to him today.
with you still on his back, rin fishes out his keys from his pocket, sticking one into the keyhole and twisting until a click signals that the front door is unlocked. you can’t see far into the apartment over his shoulder, but the kitchen and the little glimpse of the living room are exactly what you expected—neat. there are no dirty dishes littered about the counters and the blanket hanging over the back of the couch is tidily folded.
the bathroom is directly to the right of the entrance and rin nudges the door open with his foot to allow the both of you in. he kneels in front of the toilet, setting you down on the closed lid. you survey the scratches on your palms as rin washes his hands and grabs the first-aid kit he keeps under the sink. he kneels down in front of you to start treating the scrapes on your knees.
the process is a silent one, rin’s focus solely on cleaning your wounds. the silence makes you want to squirm but the thought of being reprimanded by rin keeps you glued to your spot. his presence is always overwhelming but much less so when it’s accompanied by conversation. so, you speak, “this is your fault, you know.”
he stills for a split second before continuing, but you don’t miss the way his eyebrows knit together. “how is you slipping my fault?”
you bite your lip to hold back a laugh. the empty statement was merely a poor attempt at filling the silence, but you’re beginning to think that you can use this to your advantage. “i was just trying to be nice and invite you out. if you agreed to lunch with me, this all would have been avoidable.”
rin clicks his tongue. he knows what you’re doing; you’re trying to guilt trip him, make him feel bad. and he does, he recognizes—but not for the reasons you think. he’s never been particularly benevolent but something drove him to act today, something he can’t quite put his finger on. all he can say for sure is that he wouldn’t be doing this for just anyone.
“don’t worry, though.” your voice brings rin back to reality from his thoughts. his teal gaze lands on your face and you smile. it’s pretty, the thinks, but there’s a gleam in your eyes that isn’t as sweet. “i know how you can make it up to me.”
“am i not doing that now?” he asks as he finishes bandaging your second knee.
you ignore his question, holding your palms up at rin’s nod toward them. “i’ll forgive you if you take me up on my offer. going out for lunch, i mean.”
a gnat. persistent and pesky.
“what makes you think i want your forgiveness?” his words, the bluntness of them, starkly contrasts his touch. the lithe finger applying antibiotic ointment to your torn skin is gentle, tender even.
“maybe you don’t,” you hum curiously. you were sure he would have given in by now but his resolve was starting to seem unbreakable. there’s one strategy you have left, one you were hoping you wouldn’t have to turn to. although, you suppose you could always go back on your word. and rin didn’t have to know that.
you clear your throat resolutely in hopes that your next statement comes out smoothly. “i’ll leave you alone if you humor me this once.”
rin almost snorts. he highly doubts that will be the case with your track record and all. despite his skepticism, he doesn’t immediately jump to rejecting you and the lack of a prompt “no” surprises you both.
rin sticks the last square band-aid to your hand while he contemplates your proposal. something about this unplanned interaction has surfaced unfamiliar feelings from the depths of his heart. he still doesn’t understand why he decided to lend you a helping hand, but he figures there must have been a reason—one that he’ll come closer to finding out if he swallows his pride and agrees to your outing.
“fine.” he sits back on his heels, letting his hands rest on his thighs.
you blink at the one-word answer. “fine?”
“that’s what i said.” rin stands up from his place on the floor and starts toward the door. he looks over his shoulder to see you still seated. “come on before i change my mind.”
it would be dumb of you to miss this opportunity—the one that you had sacrificed your physical well-being and a pair of cute tights for—all because you’re awestruck. so you quickly stand and scurry over to rin with a satisfied grin.
you can feel him tense beside you when you loop your arm through his once more. “i knew you’d warm up to me.”
thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎
#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock#itoshi rin x reader#rin x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#itoshi rin fluff#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#rin fluff#bllk drabbles#blue lock drabbles
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