#if you notice a problem with the perspective or anything no you didn't
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
acoustic-eel · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
feeling extremely normal about 'chester' and 'norris', as you can see
5K notes · View notes
resu-w-ana · 5 months ago
Text
Merlin noticed it soon after the magic ban was lifted.
Every time someone used magic around Arthur, the king flinched.
Really, Merlin wasn't expecting Arthur to embrace all magic users with love and trust. He really shouldn't do something stupid like that.
He wasn't sure if Arthur knew about his own reaction or not. It hurt nonetheless.
Constant paranoia and perspective to be burned alive took the best of his desire to show people his magical talents. But the freedom was intoxicating, and whatever Arthur was afraid of magic or not, he would never took it's freedom again.
He had enough work as newly appointed Court Sorcerer to not let his magic idle. The knight and Gwen were here to enjoy pretty tricks too.
So Merlin reduced his magic around the king to doing only necessary things.
Making Arthur comfortable were more important than Merlin's desire to enjoy the beauty of magic with his king.
But the problem accrued from where he least expected.
«Why won't you use magic?»
«I- Ehm, It's possible to do without magic just as easy.»
«I saw you moving dinner plate because you were to lazy to stretch yesterday.»
«I thought I was alone! How do you even know that? Were you spying on me?»
«Oh, come on, Merlin. As if you are that interesting. Doors were open, I was just passing by.»
Even if doors were open, Arthur couldn't accidentally catch him, considering the fact, that there was only one way to Merlin's tower.
Arthur's weird explanation aside, the crisis was averted.
Or so Merlin thought. Because Arthur hadn't stopped.
Every time Merlin did something remotely hard by his hand, Arthur asked the same question: «why won't you use magic?»
Now Merlin was the one running out of weird explanations.
He had no desire to explain his reasoning to Arthur, nor asking Arthur for something he clearly wasn't comfortable with.
Merlin even paid attention to king behaviour around magic more precisely, in case it had changed. But no, the flinching was still there.
Contradicting his own reaction, Arthur cornered him with more determination them ever before.
«So tell me, why knights have no idea about yours so called "proper use of magic".»
«Well... They do know very little about proper use of anything. Especially Gwaine.»
«Yeah, Gwaine, who's apple your turned from green to red because he wished for another variety.»
«I-, Merlin started, as Arthur continued:
«Or should I mention fire figures you do for Leon constantly? The story about Lance's and Gwen's dinner table? Gaius' flying potions?"
Merlin felt guilt creeping onto him.
«Do I need to continue? Because I'm cer–»
«No! No! I got your point!»
«So?»
«So...»
«Explain yourself.»
When Merlin still hesitated, Arthur decided to use lethal weapon: «you promised no more secrets.»
Merlin deflated. «It's not a secret.»
«Then tell me.»
«I've noticed you've tensed whatever magic was around. Decided to spare you the trouble.»
«Oh.»
Suddenly, Arthur wasn't angry anymore. He looked sad and... Guilty?
«It's okay» and «I'm sorry» they said at the same time, than stared at each other.
«You have nothing to be sorry for!» Merlin argued.
«It's not nothing and it's not okay!» Arthur replied.
«That's why I didn't want to tell you! Now you feel like you're doing something wrong or not enough or whatever!»
«Well, that's because I do!»
«No, you're not!»
Arthur sighed. «Look, Merlin... You're not wrong, magic does make me nervous. For all my life, every time someone used it, it was with intention to hurt me.»
He stopped, thinking about his next words. «You are an exception. Yours feel safe.»
«Safe?»
«I don't know how to describe it. It feels warm and... safe. I like it. And I like watching you do magic, too.»
«Oh.»
«Yeah.»
«I'm sorry.»
Arthur smiled. «You can repent your crimes by stopping hiding your magic from me,» he said in playfully serious tone.
Merlin smirked. «Of corse, sire. What would you like to watch now?»
983 notes · View notes
shun-nie · 1 year ago
Note
Hii!! If you dont mind writing something dark. Can you write satosugu with reader who often gone because she is sort of depressive and just want to run away. Reader is cool and collected in outside but never really expressed anything about herself. Thank youu in advanced
SatoSugu x reader
->You're a grade 1 sorcerer, and literally bestfriends with everyone. The problem is, you never smile. Nah, that's not your thing. But you can understand everyone, and look from their perspective before comforting them. You're a close friend of theirs, but how come they don't know anything about you??
Warnings!!!! Dark themes, gn!reader, mentions of suicide and death, swearing!!!!
Tumblr media
"Man, where is Y/N? It gets boring when they're not around." Satoru sighed and pouted, not liking the silence in the room.
"That's for you to ask and nobody to know." Shoko replied with a bored tone, she was used to you disappearing out of nowhere. Now, don't get her wrong. She is worried about you, and she actually tried to search for you one time, but couldn't find you even if she was looked around for 3 hours.
Suguru was looking at the floor with an unreadable expression, the trio was just sitting around and doing nothing other than joking around with eachother. But Suguru felt off, one month ago, as everyone was hanging out together, Haibara said he never saw you smile. You just shrugged and told them "There's nothin' funny.", then Satoru and Haibara teamed up to make you smile, making dumb expressions and making Nanami sigh out of disappointment. ((It didn't make you smile at all.))
Suguru started to notice; how you would look out of window deep in thought, how you would disappear after the missions, how you would stare with an unreadable gaze when Suguru and Satoru laughed at their own jokes. Suguru opened up about this to Satoru, and he said he saw you sitting with your head down with fists clenched once. Now, Suguru was a smart man, he could connect the dots but he couldn't understand you. Not when he doesn't even know when your birthday is—
Wait.
"Do you guys know Y/N's birthday?" Suguru suddenly asked, Satoru and Shoko shared a look before opening their mouths to reply—
Wait, did you ever mentioned your birth date?
"...I..don't.." Shoko felt ashamed, beacuse you knew everything about her. How she liked her coffee, which foods she prefered, the clothes she liked to wear, the movies she liked to watch..and she doesn't even know your birthday? Satoru was wearing a similar expression, he actually opened up to you about his problems. How everyone was expecting him to be the best, how he felt too much pressure on his shoulders, how people didn't see him as Satoru but as Gojo. You comforted him, you put yourself in his place and both of you talked shit about higher-ups for the next hours. Then you turned to him and said :
"People sucks, the only thing they know is how to talk. You could feel like you're the only one and nobody is there for you, but you're not alone Satoru."
Oh how great he felt after you said those words, he noticed you were actually very good at empathizing. Probably the only thing he knows about you besides your name and age.
"I can't believe after all these years, the only thing we know about them is that their name and age." Satoru said, looking at the ceiling. Suguru sighed and texted you for the 28th time, you didn't respond, you never did.
"I think we need to confront them about it, maybe there is something going on that they can't bring themselfs to tell us." Suguru said, looking up from his phone to see his friends. Shoko sighed and shook her head.
"Maybe If you two are the ones confront them, I think they're closer to the both of you than us." Shoko said, lighting up a cigarette. Suguru and Satoru shared a look before nodding, they were going to talk about this when they had the chance.
.
.
.
"Where were you yesterday? We called you like, 40 times?" Satoru frowned, slightly glaring at you as he poked your cheek. Suguru nodded, wanting to hear your excuse too.
"My phone was on silent, I didn't really notice it." you said, clearly avoiding the real question. They both frowned, the three of you were sitting at a table, eating some snacks that you paid for. You came back after disappearing for 10 hours and they took the chance to talk about your problems, but there was an issue, you refused to tell them anything about yourself.
"And? Where were you when you were not at school? We even searched for you." Suguru said, watching as you sighed and took a sip of your cold water. You were clearly thinking of a way out of here.
"Does it really matter? Why are you asking me questions anyway, I thought this was a date and not an interrogation." you said, trying to cover yourself with a flirty sentence. To your surprise, it didn't work this time.
"Tell us the truth or I'm really going to use my cursed technique on your liar ass." Satoru said and rolled his eyes, you never saw him this serious. Ugh, these questions are really overwhelming you.
"..."
"Why the fuck do you want to know about me? It's really starting to get annoying."
They both stared at you with a 'don't give us that shit right now' stare, you groaned and looked at the ceiling. Thinking if you really should tell them, you really don't like to talk about yourself, and about your own problems? Ah, hell no. You don't want to open up to anyone until the day you die.
"After I use my cursed technique, well, it hurts me both physically and mentally I guess. I don't want to show that side of me to you guys so I just...hide. Where I go is none of your business." Their eyes widened, so that's why you always disappear after missions? Suguru was in deep thought, so that's why you didn't want to fight curses if not necessary. And why you always had a painkiller in your pocket. This was bad, why didn't they notice you were hurting? Were they that blind?
"Then why are you a jujutsu sorcerer you dumb fuck? You—You're an important friend to everyone in that damned place! What if you die beacuse of it, huh?!" Satoru shouted, he really wanted to punch you in the face so you would realize that—
"Do I look like I wanna continue living?" you asked, looking away from them. Fuck, you were not supposed to say that. Now they'll blame themselves beacuse they didn't notice it earlier or some shit like that.((they were actually blaming themselves))
"..."
There was a silence at the table for the next 2 minutes, both Suguru and Satoru looking at you with shock. Suguru wanted to speak, but he didn't know what to say. How could they help you in any way? You clearly didn't want to talk about it any more than it is. Satoru was having a hard time understanding what you meant, you always pushed people to not give up and talk about their problems beacuse 'It would hurt more if you bottled it up.'((your words, not his.)) So how come you made them fight for their life when you already gave up your own? Why did you lie?
"Idiot. You're a total idiot." Satoru said quietly then raised his hand and smacked your head, you were actually surprised, just as you raised your head to tell him to fuck off Suguru smacked your head too.
"What the-"
"And you still have the audacity to face us? Shit head." Satoru rolled his eyes and hugged you, his hold on you very tight. Suguru held your hand and squeezed it to give you comfort.
"You were there anytime we needed you, so let us do the same alright?" Suguru said as Satoru let go of you, you noticed his eyes were a bit teary. Suguru was smiling but you could tell he was sad you didn't told them anything. What was this? Were you actually feeling loved? Nah, that was not your thing. Then what was this warm feeling in your chest? Damn it, why did you felt like crying?
To both Suguru and Satoru's surprise, you laughed. You had a nice laugh, they thought.
"You both are—really making me feel fuzzy and soft." You smiled and hugged them both, Suguru chuckled and hugged you back as Satoru felt nice you ruffled his hair while you hugged him.
Everything was good for now.
.
.
.
((I'M SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO POST😭😭😭))
1K notes · View notes
saturnicos · 9 months ago
Note
Hi! Can you make a Hazbin Hotel Headcanons of how the characters would comfort a reader who is having a panic attack.
Yeah! Ironically, I had a pre-episode panic attack during a class today, writing this helped me avoid a meltdown.
Of course, if you wanted into a different perspective (or other characters, since I don't write many at once), feel free to tell me :)
HH cast comforting !reader having a panic attack
With: Charlie, Alastor, Lucifer, Adam, Angel Dust
Context: Panic attack can happen any time, without any motivation. Unfortunately, that's hits you more often than you would like. In a middle of a conversation with them, you start to feel anxious and afraid, eyes widening and an immense desire to cry appearing. How would them comfort you?
Tumblr media
. Charlie
— Oh! And I created a new plan that I would lik.. — Charlie interrupts herself as soon as she sees his eyes roaming the room, your leg shaking while the sound of your heartbeat was heard loud enough.
She knows that happens with some frequency and often is ready when happen. Actually, she's a bit imperative and has its moments of generalized anxiety; although it's not the same thing, it has a basis of what she can or cannot do to help you.
— Honey, look at me, please — She ask to you, holding your hand and looking at your eyes with a serious expression in her face. — It's ok, you'll be fine, you're safe with me. Now, breathe in and out with me.
She starts as an example, taking a deep breath through her nose and releasing the air through her mouth. Despite your mind clouded with fear and derealization, your eyes locked onto hers, unconsciously repeating what exercise she replicates, feeling your breathing regularize slowly, despite the tremor and fear continuing.
She smile at you, holding your hand with a little more strength and delicacy. She moves forward with her free arm at her side, asking for permission for a hug. You, without hesitation, allow it, approaching her and hugging her tightly, feeling her face resting above your head, allowing you to cry into her coat if you felt like you needed to.
— Don't forget to breath, it'll calm yourself. I'm here for you.
. Lucifer
He knows what gonna happen even before you. This man faces various emotional and psychological problems daily, he recognizes very well when someone seems to have a tendency to have a crisis. Especially coming from you.
The first thing he notices is your hand starting to shake and your eyes threatening to water. He's quick to cup your face with both hands, making sure you're looking and listening to him.
— Sweetie, hear me. — He asks in a gently voice, making sure not to get too close to you for fear that this would only trigger a sudden worsening of the attack. — Calm down, I'm with you, there's anything here that can hurt you.
Even with his supportive phrases, your tremor only got worse as your blood pressure only tended to drop, slowly obscuring your vision and slowing down your breathing.
— Here — His voice echoed in your mind, as if partially clearing the intrusive and distressing thoughts. An angelic voice. — Can you tell me five things in this room, please?
You didn't know from where this come, but tried to see something even with a bad vision. And you did it. Then he asked for four things that you could touch. After three that you could hear, after...
When you came to, out of the derealization, you noticed the tactic that he used to calm you down: 5-4-3-2-1, a way to distract the mind of fear to understand what was around you, consequently making you come to your senses when you noticed the space.
He also noticed as your breathing returned to normal and your body gradually shook less and less, smiling at you tenderly.
. Adam
He's a bitch. A fucking bitch.
At first, when he sees your eyes watering in the middle of the conversation he will think that some comment or joke of his got to you, and sincerely? He'd probably find it funny that you're bothered by this at this point.
— What's up, bitch? That wasn't even that aggressive — He responded in a mocking voice, leaning across the table toward you. His tone of voice was filled with a visible desire to laugh.
However, when he noticed that you ignored his comment and were shaking unnaturally, the expression on his mask changed to one that alternated between doubt and amazement.
The mask's mouth constantly opened and closed, as if he were interrupting whenever he thought about commenting on something.
— Fuck — He sighed heavily as he let out an audible curse, getting up from his seat and heading towards him, but stopped next to you when he noticed that he was a piece of shit with emotional comfort, especially with words of affirmation.
With an expression of uncertain, he took off his terminator mask and threw it on the table, looking at the office door, confirming that there was no one there that could burst into the room.
He then crouched down next to you, watching you cover your face with hands shaking, stifling a sob. Not really sure what do, he brought his hand to your back, patting it friendly as a strange way of showing support, since 1. he didn't know how to verbalize it and 2. he couldn't do it. But deep down he would like to try and provide some kind of support.
— I have no fucking idea how to help you, but... You know, if you need a shoulder, you've got me.
. Angel Dust
He knows what it's like to have an emotional breakdown and derealization, after all, it is something that constantly impacts him almost always after the work.
Despite the solution he always seeks for himself be the use of medication and perhaps a little alcohol, he would never make that an option for you since he doesn't want to inflict drug use on you. Health reason.
— Baby, is a hug okay? — he asks you in a compassionate tone, bowing his head slightly to the side as he raised his left hand to rest it on your shoulder.
When you nod, he wraps you in a hug with all four of his arms. A comfortable but not strong hug, allowing you to leave if you wish.
— You need to stabilize your heart rate, you know? Do what I do — He then took a deep breath for a few seconds and then let it out, repeating the process two more times before encouraging you to try.
You snuggled into your spot on the couch trying to control the shaking and tears as you repeated breathing exercise with difficulty. At first it was painful and burned your lungs, but Angel advised you to try again as soon as you felt like you could try.
— I don't have work today, how about a movie? I promise it won't be any of my big movies, your choice. — He laughed quietly, trying to lighten the sad mood with a light dirty joke as he picked up the controller. When he could hear a low chuckle from you, his smile grew.
. Alastor
He literally has no idea what happened to you. Alastor died before psychology studies were taken seriously, and particularly he was never someone very social or interpersonal, then see you having a mental imbalance suddenly was ridiculously weird.
He just stood there looking at you with that stupid smile on his face, trying to find some logic behind your attitude so that he could do something about it.
After a given moment thinking, in a snap of his fingers he manifested a tea set in the center table in the room. However, the withering smell of coffee took its place when he took one of the cups for himself and offered another one for you - one that smelled like valerian, a plant that helped with irregular heartbeat.
He looked at you as he sipped his own cup of black coffee with legs crossed, as if waiting for you to go ahead and drink the tea.
You then gave in and drank, pouring a few drops into your lap due to tremor. The tea actually wasn't that bad. As soon as he passed by your throat, the effect seemed to have already begun, gradually relaxing your muscles and calming your fear.
Along with the feeling of relaxation, an aroma of oils penetrated the room, making a combination in the air of more diverse aromas and smells in a pleasant mix.
By your side, Alastor beamed a satisfied smile as he helped himself to more coffee, talking to you again, occasionally asking if you wanted more tea or if you felt okay.
Tumblr media
I love sm write comfort, but thinking about the angst before is painfully sad//
Thank you for read, have a good day or a good night :)
406 notes · View notes
harmonysanreads · 6 months ago
Note
WILL SETHOS JOIN THE LOVE HEXAGON??? (heptagon???)
IM SO EXCITED FOR A NEW SUMERU BOYYY, honestly missed Sumeru sm, so glad to see my babies again (+ new friend!!! or foe? idk can't wait for Cyno's SQ :ppp)
Ohh, I have been thinking, thinking and thinking about this matter ever since he was introduced. But I waited till Cyno's story quest to reach a conclusion.
[ au masterlist ]
Tumblr media
Based on my observation, Sethos is well-spoken, quite charismatic and even though he may appear to be suspicious at first, he's actually a good person. A very promising leader who's determined to not be bound by the past, but, he's still on the path of understanding himself. There are many things he isn't certain of and I'm sure there are insecurities that plague him because of the divergence between him and Cyno. He does have the potential to be part of this chaos as a love interest, but I'm more interested in introducing himself as a red-herring.
[ Spoilers for Cyno's Story Quest Under the Cut ]
We do know that Sethos visited the tavern within Sumeru city and stayed for a while. In this case, him meeting you and having a casual conversation isn't that difficult. Perhaps you noticed that beneath the easy-going veneer, he's inherently troubled. Sethos will not share everything about his life on the first chat, yes, but he does seem like the perceptive kind. So, just you asking him would linger in his mind.
Now the problem starts with Wanderer noticing this transaction and if he was still thinking from the perspective of the past, he would've just ignored this. But seeing as how things with Kaveh turned out, he was determined to not have a repeat. So, he threw his fists the moment Sethos ventured out from watchful eyes.
Not the most elegant solution but it appealed to him the most at that moment. Unfortunately, as Sethos is in possession of one of the Ba Fragments, he managed to put up quite the fight and also discovered that the sweet-child behavior Wanderer dons in front of you is a facade. Wanderer wasn't panicked though, you don't even believe Cyno's accusations against him, Sethos convincing you is a far away dream.
Speaking of Cyno, Cyrus's case had to be the talk of the Akademiya by then, which our dear Wanderer caught on to. Luck does shine upon everyone and it didn't take long for Wanderer to devise a new plan. While Alhaitham and Kaveh were figuring the case out by themselves, Wanderer snuck in a picture of Sethos within the act, you, the unfortunate student and Sethos himself caught in one frame. How he got the picture is unimportant. As per Wanderer's expectations, Cyno assumed that the perpetrator of the scheme (Sethos) was planning on harming you as well and he immediately set off towards the desert. Seeds of further conflict successfully sown.
And the rest happened in the same sequence, except Sethos and Cyno's fight might've been more intense. While Wanderer may have made a good move this time, he still left himself bare to another eye. Sethos's arc is far from completion, so the chances of him cooperating with Cyno to expose Wanderer have been raised.
In conclusion, Sethos will not be an immediate love interest but he definitely will work in your interest in the future. The reason why his status is still uncertain is because of his unfinished arc. Hm. Maybe he might just manage to overthrow everyone else and win you in the end? Anything is possible :>
Tumblr media
266 notes · View notes
aperrywilliams · 7 months ago
Text
It Was Horrible Until It Wasn't (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
Tumblr media
------------------ 
Author Masterlist
------------------
Part 1: If Anything I Find It Educative
Part 2: It Was Horrible Until It Wasn’t
Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case
------------------
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.
Summary: Reader comes up to her apartment after Spencer walks her home from the diner, where they spend the last couple of hours. She is still processing the night and wonders if they will meet again. Another fortuitous event makes that happen. In which terms they will part ways again?
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Mention of guns (tests to carry a gun). Mention to Reader's ex. Some strong words? IDK what else. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: I got very excited after your reactions and comments to "If Anything, I Find it Educative." So this is kind of part two, from Reader's perspective. I'm not convinced about a series yet, even if I have some ideas. What would you like to see if it happens?
-----
Reader's POV
-----
As I open the door, a bunch of cardboard boxes scattered on the floor greets me. That reminds me that I haven't unpacked all my things yet.
I've only been living here for two weeks, and I'm still getting used to the idea that this is my new home. 
It doesn't feel like it yet. 
But the boxes will be a problem for tomorrow. Now, I only want to take off these high heels and this fancy dress and call it a night - a pretty eventful night.
Not only did I have to confront my ex with his new girlfriend, but I also had to pretend I was okay with it. But how did I expect to do that? Did I genuinely think two months would be enough to be outside again to prove I got myself up? 
How naive of me.
I make a beeline to my bedroom, not even bothering to look at the rest of the apartment.
Again, it's tomorrow's problem.
Retreating my phone from my purse, I plug it to charge over my bedside table as I strip from my clothes and go to the bathroom to do my nightly routine.
The entire time, my mind doesn't stop wandering. At some point, it settles on the girl I helped from choking. It was a total coincidence for me to be there. I only approached the bar for another drink when I heard that man rambling. I don't know why my ear perked up, but it did. When I look to find the voice's source, my eyes land on the man and the girl by his side.
He was talking as if the world would end if he didn't, and the girl only eyed him from head to toe, clearly not giving a damn what he was saying. I kept subtly listening to them while sipping my drink. The guy's voice had something enchanting. I would have heard him talk for hours if it were from me. It was a bad thing his interlocutor wasn't so receptive, and when she occasionally said something, it was a flirting remark that only made him uncomfortable. 
What a shame.
When I noticed her fighting to breathe, swatting her hands in desperation, and the poor guy froze on the spot, I knew I needed to do something.
I didn't think much of it and wrapped my arms around her torso to help her. It worked. The oyster she choked with flew into the air, and she could breathe again.
But the next thing I knew, her palm connected to the man's cheek.
The poor guy seemed so confused, and the people talking around didn't help either. What a shitty situation. And as the good citizen I am, I tried to do something about it, only to get lashed out by the same woman I just saved from choking.
Fuck it. 
Seeing the people's attention returned to them, I walked away. That wasn't my fight in the first place.
Returning from the bathroom, I hear my phone ding. It's a text from my friend Andie.
Andie: How did the gala turn out? Did you see him? He was with her, right?
Andie had insisted on me not going to the gala, although I repeated to her several times that it was okay, that nothing would happen, and that I couldn't hide forever.
Me: You were right. I wasn't ready.
It's a defeat I must recognize. I wasn't prepared to see them.
Andie: My girl, I'm so sorry. It must have been awful for you.
It was, but it doesn't mean the night was a disaster.
Me: It was horrible until it wasn't. I can tell you more tomorrow. Now, I only want to go to bed.
Andie: You have me a bit confused here, but okay. I'll call you tomorrow. Sleep tight; I love you.
I return my phone to the charger and slip under the covers.
It was horrible until it wasn't.
I keep thinking about that. And a smile tugs the corner of my lips. Since Spencer - the guy who got slapped by the oyster-choked girl - approached me at the terrace, the night wasn't that awful anymore.
Who would have thought I would end my night in a diner, dressed to the nines and spouting details of my messy life to a stranger?
-
Monday morning comes faster than I wanted. 
I spent my Sunday mostly unpacking boxes and tidying my apartment, and now, with a coffee in hand, I cross the hall to my office on the third floor of the FBI building in Quantico.
Some colleagues greet me as I pass by. I return them with a polite smile. I saw a couple of them at the gala on Saturday. I only hope they didn't notice the wreck I was that night.
On my desk, a pile of hundreds of manila folders are waiting for me.
This Monday will be a blast.
Dutifully, I reach for the first folder to start my work, as my ear perks up to two colleagues' conversation about the gala.
"Did you see them? Those hot chicks from Counterterrorism?" a male colleague says to another.
"Yeah. I heard one of them was hitting on Reid from the BAU. What a waste!" The other adds.
"And the lucky bastard wasn't able to take her home. His nerdy charm didn't even help him with that."
The mention of the BAU brings Spencer to my mind again. And I realize I don't even know his last name. 
I don't think I need to know, but I can't stop my fingers from typing 'Spencer FBI BAU' on my computer.
My findings make the conversation between my colleagues intriguing. They were precisely talking about Spencer, Spencer Reid, and the girl with him at the gala. Clearly, the incident did not go unnoticed.
I don't like the tone they refer to him, either. I do not know the guy well, but I'm sure he's way better than any of the men at the venue that night.
Are you hearing yourself (Y/N)? That kind of blind trust put you in this situation with your ex in the first place.
I shouldn't grant credibility so fast, but honestly? Spencer seems to be everything but a threat. The things he said, the way he spoke. Anyway, I should stop thinking about that if I want to finish some work. Yeah, that's what I need to do.
Drowning out the noise, I return to the opened folder and continue working.
Some would ask how a task as monotonous as the one I'm doing now could be appealing to someone. The appeal for me comes from how everything fits in the right places and serves a purpose. That's enough for me, even if some people don't understand it.
My ex didn't. And as him, many others.
I'm still fighting to ease the effects their judgments had on me.
Around lunchtime, stopping the papers review, I pick up my phone to check my messages. Yesterday, I promised Andie I would have lunch with her today, so I'm checking for her confirmation and a place to meet.
Just in time, a text comes. She is free right now and suggests a restaurant just outside the building.
"Hey, girl! I'm glad you made it," she greets me as I spot her on one of the tables.
"Of course. I promised I would."
Lunchtime is only one hour, so we order quickly and go straight to the matter.
"I can't believe the son of the bitch decided to go and show off his new conquest," Andie huffs.
"Not that new, considering she has been sleeping with him in what used to be my bed at least a month before I discovered it," I correct with an annoyed look.
It's good to say these things without crying my eyes out anymore.
I tell Andie more details about how it went to share a space packed with mutuals around us and try to stay composed.
"But at some point, I just couldn't. So I retracted to the bar. I only wanted to grab a drink and be alone."
Andie nods in understanding.
"I don't blame you. So you were at the bar when you crossed to the girl to whom you did Heimlich?"
Yesterday, by phone, I told Andie the main facts regarding that, and after laughing for a solid five minutes about the whole ordeal, she made me promise to reveal more details in our lunch meeting.
That's why I'm describing what happened piece by piece.
"She slapped the guy? And she yelled at you? What a bitch! But I don't understand why he apologized on her behalf."
"Honestly? I didn't understand it, but it made sense after talking with him. The guy felt responsible, even if it wasn't related to him. It was the fact that someone had to do the right thing," I explain, with my eyes fixed on my water glass, recalling Spencer's words from that night. 
I can't help but feel some fondness for his genuine worry. Andie raises an eyebrow and hums.
"The guy made a good impression on you, I see."
Andie's tone is teasing, and I know exactly where she is heading.
"Come on, don't start with that," I warn her. I'm not thoroughly annoyed, but I'm not in the mood for teasing. Andie scoffs.
"I'm just saying it's good to know there are men out there that give hopes up. That's all!"
"Sure," I mumble, not very convinced by her explanation.
The rest of our lunch follows a similar tone. When I finish telling Andie about Spencer walking me home, I know she is biting her tongue to say something to taunt me, but she holds back and opts for a question.
"Do you think you'll see him again?"
I ponder my answer. I don't know, although I remember Spencer asking, 'See you around?'
That doesn't mean we agreed to see each other again, even if I said, 'Sure, why not?' 
Did Spencer mean that? Did he want to see me again?
"I don't know. Maybe. We both work in this building, so there are chances, I guess," I shrug. Andie narrows her eyes.
"But do you want to?"
That's a question I don't know how to answer, so I take some seconds to think about it.
"Let's say I'm not opposed to the idea."
A reply that could be an understatement. But not I'm telling Andie that.
She doesn't press on the matter, though. And I'm grateful she doesn't.
Now it's time to go back to work. We walk out of the restaurant to our building and separate ways at the elevator. Andie continues to the eighth floor when I hop off on the third.
Returning to my desk, I continue checking the folders piled on my desk, and my mind only focuses on that, knowing if I don't, there is no chance of getting this stack finished.
----
A good thing about the week progressing is nobody talking anymore about the damn gala. It's been a nightmare since Monday when everyone had to mention something about it. That included comments about me facing my ex there. 
Of course, it was public knowledge I was dating an agent of the Criminal Investigative Division. Also, it became public knowledge he cheated on me with his current girlfriend from Counterterrorism.
But finally, it is Thursday, and everything seems to have returned to normal, so much so that the amount of work has increased exponentially. That's why I'm still at the office at seven pm.
I only assume it's time to go home when my boss pokes out of his office and calls for Andrew, one of our coworkers who distributes files and memos to the other departments.
I turn around, and it's only me at this hour. My boss notices the vacant office and is now talking to me.
"I guess I have to ask you to do this. Can you go to the sixth and drop this to Aaron Hotchner's office? I would have waited until tomorrow for Andrew, but this must be at his desk today."
I don't think I have a choice, so I pick the folder, promising to drop it before going home.
With my coat and purse, I grab the folder and stroll to the elevator.
I have been working here for four years and know every financial detail of each Quantico department, but I still need to recognize all department locations in this facility. So, floors are just floors, except the eight where Andie works.
Arriving at my destination, I walk into a bullpen, where I can see a lot of desks and offices. And just like my floor, it is almost empty. Anyway, I see one of the offices with lights on. My instinct tells me that's the place I'm looking for, and the plaque at the door confirms my suspicions: SSA Aaron Hotchner.
"Come in," a voice comes from the office when I knock.
Peeking inside, a stern-looking man is glancing in my direction. "Can I help you?" he asks with a slight frown.
"Yes, sir. I'm with the Finance Division, and my boss asked me to bring this to you," I explain as I reach out to hand him the folder. When he grabs it, realization washes over the man.
"Of course. Thank you very much-" Agent Hotchner trails off.
"(Y/L/N)," I supply, knowing he wants my last name.
"Thank you very much, Agent (Y/L/N)."
Weird. 
Everyone in the finance and administrative department refers to each other only by last name. We use the 'agent' thing mainly with those who do the fieldwork, and we are used to that.
"You're welcome, Agent Hotchner," I smile politely, ready to leave the man's office. He nods approvingly.
"Hotch, sorry for interrupting you, but I'm ready with my report. I thought you wanted it-"
A man talks, entering abruptly at the office. He stops in his tracks when he sees Agent Hotchner isn't alone.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were with someone. I can come back later," he apologizes.
Wait. I know that voice. 
I turn, and I see Spencer standing there. His eyes meet mine, and I feel my cheeks burn. He doesn't say anything but doesn't tear his eyes from mine.
I don't know how many seconds pass, but it's enough for Agent Hotchner to intervene.
"Reid?" he calls Spencer's attention.
"Uh?"
"The report. It's okay; you can give it to me," he tells Spencer, not without subtly bouncing his gaze between us.
"Oh. Okay." Spencer approaches Hotchner's desk, but he still directs glances at me. I want to say hi to him properly, but it doesn't feel okay knowing the man in front of us is undoubtedly his boss. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable. So, I take that as my cue to leave.
"If you excuse me," I tell Agent Hotchner, signaling my departure. Spencer looks at me, and I give him a subtle smile.
"Of course. Thank you again, Agent (Y/L/N)."
"To you, sir. Have a good evening."
I walk down the stairs to the open bullpen and toward the elevator.
Before I can push the go-down button, a voice calls my name. It's Spencer's.
"(Y/N), wait!"
I turn and see him trotting towards me.
"Hi!" he says once we are face to face.
Now I feel bad. Spencer comes here to say hi, and I didn't greet him properly just two minutes ago. 
"Spencer, hi. I'm sorry, I should have said something there, but I didn't know if you wanted him to know- I mean, I supposed he was your boss, and I-"
What's wrong with me? 
Why can't I explain myself without stumbling with my words?
"No. No. Don't apologize. It's okay. I should have told you something, too. But I didn't expect to see you here."
"Me neither. My boss sent me here instead of one of my coworkers, who left early. I didn't know this was the BAU floor. What a coincidence, uh?" I play cool, shifting my weight from one foot to another. Spencer nods in agreement.
"Totally. It's good to see you, though. I hoped we could cross paths again."
Isn't it weird that his words have produced a funny tingle in my stomach right now?
"Is that so?" I half-breath, noticing his cheeks turn a shade of pink.
"Yes. I mean, I truly enjoyed talking to you that night," he sheepishly admits.
I more than enjoyed it, Spencer.
"Yeah, me too."
Silence sets between us. And it's time to make a decision. I could say I go home and leave him with a lukewarm 'See you around,' or say I'm leaving, but before doing so, give Spencer my number so we can talk soon. Or...
"Are you busy right now? I'm heading home now, but if you can and want, we can go for a coffee."
Wow (Y/N). Very smooth. I like you smooth.
Spencer's eyes widened, and I wondered for a second if my offer was too straightforward.
"If you have plans, it's okay. We don't have to," I relent.
"Oh, no. I don't. And I would love to go for a coffee with you," Spencer hastens to say. I release a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"Yeah?"
"Sure! If you wait for me just a second, I'll pick my things from my desk, and we can go."
----
This time, it's my turn to pick the place.
It's a small coffee shop in the middle of Virginia, just mid-way between Quantico and my apartment.
As we get on the train, I ask Spencer about Agent Hotchner.
"Hotch? Well, he has been at the unit for twelve years now. Gideon, a former agent, told me once he didn't expect Hotch to last long in the BAU. But he proved him wrong. Indeed, Gideon left, and Hotch stayed. Honestly, I can't picture the BAU with another unit chief."
There is a fondness when Spencer talks about Hotchner. I can tell he sees him more than as a superior.
"What about yours?"
Now is my turn to talk about my boss.
"Agent Williams? He is a bureaucrat from head to toe. He had just transferred from another administrative department when I joined the financial division four years ago. At that time, he had ten years working with the FBI. The guy is a genius but lacks social skills. I'm not judging him; I'm a bit like him. But in his position, he needs to make politics, which involves talking and convincing people."
The conversation with Spencer flows so well and easily that I'm as impressed as I was the night of the gala. 
When we reach the coffee shop, we sit facing each other. After ordering our coffee, we start talking about our coworkers.
"So Garcia is our technical analyst. I have to say she is like the team's heart. Besides her outstanding skills, her compassion and care are something out of this world," Spencer admits, and again, I feel the fondness in his voice.
"She seems very special," I add. Spencer nods.
"Very. I don't know what it's like to have a sister, but if I had one, I would have liked someone like her.
So he doesn't have a sister. Does he have brothers, though? We have yet to talk about our families, so this is the first piece of information I get about it.
"What about the guy who came to check what was happening with your girl at the gala?" I ask, and Spencer scoff.
"First of all, Ashley isn't my girl. I think she made it pretty clear that night. And secondly, the guy in question is Morgan, the culprit of why I was with Ashley in the first place."
That's interesting. I want to know more about that.
"How is that?" I ask, sipping my coffee.
Spencer tells me how Morgan insisted they talk to the girls - Ashley and her friends - and how he reluctantly followed him.
I'm about to make a not-so-kind remark when Spencer gets ahead of me.
"I know it may seem like he is a thoughtless person, but he truly means well. I can't entirely agree with his tactics most of the time, but he's right when he tells me I should enjoy more and work less."
"It's safe to say you weren't 'enjoying' that much there," I quip, air-quoting the word 'enjoying.' Spencer chuckles.
"Yeah. Honestly? I have more fun when Morgan kicks doors down in our field chases than when he tries to play wingman for me."
What? Kick doors down?
"Wait a minute. Are you telling me that the FBI had to spend thousands of dollars in repairs for third parties last year because of him?"
I know I'm being dramatic. It's impossible that just one agent destroyed that amount of dollars by kicking doors. But still.
Spencer's eyes widen.
"What? No! I mean, yes. He does that, but thousands of dollars? Last time I checked, doors are not that expensive."
I roll my eyes. That's not the point.
"Okay. I know it's not only Agent Morgan's doing, but did you know the buro's budget had increased by 4% last year due to refunds for field operations? And did you know 70% of that increase refers to agents shattering private property?"
Now, I sound like my boss. Great. I became what I swore to destroy.
Spencer looks at me with amusement. I narrow my eyes to him. "What?"
He clears his throat. "Oh. No, nothing. It's just - well, it's fascinating to hear you talking about - uh - numbers."
I can't help but snort. "Come on, how fascinating that can be?"
Spencer grins. "If anything, I find it educative," he parrots my words from that night, and we fall into a fit of laughs.
"Yeah?" I muse after the laughter subsides. Spencer nods, still a smile gracing his face.
Gosh, that smile.
"Well, I can talk about numbers all day. But I'm sure you don't want me to 'fascinate' you that much."
Spencer hums, faking be pondering his options.
"Don't tempt me. I like to know and talk about everything. But before returning to numbers, I want to ask about your coworkers. I already talked much about mine."
Even if there is not much to say, indulging him with an answer is only fair.
"What can I say? In my area, there are three: Anthony, Leah, and me. We were four then, but Andie was promoted to the eighth floor a year ago. Anthony is a good guy, a little inexperienced, but very eager to learn. We don't have a very close relationship, but he's my protegee at work. Leah is very clever and has enough experience, but sometimes she is not present, making things a little tense between us. Andie is rightfully my friend. We got to the bureau simultaneously, and although she doesn't work with us anymore, we are very close."
Spencer is looking at me with full attention. It's odd to talk about this kind of thing with someone. I don't like to talk about my bonds in general. It makes me feel vulnerable. But for a reason that I still don't get, with Spencer, it feels right.
It's night already, and we are in our third coffee.
"Do you usually drink this amount of coffee daily at this hour? I try to cut off my dosis after lunch, but sometimes I just can't," I point as I stir the spoon on my coffee. Spencer hums.
"I drink a lot of it at any time of the day, every day. It's worse when we are on cases because that shitty coffee at the precincts should not even be called coffee," he scoffs, pouring half of the sugar pot into his cup.
I have already noticed the amount of sugar Spencer has used in his two previous coffees; this third is not the exception.
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask," I say as my eyes dart to his sweet liquid. He follows my line of sight and chuckles.
"I love coffee, but I don't like its bitterness. I know it doesn't make sense, but for me it does."
"Fair enough."
After that, our conversation stumbles to lousy sleep habits.
"Ray hated it. Even once, he told me I purposely got up in the middle of the night to annoy him."
Spencer's brow furrows.
"Ray is your ex?"
Shit. I don't realize I'm talking about him.
Why do I have to mention him? I hate how ingrained he is still in my life.
"Yeah, Raymond. No wonder why things didn't work out between us," I try to joke because I don't want to cry about it anymore.
"An example of a man," Spencer follows my lead, and I'm grateful he doesn't look at me like people usually do when I talk about it. There is no pity. There is no that look saying, 'Oh, poor girl who got cheated on.' It's like a whole understanding. It doesn't make me feel like a failure. And that's a change—a good one.
I chuckle. "Hell, he is."
It's getting late, and it's time to part ways, even if I don't want it. Hours pass quickly with such good company.
"We should get going. It's late," I point as I glance at my phone. Spencer nods in acknowledgment, signaling the waitress to get the check. He is about to fish his wallet when I stop him.
"No. Don't do that. I invited you."
Spencer scoffs, opening his wallet nonetheless. 
"No way. You invited me the other night. You can do it next time."
Next time, uh? I want to say something teasing, but the waitress returns with our check.
We are outside the coffee shop now. I adjust my coat as Spencer does the same with his suit jacket. The night is chilly, and the contrast with the warmth of the coffee shop is evident.
"Can I walk you home?" He offers. I have my doubts about that. It's not that I don't like the idea; I just don't want to use more of his time.
"You don't have to. Really," I shake my head.
"Please? You already said it. It's pretty late," he insists, looking at me with dog puppy eyes. 
Why is he doing that? He is testing my resolve.
"You know I can take care of myself, right? I'm a certificated FBI agent. I can't carry a gun, but sure I could manage," I argue in a teasing tone. Spencer chuckles.
"I know you are. And I'm sure you could. Even though, why no to prolong our evening for fifteen minutes long?" I raise an eyebrow.
"So you really like my company, uh?" 
I'm sure I see a blush creeping his cheeks, and it's endearing.
"I like your company. I thought I made it pretty clear the other night?" he probes. And I don't know how to respond to that.
The truth is quite curious. Teasing Spencer seems so natural sometimes, but now I don't know what to say.
I decide not to say anything and nod, motioning for us to start walking.
Spencer follows me, and we walk in silence for the first block. Then, I feel the need to continue our conversation. I want these fifteen minutes to be as good as the previous two hours.
"Did you know that I used to carry a gun? Although it took me three failed tests to do so."
Spencer looks at me, surprised. I take that as my cue to tell that story.
Once I tell him how I finally managed to pass my shooting test, he starts telling me how he also failed his test a couple of times.
"So you saved your boss life shooting an unsub?" Spencer nods.
"But I really aimed to his leg, not his head," he adds, and we burst into a fit of laughter.
Without realizing it, we are already in front of my building. The laughter subsides when we notice where we are.
I clear my throat. "Well. Uh-thank you. Again," I say, referring to him walking me home.
"No need," Spencer says. "I had a good time today," he adds, smiling. 
I can't help but feel my cheeks burn. Spencer casts his eyes to the ground.
"Me too," I admit, biting my bottom lip. "I - uh."
Why am I so nervous right now? Just say what you want to say!
"I - uh. I'd really like to do this again. I mean, you know, maybe next time could be something planned?"
Spencer's eyes flick to mine. I would say he didn't expect me to say that.
"I would love that," he says, keeping eye contact. And for a moment, I think the breath leaves my lungs. Those eyes are something I didn't see in my life before. I can't describe it, but it's enough to make me speechless.
"I guess it's here when I ask for your number?" Spencer's voice is the one that brings me out of the trance.
I chuckle, mid-embarrassed by my absorption moment. I gesture for him to give me the phone. Spencer does it, and I advert his piercing gaze to focus on typing my number. Once done, I return the device with a playful smile. Jeez, I feel like a damn teenager.
A snort leaves Spencer's lips when he sees the name I used for my contact.
"Really?" He asks. I nod, chuckling.
"It's safe to say you won't forget who I am," I confirm.
"Bet I won't."
"Good. Now I'm going to come up," I gesture to the building. "Good night, Spencer."
"Good night, (Y/N)."
I turn to enter the building, and although I can't see him, I feel him standing there in the cold night until I disappear into the elevator.
Once I cross the threshold of my apartment, a ding comes from my phone. Frowning, I pick it up.
Unknown number: Are you free on Saturday at midday? We could go to lunch. Let me know. Good night. SR.
I bit my lower lip. And after typing a reply, I start my night routine before bed.
Oh, boy. What are you getting into (Y/N)? 
Whatever it is, it feels so good.
-------------
Next -> Part 3: Douchebag Falls Short in This Case
-------------
A/N 2: As always, I'm excited to know your thoughts about this one!
-------------
Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers
274 notes · View notes
crippleprophet · 1 year ago
Text
rules of engagement before we begin: do not seek the original post out to interact with it negatively or harass op in any way. if i find out about anybody doing that sort of shit i’ll block them so quick it’ll be the fastest i’ve moved all year. ok thx here we go
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
[image description: three screenshots of a post with the username blacked out. the introductory & closing paragraphs are as follows, & the bullet points will be listed within the body of this post. the introduction reads:
nobody warns you this but addiction happens without you noticing and one of the first things that it attacks is your ability to care. if you find yourself using recreational drugs every day, stop and take one day a week sober. if you struggle with this or if you don't see the point of the exercise, you are likely already addicted and you need help.
nobody ever taught me the warning signs for drug addiction, only that "it costs lots of money and destroys your life!!!1" which is not helpful if you can't recognize a developing addiction in yourself. so here's some things to watch out for with recreational drug use.
the conclusion reads: yes this applies to weed. weed is a drug and you can get addicted to it like any other substance. addiction is not the same as physical dependence; it is psychological and it can happen to anyone. you are not immune to addiction. end image description.]
now! fundamentally why i will never align with this kind of perspective is that i affirm addiction as a social construct, like all so-called mental illnesses, & the psychiatric institution which invents & reifies them as a fucking sham.
answer quickly:
what substances is it possible for one to become addicted to? does this include caffeine? why or why not?
is the claim of sugar addiction legitimate or anti-fat pseudoscience? what, if anything, differentiates this from other addiction science?
what is the harm of the so-called opioid epidemic: access to a safe supply of narcotics, or the lack thereof?
can an autistic person who eats the same dinner every night, for example, be said to be “psychologically addicted” to it if they have a meltdown & subsequent ongoing distress + disinterest in food when it is discontinued?
can you be addicted to psychiatric medication? immunosuppressants? why or why not?
my point is less that these behaviors are not indicative of addiction but rather that that wouldn’t inherently make them harmful. fuck it, let’s take it point by point!
planning your day around drugs e.g "i'll give myself an extra half hour before heading out so i can get high first"
this whole post had me asking “literally what is the problem with this,” starting with this first bullet! why does someone need to leave for the grocery store at 5:30 instead of 6, or whatever? and the other recurring theme: what happens if you replace “drugs” with “pain management”? (chronic pain is not the only valid reason to get high—all reasons for drug use are equally value-neutral—but it certainly still is one.) “i’ll give myself an extra half hour before heading out for my pain management to start working” is the kind of calculation familiar to most people with chronic pain. “stop and take one day a week without pain management” is not a test of whether you “need help,” it’s torture.
now, disregarding one’s priorities or commitments to other people in favor of drugs can happen, & in many circumstances it’s harmful to the other people impacted. that’s not what was said here, & stopping that behavior does not require getting sober.
rapidly switching emotions around drugs. you love them but you hate that you love them so much. you hate the way you feel on them but you hate being sober. feeling guilty after using even when you didn't give a crap beforehand.
do you know what else i love but hate that i love, what else i hate using? my fucking bed. three years ago, my mobility scooter. this is not a logical argument, this is a bullshit argument. my feelings about something do not inherently reflect its harm to others – or to myself, even, though i firmly argue for the right to make “self-harmful” decisions regardless.
you know what people hate being on but hate worse being off? the vast fucking majority of medications.
why might a drug user start to feel guilty when they previously didn’t? being shamed by friends, family, or a fucking tumblr post; surpassing a constructed threshold of “acceptable” use they didn’t know they’d internalized; experiencing new or greater access issues; beginning to probe their morality around drugs & unpack things they were taught; experiencing consequences of criminalization; getting triggered.
caring less about spending money. if you are budgeting for drugs like they are food, you are likely prioritizing them more than is healthy.
“if you are budgeting for pain management like it’s as important as food, you are likely prioritizing it more than is healthy.” health is absolutely useless as a value for me anyway, but: the food’s no good if i’m too nauseous or too dead to eat it.
prioritizing drugs over other people’s financial needs is harmful! this wouldn’t happen if food & drugs were provided to people; some people wouldn’t need as many drugs if their needs were met otherwise; people’s needs being met shouldn’t be dependent on their parent / partner / self not using drugs; this harm is not what the bullet says.
getting high to do household chores and other unpleasant things because it would suck less and be more bearable on drugs
“things should suck. because god wills it i said so.”
feeling anxious or restless while sober, not knowing what to do with oneself, feeling lost or ungrounded.
again just. what’s the problem with that. so what if being sober sucks or is boring or stressful or demanding. so what if someone decides to deal with that sober or decides to use more because of that. who gives a shit.
thinking about doing drugs constantly even while sober. maybe it's the first thing you think of when you wake up. maybe when you're bored or otherwise have free time, drugs are one of the first things you can think of to occupy yourself with.
“thinking about getting better pain management constantly when you’re in pain”
i feel like you’re gonna tell me the only thing that can really take my pain away is jesus
again like. what is the problem with doing drugs because you’re bored. why do i need to occupy myself, what, fucking productively?
going to work or school while under the influence, especially if it happens regularly and if you're seeing your performance suffer as a result.
what’s wrong with going to school high. derailing a class discussion is a dick move, maybe, but that’s not inherent to being high. work & performance are both very broad terms – a surgeon or someone operating heavy machinery not being sober is putting others at risk of harm in a way a cashier is not.
the idea of taking a 'tolerance break' sounds good to you until it's actually break time, at which point you can come up with 20 very reasonable sounding points to explain why it wouldn't benefit you actually and you should just keep doing drugs regardless.
y’all think this is incredibly circular logic too right? “drugs are bad, so telling yourself drugs are not bad is proof that they’re bad.” took me right back to the sunday school classroom and i wish i was fucking exaggerating. it’s an argument founded upon the inherent wrongness of trusting yourself – what you want to do must be wrong because you want it. this is one of the points that’s a more solid indicator of, like, “congrats! you’re now in circumstances doctors are salivating to psychiatrize as XYZ Use Disorder,” but that doesn’t make it any less nonsense as a moral argument.
even if you succeed at quitting the drug, you keep your dealer's number on your phone "just in case"
so what. what’s wrong with giving yourself the continual autonomy to choose whether or not to do drugs. what’s wrong with quitting drugs for a while and starting using again.
you pretend to be sober when you aren't. you worry about other people noticing how much time you spend high. you make efforts to hide your drug use or minimize how much other people think you're using. you're scared of other people's judgement if they were to find out.
this one might be the most ludicrous to me, which is really saying something. “if other people being bigoted towards drug users makes you pretend to use less than you do, that’s your fault & not theirs.” cool! thanks for the quick heads up to not believe a word you say!
you have mood swings laced with self-hatred, regret, financial worries, and guilt. these mood swings are then very quickly wiped away by feelings of "but it doesn't matter, i can do what i want, and clearly i'm doing just fine while using drugs frequently". news flash, if you are rapidly switching between feeling numb-ok and hating yourself more than anything because of your drug use, you are mentally ill.
again, “the norm knows you better than you know yourself, you can’t listen to yourself, the body is wrong, wanting is wrong, pleasure is wrong, you are wrong wrong wrong.” but god, what a beautiful example of how oppression is psychiatrized: it’s not enough for the oppression to have worked, the system must then convince us that the effects of it working are our own fault. it’s not enough to just kill us with us fully aware of the knife, it’s gotta convince us we’re bleeding out for no reason. if you want any moments of pleasure during your miserable godforsaken little life you’d better put your nose back on the goddamn grindstone and repent. everything around you for your entire life has told you to hate yourself for your drug use but if the combined force of that violence works you are mentally ill, and that is the worst crime of all.
according to this post, when is it okay to use drugs, then? well, not planned into your day, and not at work or school, but not when you’re bored or have been thinking about it too much, and not if anyone who’d judge you or you don’t trust knowing you’re high or you just don’t want knowing is around, and not if you don’t want to quit, but also not if you’ve quit already. you have to hate your drug use otherwise that’s proof it’s attacked your ability to care but hating your drug use is proof you should stop. #JustSayNo
495 notes · View notes
nomercymaster11 · 8 months ago
Text
Through Law's eyes (Chapter 4)
Tumblr media
@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO
WC: 2,993 | Law x y/n, afab!reader | continuation of "We should talk" A/N: My attempt of writing a first person perspective, Law's POV, reminiscing the days before that one fateful day. It's been about three years now since she became part of our crew. I remember the day she barged into our lives like a storm, all fierce determination, and pleading eyes. We'd just finished a mission on one of the islands in the North Blue, and she'd been instrumental in our success.
But when she asked to join us, I wasn't exactly jumping at the chance. See, it's not that I had anything against her personally—it's just that taking on new crew members is a big decision. Let alone another woman, aside from Ikkaku, to join the crew.
But as Penguin—bless his chatty soul—filled me in on her background, I started to see things differently. Turns out, she wasn't just some runaway trying to escape a bad situation. She had skills—mad skills. Not only was she handy with medicine, but she knew her way around basic mechanics too. That's the kind of resourcefulness you can't ignore on the Grand Line.
Penguin had spent some time with her while we were sorting out the aftermath of our mission. He couldn't stop talking about her, which, coming from him, was saying something. But the more he told me, the more I realized that she belonged with us. She wasn't just looking for a way out—she was looking for a purpose. And maybe, just maybe, we could give her that.
So, despite my initial reservations, I welcomed her aboard.
At first, she struggled with sea sickness, poor thing. But she didn't let it keep her down for long. Despite her initial queasiness, she threw herself into life aboard the Polar Tang with all the gusto of a seasoned sailor. She had this tomboyish vibe about her, fitting right in with the rough-and-tumble atmosphere of our crew.
Watching her adjust was like seeing a flower bloom in the midst of a storm. Day by day, she grew more accustomed to the rhythms of life at sea. And when she finally donned that crisp, white overall suit—the same one worn by the rest of the Heart Pirates—it was like she'd always been one of us. The crew welcomed her with open arms, and she fit in seamlessly.
I often caught glimpses of her shadowing Penguin, Shachi, and Bepo, soaking up their knowledge like a sponge. They took her under their wing, showing her the ropes of ship life, teaching her the ins and outs of the Polar Tang. They made sure she knew the rules I'd laid down, and they filled her in on all the little tricks and quirks of submarine living. And you know what? She took it all in stride, like it was second nature to her.
As they reported her progress to me, I couldn't help but be impressed. She was a quick learner, picking up skills that took others years to master. And every time I nodded in approval, it was like giving her a silent pat on the back. She was proving herself, not just to me, but to the whole crew.
                                              XXXX
I remember that moment vividly, like it was yesterday. I was making my rounds through the submarine when I noticed a faint glow emanating from beneath the door of my office. Curiosity piqued, I approached quietly and peeked through the small window. There she was, surrounded by a sea of medical books, completely engrossed in their pages. Her expression was a mix of fascination and concentration, her lips forming silent words as she absorbed the knowledge within those worn pages.
I knocked softly, not wanting to startle her, and she jumped, clearly caught off guard. As I entered, she stood up quickly, blinking rapidly as if she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
"I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't be touching these," she apologized, her voice tinged with guilt.
But I shook my head, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "No problem at all. You're welcome to borrow them anytime."
Her face lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and she grinned at me eagerly. "I also brought some medical books with me when I came aboard the sub. Can I keep them here?" she asked, gesturing to the stack of books she'd brought with her.
I nodded, touched by her enthusiasm. It wasn't every day that someone showed such genuine interest in expanding their knowledge.
And so, our impromptu study sessions began. It was the only time we were truly alone together, just the two of us surrounded by the wealth of knowledge contained within those walls. And as we poured over the books, exchanging insights and ideas, I couldn't help but feel a sense of closeness growing between us. She wasn't just a member of my crew—she was a kindred spirit, hungry for knowledge and eager to learn.
This isn’t something we do on a regular basis. During those rare moments when our duties aligned and we found ourselves in the same room, engrossed in our respective books, I couldn't help but steal glances at her. There was something mesmerizing about the way she immersed herself in her reading, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving silently as she absorbed the words on the page.
One particular night stands out in my memory. We were seated across from each other, the soft glow of the lamplight casting gentle shadows across her features. As I lifted my gaze from the text in front of me, I found myself studying her with a newfound curiosity. Her long lashes brushed against her cheeks with each blink, and her eyes darted back and forth across the pages, devouring every word. My gaze trailed down to the delicate curve of her nose, and then lingered on her lips—soft and full, like petals begging to be kissed.
I shook my head, trying to dispel the sudden wave of distraction that washed over me. I couldn't afford to get lost in thoughts of her—not when there were duties to attend to, and a ship to command. But despite my best efforts to focus on my reading, my mind kept drifting back to her, like a ship caught in an irresistible current.
What are you doing? I chided myself silently, forcing my attention back. I couldn't afford to let myself be distracted—not by her, or by anything else. But as I stole one last glance at her, her beauty illuminated by the soft glow of the lamplight, I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.
But such thoughts were dangerous, I reminded myself sternly. We were pirates, after all—outlaws on the high seas. And as much as I might have wanted to, I couldn't allow myself to get too close. Not when the stakes were so high, and the dangers so real. So, with a sigh, I forced myself to turn back to my book, pushing aside the tantalizing thoughts that threatened to consume me. But deep down, I knew that no matter how hard I tried to resist, she had already captured a piece of my heart.
That moment of distraction was like a brief flicker of light in the darkness—a glimmer of something I hadn't felt in ages. But I knew better than to let it take root. Emotions were a dangerous thing for a pirate, especially someone in my position. So, I buried those feelings deep down, resolved to concentrate on the current task.
                                               XXXX
I threw myself into my duties with a renewed vigor, strategizing and planning with a single-minded intensity. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and before I knew it, a year had slipped by like sand through my fingers. We had crossed into the treacherous waters of the Grand Line, where danger lurked around every corner and the ocean itself seemed to rise up against us.
In the depths of the Grand Line, the challenges we faced were unlike anything we'd encountered before. The sea monsters were larger, fiercer, and more relentless than those of the North Blue. Every day was a battle for survival, as we navigated through storms and dodged the attacks of creatures that seemed intent on tearing our ship apart.
But despite the dangers, I found solace in the chaos. In the midst of battle, there was no room for distraction or doubt. Every decision had to be made with precision and clarity, every move calculated to ensure our survival. And as the captain of the Heart Pirates, it was my responsibility to lead my crew through the storm and into calmer waters.
So, I pushed aside any lingering thoughts of her. There would be time for reflection later, when the seas were calm and the danger had passed. But for now, my only concern was keeping my crew safe and steering our ship toward our next destination in the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line.
                                           XXXX
It was on one such stop at an island that another incident unfolded. As I stood by the dock, mulling over our next course of action, she came bounding towards me, her fiery determination evident in every step.
I couldn't help but let out a sigh as she stood there, her lips set in a determined pout. This wasn't the first time we'd had this argument, and I had a sinking feeling it wouldn't be the last. She was stubborn, that much was clear, and when she set her mind to something, there was no stopping her.
But as much as her defiance grated on my nerves, I couldn't deny that there was something undeniably endearing about her fiery spirit. Even when she was being a brat, there was a spark in her eyes that I couldn't help but admire.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to quell the rising frustration within me. "Fine, have it your way," I relented, knowing that arguing any further would be futile. "But on one condition."
Her eyes lit up with curiosity as she leaned in, waiting for my terms. "What is it?" she asked eagerly.
"If you're able to land even a small cut on me anywhere on my body, I'll let you join Penguin and the others in their sparring," I replied, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips.
I told her that she’s supposed to be a support and not someone who fights on the frontline.
Her expression faltered for a moment, a hint of doubt flickering across her features. "That's not fair! You're way stronger than me!" she protested; her frustration evident.
I shrugged nonchalantly, not about to back down. "Then give up, easy as that," I teased, hoping to quell her whining once and for all.
But instead of conceding defeat, she squared her shoulders and met my gaze head-on. "Let me practice first," she declared, her determination shining through.
And in that moment, I knew there was no stopping her. Whether I liked it or not, she was going to find a way to prove herself, even if it meant facing off against me, her captain, in a battle of wills. And as much as I tried to resist, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride swell within me at the sight of her unwavering determination. She may have been a handful, but she was my crewmate, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
As the crew gathered on the shore, forming a circle around us, I couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation coursing through my veins. The air was charged with excitement, and I tightened my grip on Kikoku, its weight resting comfortably on my shoulder, while the other hand remained tucked inside my pocket.  Beside me stood <y/n>, a few inches away, her movements fluid as she stretched her arms, cracked her knuckles, and warmed up her legs. The intensity in her eyes was unmistakable; she was dead serious about this.
"You can still back out if you want to," I offered, my voice laced with a hint of warning.
"Why? Are you scared of me?" she shot back, her voice laced with playful defiance.
A chorus of cheers erupted from the crew, egging us on as we prepared to face off. I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her cockiness, unsure where her newfound confidence was coming from.
"What's going on?" Shachi whispered to Penguin, his curiosity evident.
"It appears that the two had a deal, something like that," Penguin replied, his arms crossed as he observed the scene. He had assisted her briefly in honing her swordsmanship skills.
As we squared off, I caught Shachi and Penguin exchanging whispered words, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. They knew something was up, but they trusted me enough to let things play out.
"Just to let you know, I won't hold back. You wanted this after all," I warned her, my grip tightening around my sword as I began to unsheathe it slowly. Truth be told, I was bluffing. Landing a small bruise on her would be sufficient—I had no desire for her to harbor any ill will towards me. But perhaps teaching her a lesson was necessary.
For a moment, hesitation flickered in her eyes as she tightened her grip on her own sword but then she squared her shoulders and advanced towards me. It was easy for me to anticipate her moves, to parry her attacks effortlessly. Despite her lack of experience, she wielded her sword with conviction, her determination evident with each swing. But there was something different about her—something unexpected.
"I thought you're not going to hold back? Why are you on the defensive?" she taunted, her words ringing in the air.
I couldn't help but smirk at her audacity. With a swift movement, I vanished from her line of sight, only to reappear behind her, ready to strike. But to my surprise, she anticipated my move, twisting her body to block my attack with her sword.
Her movements were fluid and precise, as if she could see right through me. And when I attacked again, she parried effortlessly, her eyes locked on mine with a steely determination. Testing my theory, I attacked from a different angle, only for her to evade once more.
"Since when did you know you could use Observation Haki?" I asked, taken aback by her newfound skill.
"I wasn't sure," she admitted, panting slightly from exertion. "I started seeing things differently."
She was full of surprises, that much was clear. But even as we continued to clash, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to her than met the eye.
"The deal is still on though," I reminded her, my voice firm.
"I won't back down," she replied
She may have been a novice, but she had the heart of a warrior, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of respect for her in that moment.
As our sparring continued, I couldn't help but admire her tenacity and marvel her progress. Despite her initial hesitations, she was adapting quickly, her movements becoming more fluid and precise with each exchange. The cheers of the crew egged us on, fueling the fire that burned between us.
But as the minutes dragged on, I found myself growing weary of the fight. With a final swing of my sword, I sent her weapon flying, causing her to lose her balance. Her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the fall, but before she could hit the ground, I acted on instinct, hooking my arm around her to steady her. Our eyes locked in a moment of shared intensity, breaths ragged, chests rising and falling in unison. I could feel the warmth of her hand against my chest, the beads of sweat glistening on our foreheads.
For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around us fading into the background as we stood locked in that intimate embrace. But the sound of applause from the crew jolted me back to reality, and I quickly helped her to her feet, trying to ignore the strange fluttering in my chest.
Retrieving my sword and sheathing it once more, I took a moment to catch my breath, removing my fur hat to run a hand through my hair. But before I could even gather my thoughts, she was already asking about joining the others in their sparring sessions.
"You didn't land a scar anywhere on me. So, it's still a no," I replied firmly, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Her face fell instantly, her lips forming again to a pout that I couldn't help but find endearing. But I refused to let myself give in to her charms—not now, not ever.
"Rules are rules. You know that" I reminded her, furrowing my brows in a gesture that I hoped conveyed my seriousness.
But she wasn't about to give up so easily. Grabbing my arms, she examined them closely, searching for any sign of injury. She squeezed my hand firmly, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. Then, she cupped my face in her hands, her touch gentle yet probing. She moved my head from side to side, inspecting me for any hidden injuries, her eyes scanning my features with unwavering focus. I stiffened under her touch, caught off guard by her sudden gesture. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirling within me.
"Stop that," I scolded lightly, trying to mask the way her touch affected me.
With a resigned sigh, I watched as the crew began to make their way back to the submarine. But even as we parted ways, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something much bigger—something that would change us both in ways we couldn't even begin to imagine.
Chapter 3.5 | Chapter 4.5 (Almost at the end)
239 notes · View notes
3hks · 11 months ago
Text
How to Create a Unique Character
As authors, we should want our characters to stand out, to be unique, and to have an everlasting impression on our readers! However, there are simply too many other characters out there to make our creations one-of-a-kind. But in this post, I'll give you some ideas and tips you can use to create a memorable character!
What really sticks out about your character? Appearance wise, it's admittedly easier if your character has some truly unique features, such as heterochromatic eyes, scars, different hair color(s), accessories, etc. If your character doesn't have anything too distinctive about them, then pick out some of their most important traits and embellish them! Notice that I said important, the features that matter to your character should matter to the reader. And finally, if your character is simply just average, then state that. Take time to really describe your characters and the respective parts of them!
What about their backstory? Honestly, a backstory can do a lot! They can change the readers' perspectives on the character and provide reasoning for their actions. With that being said, a backstory can really stick to the audience, so let your imagination run wild with their past! Naturally, you should decide on what influence their background had on them and build a story around that. Does your character live in an orphanage? What type of orphanage is it? What did they learn from it? For quite some writers, their main characters are orphans, but how did they become one? I'm going to be honest here, it's rather common for authors to have their protagonist watch their parents die, and have their motives built around that. Don't just settle for something bland! If they have been through some sort of traumatic experience, depending on the situation, I suggest involving that character, make them a part of what they went through, more than a simple bystander. Maybe they could've helped, but didn't, and that regret was what changed them! If you want your character to have an impression on your audience, the backstory is a part of the foundation for that!
What about their emotions? For a mentally healthy character, this is a pretty obvious answer: they are perfectly cognizant of their feelings and accept them. However, I suspect that most of you won't create a mentally healthy character, and that might work to your advantage! Think about how they would deal with these three feelings: sadness, anger, and stress. Does it differ from a "normal" person? Then at some point, include your character battling one (or more) of the emotions they find it difficult to deal with! How they respond will stick out to the readers!
What about their mental stability? Does your character have some sort of mental health disorder? These don't have to be flat-out depression, but can include OCD, mysophobia, (more commonly known as germophobia) anxiety, ADHD, etc. A disorder or obsession will definitely make your character stand out, but make sure to do some research on the topic! Mental health is no joke; some people may actually have the disorder, and falsified facts could really be offensive.
And lastly, what about their own, private problems? For example, a character's significant other has been distracted with work, and doesn't pay much attention to the former character. Thus, they feel abandoned and not prioritized. How does the character fight to overcome those feelings? How a character feels in specific events can reach out to the reader because they find it relatable!
These are some things to consider when creating a unique character! Every little part counts!
Happy writing~
3hks ^^
350 notes · View notes
buffkitties · 2 months ago
Note
Idk, even if there's a systemic ultimate/non-ultimate oppression axis outside of the game Komaeda wasn't just pointing out people's privilege, he was parroting the ideology at its highest extreme himself. An irl equivalent would be something like a gay person with severe internalised homophobia constantly expressing those ideas and trying to help a random straight person win the game, not someone talking about systemic homophobia and getting bad reactions for it.
The rest of them had zero autonomy over the killing game outside of- from their perspective- whether or not to go with Komaeda's idea to sacrifice everyone else to get one single ultimate out of the game, or to try to keep as many people alive as possible for as long as possible in case someone rescued them or they found a way to escape.
The former's insane to jump to at the very start of the game, knowing nothing about their broader situation, but Komaeda tried to force it immediately without discussing it with the group. He became partially responsible for Imposter's death in the process, justified it with rhetoric that reduced them to their Ultimate status and treated their lives as interchangeable, and repeatedly expressed intent to do it again afterwards.
On a meta level I hate how DR handles mentally unwell characters, Komaeda included, and I'll die on the hill of him being fundamentally good, but imo the others' ostracisation of him was completely understandable and not just avoidance of an uncomfortable topic. He wasn't the only character to cause problems, but he was a continuous threat that didn't show any intention of changing after the case he was involved in. And the cast were high schoolers with no expertise in mental health.
I finally have the mental capacity to respond, so here's the first thing: I don't know where you got me saying the privilege thing from since I've been saying this whole time that Komaeda makes them hyperaware of their privilege the way he talks rather than just mentioning an uncomfortable topic
Additionally, I think the gay/homophobia comparison in this case is a wrong example, especially since it wasn't taught to him, nor does he have anything internalised. A better example would be how religious trauma victims are born into a severely corrupt space and turn to cling to the only thing they know, while not exactly even believing it themselves.
I make the religious comparison a lot.
My original post was referring to the way Komaeda repeats things more directly and how he keeps to strict rules, including the toxic pedestal that society puts the talented on. While he does repeat them, that is because he clings onto the only ideals that he knows because they are the only things he could actually learn. Being a person who had to raise himself and distanced himself from people, only having access to media and probably limited human contact, he was merely observing. As a person who is a victim of talent and one who had to be observant of his surroundings and the people around him from a young age, he definitely noticed how worthless people are treated, and that the talented are superior in some way.
And while he doesn't believe in those himself, which is obvious by the fact that he is one of the only characters to see past talent and see the person—for example, Hinata in sdr2, who he definitely suspected had no talent, even in the prologue. Komaeda is perceptive, and there was no mention of memory loss at the moment, so the fact that Hinata did not remember his talent, a thing that mattered greatly in their society, and that defined him, told him all he needed to know. And even if you ignore that fact, he didn't know Hinata's talent (or lack thereof), yet he still treated him like everyone else, or better. But he implies through the entire game that he knows, even outside the free times, with things like comments about relating to Hinata and feeling the closest to him, etc. Yet, he believed in him, trusted him. He loved him. He believed he was worthy of the same things as everyone else. Or the others, and how he doesn't tolerate bullshit from them, and expresses distate for a lot of their actions and even interests, like he would towards anyone else.
And which is also obvious by the way he talks about them, with clear exaggeration and like he's using terms he doesn't even know the weight of, or like he's trying too hard.
He does that by speaking to them like he thinks he's supposed to.
I still stand by my word that he doesn't put them on a toxic pedestal because, to me, it seems like the opposite. It feels more like he's trying to be respectful because he believes that is how things are, and the hyperawareness of their social issues makes him act the only way he knows how toward people who are great compared to him. The only way it becomes toxic is because it has always been harmful and biased. And that's what I've been saying the whole time. Because people reduce this fact only to Komaeda and act like he invented the whole thing.
Moreover, I still believe that Komaeda was getting more frustrated/impatient with each chapter because everyone kept avoiding the truth and turning back to the same mindset and wanted to stop the killings, which was a meaningless situation for him. The way he talked about it seemed to prove it, especially with the "next time I'd appreciate it if you just talked to me and killed me" stuff.
While the others had no control over the killing game and their discomfort around Komaeda was understandable to some extent, his overall treatment is not okay.
They barely treat him like a person, and it's just pathetic that they hold so much hatred for him but then forgive the actual murderers. And yeah, they can feel uncomfortable. That's understandable. But they way they treat him? No, it's not. That's not justifiable, nor normal. To go as far as letting him starve? To constantly insult him? To act like he's not even a person? To treat him like he would be better off dead? To only consider him nothing but a bother? That's not okay. Avoiding him? Sure, I would understand that. It's a killing game, and the fact that they would go to the extremes is also understandable, but it goes beyond just the killing game, doesn't it? While I don't care for DR3 because it's horrible, I was talking about how people basically praise the cast for treating Komaeda like shit, and that includes that awful anime.
It was mostly aimed at how the fandom sees it and stuff
58 notes · View notes
miss-menhera · 9 months ago
Text
HELLO THERE!!! Trying to cope with OR UNDERSTAND Adam's death? The denial and "what ifs" just get stronger?!?!?!?
Me too tbh I'm fucking miserable
BUT!!!! YOU WILL FIND OUT THAT THIS SHITHEAD COMING BACK IS ACTUALLY MORE PLAUSIBLE THAN YOU THINK! (W.O.W!!!!)
I actually also have some pretty solid theories about season 2 in here so be warned.
(This is a bit different from my usual goofy post I might delete this and separate into parts since I talked about too much)
Tumblr media
VIVZIEPOP MADE A COUPLE STATEMENTS THAT COULD BE GAME-CHANGING AND WON'T LEAVE US GRASPING AT STRAWS ANYMORE. I'LL DISCUSS EVERY GROUND THERE IS TO COVER AND EVERY COPIUM THERE IS TO INHALE, AT THE MOMENT!! (Might update this or make a new post if more comes out)
Tumblr media
Ok so to start this off, don't be put off by this person's perspective, just listen to me. Vivzie talked to this fan at megacon and got asked if Adam was still alive, all she said was "he lives on in a way", I'm gonna take my delulu aside and the most pessimistic guess would be that someone (pfff lute obviously)avenges him or that his death has an everlasting impact that changes the story, BUT we already got that made clear, like that was pretty obvious already.
(It's made obvious by this scene, Adam's death created a whole other big problem)
Tumblr media
(Unless what she means by it is that his death is honored? Like maybe we get to delve deeper into his history, but again i dont think so) SO I DONT THINK THATS IT, I feel like if it was either of the ones I mentioned she would just say "Nope, he's deceased BUT he lives on in a way" But ALL she said was "He lives on in a way" which is very different, although it could be she expressed herself badly or the person writing the tweet didn't quote it word for word. But taking it in the literal sense, this might be pretty much confirmation he lives. There's a way he lives right? So considering that.... could it be that after Lute took his halo,(which was also broken which often renders an angel as "fallen" by default) and left his body there, he just... like woke up as a sinner? Yes yes, I know everyone's been talking only about that, I'm not giving any groundbreaking revelations but I'm just saying that there's alot of options that open up to that possibility. Or who knows! What if he actually doesn't get reincarnated? What if he just wakes up with no halo, so no place to come back to or what if the ever-absent God takes notice of his death and fixes up his first loyal creation?
Tumblr media
Besides that if they THINK Adam is dead, (hesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdeadhesnotdead)
They make these huge ass changes in tactics, and need to find another way to deal with what Charlie is doing; IF Adam actually becomes a sinner, and his life is super important to heaven... with evidence that sinners can now be redeemed... What if people like LUTE, or LILITH actually become allies of the hotel in an effort to redeem him? He WAS God's first, most loyal and favorite creation, HELL THE REASON HE WAS ALLOWED TO DO WHATEVER HE WANTED AND WAS BASICALLY IMMUNE TO THE LAW IN HEAVEN IS BECAUSE OF HOW MANY PRIVILEGES HE HAS, I don't think God would be too pleased with his soul dissipating or whatever the fuck. That might actually be a plot point, he's way too important to just be killed off like this, am I the only one who got that impression? He's the FIRST MAN, first man, the first man being THE FIRST TO DIE IN THIS SHOW IS ABSOLUTELY MIND-FUCKING AND ALSO A CRUEL JOKE anditskindafunny OF FATE FOR HIM.
Something else I want to add is that my personal take on it is that if I learned anything about this show, Lilith will show up in the next season and pretend to be an ally to the hotel, she will pretend to support Charlie and basing this off the theory that Alastor made a deal with Lilith to keep her daughter safe, he failed to meet the end of his deal. So now she's coming to take matters into her own hands after all these pesky men failed, (ermmm girlboss!!) Stop, and manipulate everyone in the hotel into giving up on the idea. Considering how she deliberately kept Charlie away from her dad her whole life, there's gonna be a whole lot of family drama. And we might see Alastor lose his shit for good. Still tryna figure out wtf does "Lilith thrived and empowered demonkind with her voice" if her voice is that powerful, and her words are just as powerful, we're gonna get 1. FIRE ASS SONGS 2. Mother Gothel ass song with Charlie, I just know it holy shit. Not to mention that they actually don't know that Sir Pentious went to heaven, Lilith definetely will know and won't tell anyone. Lucifer will definetely be the one to step up in the situation yet again. Anyway after I yapped my heart out about what I think will happen in this show, I just wanna say one thing.
There is this DUMBASS thing everyone in the fandom is talking about when someone says Adam is gonna be reborn as a sinner. "He is not gonna come back because he was killed with an angelic blade and Pentious was not" That is the most stupid bullshit I've ever read and if you genuinely believe it for a second, i feel sorry for u cuz how did your brain go and make this correlation?
Most of these people say that the show explicitly stated that Angelic metal SPECIFICALLY and just if it's metal, it can castrate a soul or whatever. Which is literally NOT true, at no point was it established that Angelic steel was the only thing able to exorcise demons. You really need just a bit of common sense to come to this conclusion, what makes the weapons dangerous for demons and angels isn't that they're steel specifically. It's that they're ANGELIC guys.. Have y'all seen Helluva boss at all?
There are blessed ropes, Angelic guns, Angelic bullets. These are just items that replicate the power of Holy magic. A PURE,HUGE, HOLY BEAM of unfiltered angelic power is not stronger than a little dagger infused with a fraction of it? Not only does that not make sense from the show's lore perspective, but using common SENSE that sounds even dumber. This is the only argument I can completely scratch off the lists of why Adam can't come back, and it's the most popular one...
Tumblr media
Man you know what guys, after he died, whether he comes back or not, he's never gonna be the same again I just can't picture it. He's gonna be much more insecure, without a mask and not funny and goofy............. Or he is just gonna come back and go full joker. He just cant possibly keep being a light-hearted dark humor andrew tate stan after the most, first immature man in history pulled a gentle smile like that. That just can't be, like take a look at the way he always smiles to the last smile we saw him have.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THAT IS A CHANGED MAN YALL, THATS ANOTHER ENTITY 😭
I HIGHKEY DONT WANT HIM TO GET A REDEMPTION ARC EITHER :(( MAN WHY DID THEY HAVE TO DETHRONE THE LITTLE GUY, THEY RUINED EVERYTHING. One small little theory floating in my mind was that, what if the news of Adam being dead could result in some powerful overlord or even A SIN we've never seen or know the power of, revive him and have him work under them? Even if he actually comes back as a sinner, this little theory I haven't brainstormed much about could be explored.
But y'all know what? Let's say he's dead okay? Let's say he's dead dead, then what did they do with his BODY? I didn't see anyone dig him a grave, yet he died on the hotel, I didn't see anyone even move his body after the angels left. And we know damn well they didn't take him, that's too much of a big detail to leave it out unless they REALLY screwed up with the writing and animation direction in the rush to have the serie come out, but the animation has always been so detailed with almost unnecessary background details. I think they left it out intentionally to have that worked out in season 2, heard some people say it could be they just built the hotel over his body? But I doubt it. If so maybe he could become part of the hotel or just condemned to never leave the hotel in a.... a... ghooooost.... like form...?(Massive amounts of copium). Someone could argue his body just dissolved or something but 1. That makes no sense pookie 2. In the first episode they found the body of the dead exorcist long after it died, and we definetely know atleast it's head was still perfectly intact by episode 3. AND i also went back to check, after Lute takes the Halo they purposefully never show Adam's body, ONCE. Not once, not even as they show all the corpses on the ground as the exorcists depart. So that couldn't be it, one thing we know for sure is that Vivzie is definetely letting on there's something more to his death she doesn't want to reveal yet. It could be she's doing that just to leave it ambiguous to delusional theorists like myself,,,,,since my type of stupid is usually the kind of idiocy infectious enough to rot everyone's brain into pointless speculation based on minor details. Which definetely sells the show better AND keeps discourse and attention alive till more is fed to us, which in that case, very effective marketing strategy at the cost of everyone's mental health Viv! Good job, the prospect you might be giving us false hope cuz its good for business is really making me reconsider signing the christian mom petition to make Amazon prime cancel tis' demonic blasphemous show. (And yes that is a serious threat, I will even fund the petition with 100 euros watch what you write, i don't want any mammon ass marketing tactics pls)...... or... she just doesn't wanna spoil the surprise and im reading too much into it... BUT YOU NEVER KNOW OK?? I NEED TO EXPLORE EVERY SINGLE POSSIBILITY AND NOT LEAVE ONE UNCOVERED. I seriously think I've thought of almost anything-Except that he's just dead, we'll see his funeral in the next season and he actually makes no other appearance......... BUT THAT'S BORING AND I WILL DROP THE SHOW IF THAT HAPPENS! By the way kinda can't wait for Adam merch to drop, cus it means SHE STILL FINDS HIM RELEVANT ENOUGH TO MARKET HIM!!!......and i just really want to have physical objects of him...... But u know what guys Vivzie likes adam alot, he's one of the characters she retweets stuff about the most, along with Lucifer and Alastor. And she also kinda admitted to it.
Tumblr media
NOT TO MENTION THERE IS MORE THAT PROVES ITS NOT OUT OF THE WINDOW FOR HIM TO MAKE A COMEBACK CUZ ALEX BRIGHTMAN(Adam's va) ANNOUNCED HE WILL BE IN SEASON 2. and I know he voices Sir Pentious too,(insane range btw wtf) but like i said if they're keeping it a surprise (Thats been pretty much confirmed, Vivz refuses to give too many details so she obviously wants to keep us guessing, which would be cruel if it was for nothing, and i think she knows would leave fans very disappointed) the possibility of Adam still being present in the show could work out.
VIVZ UNLESS YOU'RE A SADISTIC EVIL WOMAN YOU WOULD NEVER HOPE PEOPLE LIKED HIM IF YOU DIDNT HAVE BIG THINGS PLANNED FOR HIM, RIGHT? RIGHT? VIVZIIEIEIEIEIEI3IE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 GIVE US BACK OUR FRATBOY BEETLEJUICE UNSCATHED PLS NO MORE PAIN!!!
Also guys look adam actually changed out of that smelly ass robe and dolled himself up for the early extermination!!!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
186 notes · View notes
Text
The Babysitter (18)
I Love You
Tumblr media
MILF Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+
Summary: In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?
A/N- I would just like to say that there will be some sensitive issues in this story such as alcoholism, homophobia, anxiety as well as more mature content such as smut so, if you continue to read this, please consider this warning.
The Babysitter Master list | General Master List
Chapter 18- W/c 3.7k- This chapter contains 18+ Content
Tag list- @natsluttt @cerberus-spectre @dorabledewdroop @bibliophilicbi @hopelesslyfallenninlove @simpform1lfs @get-the-fuck-outta-here @natashaswife4125 @marvelwomen-simp (Comment if you want to be added)
I Love You
Your heart shatters as you walk in the heavy downpour, the rain mixing with the tears streaming down your face as block out everything around you. The sound of rain thrashing against the concrete, the engines of cars, and the laughter of people in surrounding buildings all fade into the background, the noises fuzzy while your mind reels.
Completely losing yourself to the torment of your own thoughts, you miss how your name is desperately called out and how Wanda's steps quickly approach when she runs after you, only noticing when her arm reaches out to stop you.
"Y/n," she whispers, voice raw with emotion and eyes brimming with tears. You still due to her hold on you and turn slowly to look at her, taking in her features through watery eyes while letting her hands move to cup your face. "Detka," she murmurs, her own heart shattering at the sight of you so destroyed at what happened.
You don't say anything, another tear spilling from your eyes as you look into her pained ones.
"It's not what you think," she says, pushing back some of the wet hair that's fallen in front of her face.
"He kissed you," you mutter, the whole interaction replays in your mind while you try to focus on what else happened besides the kiss as it was distorting the way you remembered the interaction. All you could remember though was his hands cupping her cheeks, his lips pressed against hers, causing your heart to break a little more and insecurities to build inside you.
"Exactly, he kissed me," she emphasises, your mind now remembering how her arms moved to his chest to push him off, not returning the kiss at all, "I didn't want to kiss him."
You remain quiet, letting the rain continue its onslaught on you both while you stand on the pavement. You think about Melina's words, trying your absolute best to consider Wanda's side of it, trying to look at it from her perspective and not be rash but all that happens is you remember her hesitance.
"You hesitated." Her brows furrow at your words, the confusion and insecurity that's surfaced in your eyes replacing the hurt. "Why did you hesitate?" When she struggles to respond, you let out a sigh, lowering your head and avoiding her gaze. "You considered it, didn't you?" the tone of your voice almost pleads her to prove you wrong, prove that she didn't consider getting back with him.
"No," she says, her voice laced with honesty and desperation to show you that she didn't. "I hesitated because... all I could think about was the man I fell in love with all those years ago." Slowly, you raised your gaze to meet her own, astonished by the amount of emotion swirling in her eyes. "All I could think about was how much he changed, how much I hated him now."
Her hands are still cupping your cheeks, her thumbs wiping the rain and tears off your cheeks as you both stay locked in the moment. You simply both gaze into each other's eyes, losing yourself in her eyes like you always do before breaking the intimate stare.
"He still loves you," You say more out loud to yourself then her, his words causing doubt to stir inside you. He could provide for her better. He's the more stable option. He's the twins' father-
"I don't love him," she murmurs, stepping closer to you and letting her fingers softly brush your soaking hair out of your face. "I don't want him," she whispers, her eyes staring into your own with nothing but love and tenderness. "I want you Y/n. I love you."
Your heart splits into two at her words, part of you revelling with joy because she loves you, but the other half breaks once more as insecurities and doubts gnaw painfully at you. Your mothers words ring around inside your head, Vision's subtle little smirk after kissing Wanda, the pain and grief of the last time you heard those words joining the vile words of your mother.
Noticing the conflict on your face, seeing that disheartened and insecure look in your eyes, Wanda brings you out of the spiral of thoughts, sensing the things your mother had said were making you feel like you were unworthy of her love.
How could someone ever love you?
It won't last, you know?
Do you really think anyone will love you after what you did?
"It's true," she murmurs softly, caressing your cheeks and offering a comforting smile, trying to get you to think like yourself. The thoughts fade away at her soft tone, that gentle tone that causes warmth to take over your chest and calm you down.
"I love you, Y/n. You're all I want. All I could ever want."
The negative and insecure thoughts continue to drift away, your mind now able to comprehend what she's actually saying: she loves you. The revelation makes a small smile break out on your face, her immediately noticing the shift in mood.
"There's my Detka," she murmurs, your hands going to hover at her waist as she leans forwards so she can press her forehead against yours.
"I'm sorry," you sigh out, an apologetic tone lacing your words. "I'm sorry I freaked out-"
"Shh," she gently whispers, hushing your apology, "You don't need to apologise Detka." Her head moves so that her lips can press a featherlight kiss to your forehead, lingering at the wet skin before pulling back and gazing into your eyes.
"I..." You trail off, wanting to say the three words back to her but your throat closing up, the anxiety around the words stopping you. As always, she notices and understands you're not ready, pressing another soft kiss on your cheek before moving to ghost her lips over yours.
"You don't have to say it if you're not ready," she murmurs and her just being so, so perfect, makes you want to say it even though you can't.
"You're everything I want and more," you whisper with a raw tone, trying to convey the love you feel for her in your gaze and words. "You own my heart, Wanda, and because of you, I don't have to make an effort to be happy again. You're my everything."
Wasting no time, her lips crash to yours and the whole world seems to stop. All you can feel is the way her lips meet your own, the way her hands are cupping your cheeks, her body pressing up against yours. It's her, it's all her and that's all you want.
***
Your back hits the door as her body pushes you up against it, the contrast between her warm home and the bitter wind and rain causing a pleasant feeling to flow through you as you heat up a little.
Your whole body soon feels like it's on fire though when her lips press to your own again, her tongue dominantly sliding into your mouth and taking control. Her hands move to your soaked hair, pushing the wet strands back as they fall between your faces while your mouths crash back together.
She steals your breath away, both literally and figuratively as her lips are relentless and that sultry look in her eyes short cuts your brain. The look of pure desire and want causes an unbearable heat to build between your thighs as her body presses further against you, leg slotting between your legs.
A small moan leaves you at the action, your head lolling back while you pant for breath. The older woman takes this as an opportunity to mark your neck once more, letting her teeth scrape down the sensitive skin, which causes a shiver to run down your spine, before littering it in hot, open-mouthed kisses.
"Please," you whimper as your hands helplessly hold onto her waist, the submissive tone of your voice not going unnoticed by her.
"Please what?" she teases with a low tone, pulling away from your neck to admire your dishevelled state. Her eyes scan over your own, watching the way they somehow darken even more before glancing down to your lips, admiring the way your tongue subconsciously wets them. "You have to use your words Detka."
Her lips ghost yours, waiting eagerly for your response but you're rendered speechless by her, too consumed by your arousal to voice what you want.
"Wanda, please," you whisper once more, the desperate look enough to make her take mercy on you. Her hands guide yours to her blouse, helping you unbutton it before shrugging the item off, leaving her in a white lace bra. "Fuck," the word spills from your lips in an enamoured tone, your mind unable to comprehend how someone can be this beautiful.
As your lingering look comes to an end, she pulls away, hooking a finger in the belt loop of your jeans to pull you with her until her back reaches the wall near the stairs. Her hands roam your body while yours do the same to hers, confidence building in you at every little sensual sigh and low moan.
"Fuck Detka," she groans when you suck on the juncture of her neck, her fingers tangled in your locks as you mark her neck. She tugs your head back and manoeuvres so she can walk up the stairs while keeping you close.
It's as if the world would end if you stopped touching each other, the contact necessary to live as the two of you refused to part on the way to her room. You lost track of how many times you pinned each other to a nearby wall, unable to control yourselves as you passionately pour all your emotions into every kiss.
Eventually, you make it to her room, her body swiftly straddling your lap as her hands drift down your body, pulling on the bottom of your shirt.
"Is this ok?" she murmurs, her tone soft and gentle contrasting the hungry and rough kisses.
"Yes," you sigh out, voice laced with neediness as you look up into her enticing eyes. "I need you, please," the way you look at her indicates what you want, the older woman's gaze softening when she sees how much you desire her touch.
"Tell me to stop and I will," she whispers against your lips, pushing you back so you're laid on the mattress with her soft body on top. You move your arms so she can easily pull your shirt over your head, her eyes drifting down your body while she bites her lower lip. "You're beautiful Dekta," she husks out against your lips, pressing her mouth to yours briefly before letting her kisses trail down your jaw and neck. You blush at her words and the way she takes in your body, breath hitching when her kisses travel lower to your collarbone.
Her hands glide up your body, feeling all the soft skin under her fingertips and enjoying the way your muscles twitch under her touch, moving them until they reach around your back to unclasp your bra. Her eyes ask the silent question causing you to nod, her fingers swiftly taking the item off.
"Oh fuck," you moan out, hands shooting out to grasp at her hair when her tongue licks down the valley between your breasts, pressing sensual kisses around your nipple before casting her gaze up, holding the eye contact, and taking your breast into her mouth. A lewd noise is ripped from the back of your throat at the way her tongue swirls around your sensitive skin, her hand moving to your neglected breast and giving it attention.
Your fingers thread properly into her locks, the soft hair heavenly to touch as her mouth works wonders on you, moving to the other breast and letting her fingers pinch and pull your now wet nipple to make you groan beneath her.
When she pulls back, a string of saliva is attached from her mouth to your chest making you curse at how hot she looks peering up at you with that dominant and seductive look. Her thumb moves to her lips to remove it, the action fuelling your arousal as she smirks at the way your breath hitches at her movements, deciding to torment you a little more. Her face returns to yours, lips pressing against yours for a bruising kiss before pulling back and moving to whisper in the shell of your ear,
"Remember what I said to you on our first night," her tone is sultry while her teeth nibble gently on your ear lobe, a small hum escaping you as that's all you can manage in response. "I said I was going to ruin you Detka, and I will," she chuckles at the way you moan at her words, her index finger moving to the base of your neck so she can drag it teasingly down your body. Her nail scrapes softly at your skin, travelling down your desperate body, between your breasts, over your stomach until it reaches the waistband of your jeans, slipping a finger under briefly before taking it out as she gauges your reaction.
"Please," you whimper, eyes pleading her to finally touch you. "Please, I need you so bad, Wanda please," you beg and her lips silence you, a moan being muffled by her mouth.
"Hush Detka," she coos a little condescendingly and you're embarrassed at how much that turns you on, "I've got you, I'll take care of you." Effortlessly, her hands unfasten your jeans and slide them down your legs, you helping completely rid the item and watching as her fingers glide over the expanse of your thighs.
The green in her eyes has completely disappeared, replaced by hunger and desire as she takes in your needy form panting in anticipation while her fingers inch closer and closer to your dripping core.
A moan spills from your lips as your head lolls back when her fingers finally meet your soaked panties, hips pathetically bucking at the small action. She smirks at your reaction, letting her fingers slowly circle your clit through the fabric, gradually building the pleasure inside you. As she persists with her deliberately slow pace, your hips move against her hand, grinding unabashedly as you crave to feel her doing more.
"So needy, so desperate," she mutters against your lips, claiming them while she removes the drenched fabric from your body, your heart beating wildly in your chest. "So wet," she purrs when her fingers slide through your folds, your arousal coating her digits. A sinful noise escapes you at the feeling of her circling your clit, pleasure taking over all your senses, hands moving to clutch desperately at the sheets by your side.
"Wanda," you sigh out when her fingers move lower, a moan leaving her lips at the way you say her name. You're about to say her name again but it's interrupted by a broken moan when she slides a finger inside you and slowly starts to thrust it inside you.
"That's it baby," she praises, knowing how much you liked it last time, "Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." You moan once again when she adds another finger, pumping both long, slender digits inside you and curling them beautifully inside you. Her leisurely pace soon vanishes when she seems to struggle holding back, teasing herself as well as you at how slow she was fingering you.
"Fuck!" you scream, her mouth claiming yours to muffle the noises she rips from the back of your throat as her fingers speed up, fucking you at a merciless pace. Her thumb moves to circle your clit, adding to the overwhelming pleasure as your hips grind frantically against her hand.
Her free hand moves to interlock with yours, placing it near your head and squeezing it encouragingly as your orgasm approaches quickly, her mouth parting from yours to whisper soft words.
"I've got you Detka, you can let go," you whimper in response, your legs trembling at the amount of pleasure coursing through your body. "Come for me," at her command, you crash head first into your orgasm, a string of moans spilling from your lips while you ride out your powerful release. She presses soft kisses over your face as you come down from your high, tilting your head to catch her lips for a passionate kiss.
"That was..." you sigh out, too blissed out to describe to her the way she sent you all the way to heaven.
"Amazing? Fantastic? The best you've ever had?" she mutters playfully, a chuckle escaping you as she knows it's the first time and therefore the best.
"Don't get too smug," you say, smiling up at her. Her lips tug upwards as she mirrors your content expression while you try and regain your composure.
"Can you do one more?" she asks while letting her teeth bite down on her lower lip, becoming irresistible. Your eyebrows raise at her question, body craving to feel her once again so you nod, letting her take a hold of your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Swiftly, she removes her remaining clothes, her true beauty on show as she straddles your lap completely bare. It was as if Aphrodite crafted her body, sculpting it to perfection.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" she murmurs against your lips, your hands travelling down her body to where she guides you to. She lets you slide a finger through her folds, groaning into the kiss at feeling wet she is, how wet she is because of you. "You drive me insane," she moans out, your finger delicately circling her clit before her hand stops you, a confused expression taking over your face. "I want to try something," she explains, a smirk tugging at her lips as you watch her get into position.
A guttural moan escapes you when her dripping core meets your own, grinding down gently to cause pleasure to consume your body. Her hands brace themselves above your head, interlocking your fingers as she grinds down against you unabashedly.
"Y/n," she moans out near the shell of your ear, a pitiful noise escaping you at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. The sensation of her clit brushing yours, the small sighs being released next to your ear and the fact you just orgasmed causes your next one to rapidly build. Your fingers tighten the grip on Wanda's, your hips bucking up in search of more friction to send you over the edge but restricted by the body on top of you.
A desperate noise rips from the back of your throat when she grinds a little harder, her mouth moving to press against yours momentarily before pulling back and gazing into your eyes.
"Wanda," you groan out, hoping by the way your body starts to tense and tremble she gets the hint that you're close.
"Hold it," she sighs out, grinding even harder and faster against you, the relentless pleasure wracking through your body causing you to throw your head back against the mattress.
"Please," the tone of your voice is nothing but submissive, laced with desperation as you plead the woman to let you come.
"Just a little longer," she pants out, nearing her own release as she thrusts her hips down against you, cursing lowly in Sokovian at the way your soaking cunt feels against hers. "Fuck, come with me Detka," she groans against your lips, both of you falling over the edge.
The room fills with quieting moans and sighs as you ride out the aftershocks of your powerful orgasms, your body twitching under hers as your body buzzes with a slight overstimulated feeling.
A few moments later, soft fingers brush along your jawline and at your cheek, coaxing you to open your eyes and look at her. She smiles tenderly down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before moving off you, pulling your body closer to cuddle into her side.
"I'm sorry about earlier," you murmur into the tranquil room, your head resting on her shoulder as your fingers trace random patterns on her skin, her hands scratching up and down your back.
"Detka-"
"No, please let me finish," you interrupted with a soft voice, tilting your head to look up at her. "I shouldn't have reacted in that way and assumed things without letting you say your side of it." You gauge her reaction to your words, her features softening, "I'm sorry."
"Thank you for apologising," she murmurs back, understanding that you felt like you had to apologise to her even though, in her opinion, you didn't need to. It was an appropriate reaction to seeing someone else kiss the person you care about but she could sense a certain guilt inside you, making her drop the subject.
The two of you remain quiet, simply embracing the moment together and relaxing into each other's arms, the comfort of her body slowly lulling you to sleep.
"Not yet Detka," Wanda whispers, waking you up a little bit to which you groan drowsily at, " You need to get cleaned up and go to the bathroom before we can sleep." You want to protest, too sleepy to do anything but the semi-stern look the older woman shoots your way for not wanting to do any sort of aftercare makes you begrudgingly slip out of the bed to listen to her.
Wanda does the same and helps your tired form, cooing loving phrases as the exhaustion from your orgasms catches up on you, scuffing your feet across her room back to the bed. A content smile plays on her lips at the way you steal one of her shirts and slip it on before joining her in bed, snuggling as close as you possibly could to her.
"I love you," she whispers into your hair as you drift off into a peaceful sleep, unable to stop the smile that forces its way onto her face.
She would never have thought that you, the babysitter, would have been the person to make her feel loved again, but here you were, giving her everything she wanted and more. 
267 notes · View notes
whetstonefires · 2 years ago
Note
Do you have any opinions on Scholomance?
I do! I like it a lot. I really enjoyed all three books, blitzed through them easily and was much more excited to see how the plots unfolded than I'm used to these days, as a jaded adult, and I also really appreciated them as works of craft.
Especially the first one, I spent the whole time being all 'wow!' at how simple it was. So easy to read, but no waste. You really need to know what you're doing, to get that kind of pared-down elegance of form to work and still fit so much content in.
Like these are dense, there's a fantastic stylistic minimalism that allows El's character all the space it needs to breathe by making absolutely every other thing and person in the whole novel also do character work for her, which is exactly where the first person voice shines.
Also great use of character perspective to make the pacing feel really natural, so the fact that the first book takes three weeks, the second book takes one year, and the third book is like. Five or so incredibly stressful days spread out over the course of a few weeks? Doesn't feel imbalanced.
I actually got distracted from the story a few times by noticing the strength of Novik's technique. 😂 This is a me problem, in itself it's the opposite of distracting. Very low-profile.
I think the Scholomance is a great example of how far you can go in specfic when you aren't cringing from the label 'derivative,' because the Scholomance books feel very fresh ad clean specifically because nothing in them is concerned with standing out as 'original,' whatever that's supposed to mean, only with being well-executed and suitable to its task.
Hm, maybe that's where Liesel was born, the intersection of the efficient narrative style and the vast proportion of the story that concerns the maximization of utility and the instrumentalization of persons by themselves and others, and the forces that incentivize these behaviors. Or maybe she's just the narrative counterweight to Orion 'Head Empty' Lake lmao. How's that for a principle of balance, Galadriel?
I really did enjoy how beautifully it was laid out, over and over, in dozens of shades of humanity, how no matter where you go in an exploitative system almost everyone is being driven by the same survival instincts.
Because I don't think I've ever seen made so cleanly clear why you just can't expect any person or small group of people, no matter their level of goodwill or status, to unmake one of these systems from the inside; how it's not a matter of people being bad but of every single person being very...small.
And then not retreating into the idea of a person who is Big coming and breaking the cruel system from the outside as some kind of panacea, because 1) that is terrible, even if it's necessary and done in the best way possible and 2) that's not a sustainable answer to anything. Getting a balance between the protagonist being able to effect change and not subscribing to the great man theory of history can be really tricky!
Also did I mention, I love El, and I love most of the cast, even the dreadful ones. How am I going around with this many feelings about Li Shanfeng who doesn't appear until the actual climax?
The romance murdered me a bit, but it took up no more space than it absolutely needed to do its job, and I respect that. Also I appreciated Orion as a love interest; Novik has a slight record at this point of a version of that style of male love interest who's like a caricature of Mr. Darcy but old, which was shaping up to be my least favorite thing about her body of work.
...Orion is kind of like if you took the human king from Spinning Silver and gave him an alignment flip come to think of it, so he's not coming out of nowhere. Lmao.
Which reminds me (re: romance character typing) I've heard Novik didn't want it to be known she was astolat, which this series has renewed my sympathies if so. Because if I were a published novelist I wouldn't want people going 'you know, that resolution was really emotionally satisfying! reminds me of that fic she wrote where optimus prime and megatron get stuck in a hole underground and hatefuck about it.'
I don't even like Transformers. That fic almost made me cry. Actually I suspect it reads better if you don't like Transformers because I'm sure it does not give a shit about canon.
Anyway, whoever pointed out that one of the things El has going on is she's Enoby (and we're going to sit down and explore what the true reason to put your middle finger up at preps is, and what are some constructive ways to channel that socioeconomic wrath, and what it means that there is no ethical consumption under capitalism) was right and I'm not entirely over that either.
Fucking love El's mom as a character. Spectacular level of parent relevance and usefulness. A+.
Aadhya and Liu are also characters who fucking delivered.
Re: minimalism though, I laughed at the start of The Golden Enclaves when I realized that none of the enclaver characters who'd gotten development in the the first two books were from London, the enclave El was theoretically shooting for when we met her.
1K notes · View notes
lovingmayday · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Miguel O'Hara Spiderman Kiss
warnings : none?
notes : another one that's been stuck in my head for a while. god, i love this man so much its unbearable
There is no doubt that Miguel O'Hara is Spiderman– well, a Spiderman, one of many. He was never bitten but he was genetically modified to have a balance of both man and spider. Although he doesn't have eight eyes and legs, he can shoot webs from his wrists, has fangs that release a paralyzing venom, has claws that surface at the pads of his fingers, and has all of his senses heightened.
He can do pretty much what every other Spiderman can and more.
Except.. stick on walls.
He can climb them, sure, using his claws to dig on any surface. But, let's say, the upside down elevator in Spider Headquarters. He'd have to be webbing himself to the platform if he wishes to not make a fool of himself in front of other Spider-people.
This wasn't a problem to you; you didn't care.. Until you watched the movie.
You asked Jess if she could let you watch one from her dimension because your's didn't have them. She was hesitant but you were so, so curious. What were other spider-people's life like? Your own partner was Spiderman but he barely shares anything about his work. Jess sighs and brings you a flashdrive the next time she came over to your and Miguel's world for dinner.
When you reached the upside down kiss, you were in stunned awe. It was.. a scene. The progression of your reaction was: Oh. Oh... Wow.. That was amazing!
So, you had commenced a plan. When Miguel comes home, you will subtly bring up the movie. You say it's from Jess and pretend you waited for him before watching. You let him find out for himself that it was a Spiderman movie and he rolls his eyes, the urge to walk away persuading him for a moment before settling with an annoyed sigh.
The scene comes up and you cautiously glance at him a few times to observe his reaction. You have yet to pick up anything else from his face other than his resting frown, until he speaks up.
"Wouldn't the rain go down to his nose? He can't be breathing properly like that.." he quietly states and your shoulders slump the tiniest bit. Miguel had an arm draped behind you so you prayed he didn't notice.
"Yeah, I guess," you reply quietly. You didn't know what you were expecting. The position wasn't ideal, anyways. And your hollow apartment ceiling probably couldn't hold Miguel up even if he webbed himself to it, you reason.
The movie finishes and you sit there unmoving for a few moments before nodding your head. It was a great movie. It was sad to think that it was a different dimension's Spiderman's real life but that's to be expected, unfortunately.
You look up at Miguel when he stood from his seat on the couch. "What'd you think of it?" you ask, eyes following his figure when he steadily walked around the couch. Your head rests on the sofa's back when he stops directly behind you, your perspective of him upside down.
"'twas fine," he briefly says.
"What are you doing?" you ask once again, smiling up at him.
You watch as he slowly bends down, hands on the space by the sides of your head. Your eyes widen by a fraction when lips make contact with yours. He was soft and gentle, his touch and scent enveloping your senses. It didn't take you long to respond, humming contently. You close your eyes and raise your hands to cup his cheeks, leaning upwards to deepen the kiss.
By the time you pull back, the both of you were panting. Looking into each others' eyes through opposite lenses. A small smile displays on his lips before pressing another shorter kiss on your lips.
"Ask for it next time, yeah?"
Tumblr media
498 notes · View notes
six-eyed-samurai · 4 months ago
Note
I was finally able to think of a request lol :D
I was wondering if i could get a Gyutaro x reader (female or gender neutral, whichever works best for you :3) who is in a depressive episode and just really burnt out, like barely getting out of bed, not really taking care of themselves unless specifically made to, and how he would react to that considering he’s used to them being pretty outgoing and happy and always doing things.
i’m just needing the comfort right now and who better to do it then probably one of the most protective demons in the series.
have a nice day/night :3
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: Gyutaro isn't the best at understanding emotions but he'll try...even if he fails. A/N: I got what you feel, my sueto poteo begurl! Sorry this took so long, I was busy and Tumblr deleted my first draft T_T WARNINGS: Cannibalism because demons, fem reader, depression My inbox is still open if you would like to request for the event!
Humans are weird.
Of course that was only from Gyutaro’s perspective, seeing as he was a demon and didn't feel the same way humans did about problems or emotions. It made it a little hard to understand why people would get so worked up over problems because as a demon you could solve all of them (they didn't have much honestly) by killing or have everyone cower in fear of you.
Then again as a human, he had solved most of his problems that way as well, so it can be confirmed that Gyutaro was not very good at understanding emotions.
But you were a demon and that was weirder.
For one you were quite upbeat all the time, always smiling brightly no matted what. For another everyone loved you, although it might be because the dumbasses had no idea as to what you truly are.
Third was that while demons didn't need sleep you'd been doing a lot of it lately. That was weird even for you, someone not strong enough to be a demon of importance but not so weak as to be one of those filthy humans.
Come to think of it you weren't just sleeping a lot. He'd barely seen you around but Gyutaro had assumed that was because he had been out a lot of nights hunting, until he realized watching through Daki’s mind that you barely left your room and rarely did anything anymore. If you did it was only because the mistress was bugging you or you were specifically requested. And when you spoke it was a dull monotone of absolute obedience.
You used to be such a pretty little bird! A canary that delighted everyone, especially himself, with your lilting voice and sweet words. Then you became some peculiar nocturnal creature and Gyutaro found that he did not quite like all ugly, dirty things in the dust after all.
But it'd be a lie to say Gyutaro had noticed the change in your behaviour the last few days. No, it had been Daki, something he was ashamed to admit. She had remarked upon your disappearance and had just about thrown him out of the room when he said he didn't notice anything, huffing that you probably were going to think he no longer wanted you.
Idiot, Gyutaro cursed himself, and suddenly was reminded of the first night at the beginning when crush became confession.
“You're mine,” he'd hissed, and tucked away in his protective hold you had laughed lightly and agreed if he'd be yours in exchange.
You were his and Gyutaro took care of his most precious things. VERY good care of his things.
***
It's been a while since he entered your room.
Gyutaro hunkered down beside you, curious and confused. Your blankets were strewn all over the place and your head was buried under a mound of pillows; it was obvious that you hadn't moved in hours. A skeletal hand hovered above your shoulder, unsure if he should awaken you…or if you are even sleeping. You looked rather unhappy even relaxed.
“Gyutaro.” Your eyes cracked open, his name a statement rather than a question, but there was some surprise in your tone nevertheless.
Gyutaro did not like the look of you, for you looked dead but not in complexion - rather the dimness of the life spark that he had enjoyed watching snuffed out when he killed. He grunted in reply, eyeing you suspiciously. “I haven't seen you in a while.”
“I suppose you haven't.” Your shoulders sagged. “I'm sorry, I'm kind of tired tonight. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?”
“Tired?” Gyutaro recoiled sharply, hurt and a little mad. “You…don't want to see me?”
“No. I just meant tomorrow.” You struggled to muster a smile but he snarled at no one in particular, nails gouging into the wooden floor, before he was gone in a flash.
Clearly something must be bothering you, Gyutaro reasoned to himself as he made his way back to Daki’s room. Something that must be affecting your energy and mood. You couldn't possibly be fed up with him, were you?
No, you promised!
There must be something else, something else the cause of your problems. Whatever it was Gyutaro would get rid of it, preferably painfully, but first he would have to watch you keenly.
It wasn't spying, not technically, when he was only trying to look out for you and after a few days Gyutaro finally came up with an answer. For whatever reason you hadn't left the house to hunt and so you must be starved of a good meal, he concluded. People loved you, thinking you were just an ordinary human, so perhaps the mistress was adding more to your workload or you couldn’t say no to accompanying one of the girls during the night. Easy, he could remedy that! Especially when he found the two guys who had disrespected you oh so badly not too long ago.
He lugged the two corpses back to your room, getting through the window quite effortlessly. You were awake this time, he was happy to find, and picking at the knots in your hair in front of your vanity, your brush lying forgotten on the ground.
You frowned, though. Not what he was expecting. “What…is that?”
“For you….to eat.” Gyutaro scrunched up his eyebrows, baffled when you made no move towards it. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Your shoulders sagged again. Uncertainly your hand reached out and patted his hair briefly before withdrawing. “…I already ate, Gyutaro, and it’s not hunger that’s bothering me.”
“…it’s me, isn’t it? Do - have you found someone else?” Gyutaro began to panic and rage. “I’ll kill him! Who is he? Is he handsome? NEEEH! I’ll do better, I swear, I’m sorry I’m so ugly-”
“No! Not like that!” Your hands shot out again to assure him, but it only lasted a few moments. “I’m just…tired. I’ll be alright in a few days but I don’t really have the energy to see people right now.”
“You…don’t want to see me?”
“No, that’s not what I-”
Gyutaro’s nails gouged into his cheeks this time as he disappeared out of your room, disappointed.
***
Daki didn’t want the humans either.
“EW! BROTHER, WHY WOULD YOU BRING BACK SUCH UGLY PEOPLE! I’M NOT GOING TO EAT THEM! THEY’RE JUST GONNA TAKE UP SPACE IN MY OBI AS WELL!” Daki would’ve kicked them away from her if her dress hadn’t hampered her movements. Gyutaro growled under his breath but began to eat them himself. “Why don’t you give them to (y/n) ? She usually eats ugly things like these.”
“Shut up already!”
“Hey, I saw you coming out of her room just now, did you-”
“I SAID SHUT UP!”
“Someone’s touchy,” Daki sighed, rolling her eyes. “Did she reject them?”
Rejected me, more like, Gyutaro grumbled to himself. He looked up from his meal, considering things. Daki was a girl and your friend (sort of), perhaps she’d know what was wrong with you. “She’s been weird lately. Doesn’t eat much and shit. Why?”
“You gotta finish your story first!”
“I dunno alright! She just spends her time either in bed or asleep, doesn’t do anything unless you ask her, doesn’t even wanna see or talk to me since a few days ago!” Gyutaro threw a bone across the room in frustration. “It’s like she’s kinda unhappy. Did something happen?”
“Kinda unhappy? Now that I think of it she got assigned to the new oiran a few days ago and she treats the girls worse than I do honestly.” Daki suddenly sat up straighter. She’d finish doing her lipstick and now she looked ready to chuck it at her brother. “Did you not notice? Oh my god, you’re so dense! She’s unhappy and you didn’t do a thing about it!”
“WHAT?!”
She did throw it at him. “Go comfort your precious girl in her depressive episode, you stupid dumbass! Honestly, I’m a demon and even I understand emotions better than you.”
***
It seemed like no matter how nice you try to be some girl’s always laughing at you behind her fan and due to the shortage of girls in the house (you suspected to be caused by Daki, but you had your fair share as well) the mistress had been pressuring you to work harder for the new oiran and nothing was to her satisfaction.
Every minor accident magnified tenfold and every day it felt like you were on the verge of tears or…actually, absolute numbness. You didn’t want to care anymore, so despite not needing it anymore you started spending more of your time asleep than awake, eating the minimum to live. Why did you live anyway? Probably because you were too afraid of what happened after.
And you still wanted to hang around to be with Gyutaro…even if he hurt you with his apparent indifference to your current situation.
Everybody was indifferent, in fact. The truth was nobody cared. Nobody was going to come into your room and ask if you were alright, for everyone was too caught up in their problems.
Well, except for whoever’s hand it was that suddenly grabbed you.
Your eyes shot open at once and you grabbed on tightly to the familiar person now carrying your oddly gently, bridal-style, out of your bedroom via the window and climbing upwards agilely. A very familiar someone with a skeletal body frame, an untidy mop of green hair and grey, spotted skin.
“Gyutaro?!” Your voice should’ve been hoarse from the lack of use and water but instead the yelp came out louder and clearer than intended. “What are you doing?!”
He didn’t answer, only set you down on top of the rooftop carefully and settled down next to you awkwardly, scratching away at his neck and arm. Gyutaro nodded upwards. “Just watch.”
And the sky exploded into millions of colors.
“…a fireworks show?” It’s been a while since you’ve smiled, but the way your mouth hung open and widened at the same time couldn’t be helped as you gazed at the vibrant sparks shooting up. Your hand, out of habit, inched closer to his and intertwined fingers. You were startled when he yanked you against him, almost in a cuddling position, but pleased.
“Daki told me. Thought I’d take you to see it since you won’t leave your room otherwise.” Gyutaro seemed to be steeling himself for something, scratching harder. “…you can tell me if you have problems, y’know? I won’t get it but Daki’s a girl and I’ll…try.”
It’s been a while since you actually broke down, let a few tears fall and have someone tuck you closer to hold and comfort while you poured your heart out like a flood after the dam breaks down. It felt good. Gyutaro listened and he was good at it, not punctuating it with blunt “I could go kill thems” or turning away stiffly saying he didn’t understand you and your emotions like he used to, like you thought he would. Occasionally he’d squeeze your hand tight when one particularly loud and beautiful firework went off.
It was…he really knew how to make things better, huh?
“Thanks…” You pressed your head into the bony crook of his neck. “For this. Feel free to kidnap me anytime for a fireworks show, I guess.”
“I’ll take you to a better one next time. And I didn’t kidnap you!”
Ah, that laugh. How he missed hearing it, even over the boom of the sparklers.
The pretty little bird was back and quite surprisingly Gyutaro discovered he could still feel after all: relief and…affection for you.
62 notes · View notes
srovtl · 6 days ago
Text
(in here, a magic that connect hearts) Figaro SSR Card Story Translation
Tumblr media
Translator note: This, and all the fifth anniversary card stories, reference each character’s affection story (which can be read here) and I recommend reading them beforehand.
The future illuminated by moonlight - Episode 1
Akira: (Where could Figaro be? There aren't any missions today, so I'm pretty sure he's in the magic manor...)
One day, some time after I started living at the magic manor.
It's been several months since I interviewed each wizard and wrote about them in the sage’s manual.
Now that I'm closer to everyone than I was back then, I'm going around asking them again, hoping to make the content new.
Akira: (? I hear voices coming from the common room...)
Figaro: Hey, Mitile. I'm so happy you're asking me about a problem you're having with your magic practice.
Figaro: I've been getting rejected a lot lately.
Mitile: I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...
In the room was Figaro, sitting on the sofa by the window, and Mitile, floating on a broom through the open window.
Mitile was in his practice clothes, so he must have been practicing magic outside.
Figaro: Ah, I didn't say it to trouble you. So, what do you want to ask?
Mitile: Um... is there any trick to sustaining the powerful magical power that's been revealed?
Mitile: Like when pushing back a strong tornado.
Figaro: Not an attack spell to knock it away?
Mitile: Yes. I've always been anxious to get stronger, but...
Mitile: Recently, I think I've started to understand why I want power.
Figaro: I see. You've gotten stronger, Mitile.
Figaro: Let's make that the topic of tomorrow's lesson. Self-study is fine, but don't push yourself too hard.
Mitile: …! Thank you!
Akira: (Mitile looks so lively... He must be happy that Figaro is teaching him the things he wants to know.)
Mitile turns around and leaves. At that moment, I heard footsteps from behind.
Faust: What are you doing, sage?
Akira: Wha, Faust?! Um, well...
Figaro: What are you two sneaking around doing? I'm getting jealous.
Figaro pops out of the common room. Knowing him, he may have already noticed that I'm here.
Faust: I wanted to discuss something about class, but it seems the sage was a little early.
Faust: I'll come back later.
Akira: S-Sorry. It's not urgent, but long story short I wanted to talk to you about the interview.
Figaro: I'd be happy to. No need to keep standing here, let's go to my room.
Figaro: Hm? Faust, you have dark circles under your eyes.
Faust: I just had trouble falling asleep last night. Nothing to worry about.
Figaro: I see. Then I'll bring you some herbs to help you fall asleep later.
Faust: It's just one night, Don't make a big deal out of it...
Figaro: Faust.
Faust: ……..
Faust: Fine, I get it.
Akira: (When looking at them this way, it's like Faust is Figaro's student too. They were originally in a master-disciple relationship after all...)
Akira: (Not only young wizards, but also long-lived wizards like Faust rely on him.)
The future illuminated by moonlight - Episode 2
Snow: Sage, how many sugars do you want in your tea?
Akira: Just one, please!
White: Okay! What about Figaro-chan?
Figaro: I'll go without. Also, why are you two in my room?
Snow: Hohoho! Because we heard the sage was going to interview Figaro.
White: As your master, we may be able to give you some advice. Also, I have to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't go too far.
Figaro: No trust at all.
Akira: Haha, it's okay. Figaro is a kind person, and I can always rely on him.
Akira: He has a broad perspective, is knowledgeable, and carefree...I don't think I'm the only one who's been helped by Figaro.
Figaro: I'm so happy to hear you think of me like that.
Figaro: Shall I tell you a side of me that you may not know yet?
Snow, White: That's what we mean, Figaro-chan~
Snow: But... There's no mistaking you for anything but an exceptional wizard.
White: Here, let us spoil you sometimes. Is there anything you want?
Figaro: Hmm, let's see.
Figaro: Maybe high-quality liquor? A fruit liquor that's been aged for hundreds of years under the eternal snow of the north...
Snow, White: Sure!
Figaro: Eh?
Snow, White: Here 《Noscomnia》!
As the two chanted the spell, an old-fashioned bottle appeared in their hands. The amber liquid swayed through the glass.
Snow: You play a part in running this ill-fated magic manor.
White: It's a master's duty to listen to their disciple's whims and show him kindness too.
Figaro: Are you sure? It must be quite valuable.
Snow: Of course. We received it as a tribute some time ago, and it's been sitting in the warehouse ever since.
White: Shall we have a toast now? I'm sure the sage will join us.
Akira: Yes! I'll just have tea, but if that's okay.
Figaro: Even the sage...
Figaro: Thank you. But I'll just accept the sentiment.
Figaro: I have some in stock on the shelves in my room, and I don't want to make you guys drink just for me.
Snow, White: Eh~ You sure?
Figaro: Besides, I'm going to talk to the Sage now, so I'll have some tea for a while.
Akira: Figaro...Thank you. Well then, let's get the interview started!
The future illuminated by moonlight - Episode 3
That evening.
Figaro: …….
While walking to the courtyard, I found Figaro sitting on the edge of the fountain with a glass in his hand.
I remember meeting Figaro here after my previous interview too.
Figaro: Oh, sage. You look happy. Did something good happen?
Akira: Good evening, Figaro. You looked like you were enjoying your drink so.
Figaro: Is that enough to make you happy? You're so cute.
Figaro: This is the drink we were talking about this afternoon. It's so good, I should have accepted the twins's after all.
Figaro: I had plenty, but this is the last glass.
Shaking the amber in his glass reluctantly, Figaro looked up at the moon.
Figaro: The moon is beautiful tonight too. It seems today is a day I get to talk a lot with you.
Figaro: Want to join me in a chat while I drink?
Akira: Yes, of course! 
I nodded and sat down next to Figaro.
The night breeze brushed against our cheeks. The sound of leaves rustling, and occasional voices coming from the magic manor.
Amid the quiet, comfortable hustle and bustle, the ice in the glass clanged.
Figaro: ...Hey. Do you remember the Moon's road we talked about here before?
Akira: ……
Figaro: Oh, I'm sorry. Was I being a bit mean?
Akira: No, it's just...
A moon road floating on the sea. Figaro once entered the freezing sea, chasing the light of the moon.
Everything that had parted with him lived in that beautiful silver world of the moon...
Figaro said that he saw it as a pathway to reach that place.
Akira: Do you still want to go beyond the Moon Road, Figaro?
Akira: The hometown you lost, the people you were separated from by death...
Akira: To meet all the people who left you behind.
Figaro: Let's see… What do you want me to do?
The silver moon shone on him.
The wise eyes of someone who has lived through so much time, quietly wait for my answer.
Akira: I don't want you to go.
Akira: There are still so many sights I want to see with you, so many things I want to do, and I haven't repaid your kindness yet.
Akira: I still haven't found a way for you to be happy.
Akira: And, more than anything, I'll be sad to say goodbye.
Figaro: Then, I won't go.
Akira: Figaro...
Figaro: I'm still here. Is it boring to give you the same answer as last time?
Akira: Not at all! It's the best answer. To me… it's really...
Figaro's long fingers lift his glass. The little bit of amber liquid that remains tilts, and his throat sallows.
He put his empty glass down and laughed softly.
Figaro: That's good to hear.
I can only say because it's now - Card Episode
Figaro: Hello, sage. Did the interview go well?
Akira: Yes! Talking to you all again, I'm deeply moved by the fact that we've spent such a long time together, even though it seemed short.
Akira: Some people have told me things that they can only say because it's now... Is there anything like that for you, Figaro?
Figaro: Hmm, I guess so. It's not really because it's now but...
Figaro: When I get cold in the night wind, I think drinking alcohol is good, but I've come to think that drinking hot tea is also good.
Akira: Maybe... you remembered what I recommended to you when we interviewed before?
Figaro: Yeah. The other day, I made some hot tea after I got back to my room.
Figaro: Thanks to that, I slept well.
Akira: That's great! Drinking alcohol while enjoying the night breeze must be nice, but...
Akira: I'd be worried if you got sick, so please keep it in moderation.
Figaro: If you say something so cute, I guess I have to be careful.
Figaro: In that case, would you like to join me for tea time again tonight so we don't end up drinking too much?
Akira: Yes, of course!
Homescreen Voiceline
One time, I offered to make a promise to someone, but I got rejected because they said they couldn't trust me. ...I wonder if, even a little, I've become a man who is worthy of trust now?
40 notes · View notes