#it is frustrating to try to explain to them

[zhelin-thames]

Tiny baby ghost

idea from Prompt for @silverblueglitter

The summoning circle glowed an eerie green, casting sharp shadows around the Justice League's meeting chamber. John Constantine, sleeves rolled up and cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered the last words of the incantation. The room held a tense silence, broken only by the faint hum of the magical energy.

When the green smoke cleared, instead of the imposing figure of the Ghost King they’d expected, a scrawny teenager in a black jumpsuit with white gloves and boots appeared, looking distinctly unimpressed.

“Seriously?!” Danny Phantom groaned, throwing up his hands. “It’s a school night!”

The room collectively blinked. Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged confused glances. Batman’s eyes narrowed behind his cowl, while the Batkids—perched around the room like chaotic gargoyles—leaned forward, intrigued.

“This… is the Ghost King?” Nightwing asked, his voice skeptical but amused.

“Ghost King?” Danny repeated, holding up a hand. “Nope. Wrong guy. Try again.”

“Clearly, this is a child,” Robin said flatly, stepping forward with his arms crossed. “Either the summoning ritual failed, or we’ve been deceived.”

“Who are you calling a child, mini-Nightmare?” Danny shot back, floating an inch off the ground to look taller. “I’m fifteen. How old are you, eight?”

“I am fourteen, you insufferable spirit,” Robin snapped, glaring daggers at him. “And you are woefully unqualified to speak to me in such a tone.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, Robin Junior. Let me know when you grow a sense of humor.”

Red Hood, perched casually on a table nearby, barked out a laugh. “I like this kid already.”

Robin scowled. “You would.”

Red Hood swung his legs off the table, standing to his full height. “Alright, Casper, if you’re not the Ghost King, why’d this ritual grab you instead?”

“That’s a great question! Wish I knew!” Danny said, throwing up his hands.

Constantine frowned, stepping closer. “You’re definitely ghostly, mate, and half-alive by the looks of you.” His sharp gaze softened just slightly. “You’re a bloody halfa.”

Danny froze, eyes darting to the swirling green barrier still holding him in the circle (not really). “I’m a ghost. And yeah, I’m alive. What’s it to you?”

Batman loomed closer, his deep voice cutting through the room. “If you’re not the Ghost King, why does this summoning work?”

“Great question! Wish I knew!” Danny threw up his arms again, his ectoplasm glowing faintly in frustration. “I don’t even know who you are, and you’ve already ruined my night! or Maybe the universe hates me. That’d explain a lot!”

“Who even made this circle?” Red Hood asked, pointing at Constantine. “Did you check it? It’s glowing green. That’s ghost vibes, man.”

“Thanks for the observation, Red Hood,” Constantine said dryly. “What gave it away, the ectoplasm or the ghost?”

“You are in no position to demand answers,” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re worse than my parents,” Danny muttered.

Before Batman could respond, the air grew colder. A heavy, oppressive presence filled the room as green flames erupted in the middle of the chamber. From the flames stepped Pariah Dark, fully armored and radiating raw power, his glowing eyes zeroing in on Danny.

The League tensed, weapons at the ready, but Pariah didn’t even look at them. Instead, his expression softened in a way that could only be described as paternal as he reached out and plucked Danny out of the circle like a child grabbing a stuffed animal.

“Who dares summon my child?” Pariah rumbled, his deep voice shaking the room. He cradled Danny in one massive hand as though he were the most precious treasure in existence. Danny, for his part, just sighed and leaned against one of Pariah’s fingers.

“Dad, chill. They’re not trying to hurt me—” Danny shot a glare at Batman, “—yet.”

“‘Dad’?” Robin echoed, utterly baffled.

“They stressed him out,” Pariah continued as if Danny hadn’t spoken. “This is the third time in two weeks. Do you know how much sleep he’s lost? He has school!”

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The third summoning this week,” he growled. “And for what? To disrupt his rest? His studies?”

“Studies?” Robin repeated incredulously. “This alleged ‘Ghost Prince’ is concerned with—”

“School,” Red Hood supplied helpfully, smirking. “That tracks. He’s just a kid.”

“I’M NOT JUST A KID!” Danny protested, his voice cracking slightly. Jason snorted.

Before anyone else could respond, Fright Knight materialized beside Pariah, his armor gleaming and his sword crackling with ghostly energy. He took one look at the summoning circle and grimaced.

“Shall I eliminate the offenders, my liege?” he asked Pariah, his grip tightening on his sword.

“No!” Danny yelped, waving his hands frantically. “No eliminating, no smiting! We talked about this, remember?”

Pariah sighed, his massive shoulders slumping. “They stressed you out,” he rumbled. “They should pay.”

“They’ll be fine,” Danny muttered. “Just… let me handle it, okay?”

“‘Fine,’ he says,” Red Hood muttered. “We’re seconds away from getting blasted into the afterlife.”

Robin's hand drifted toward his sword, his eyes darting between Pariah and Fright Knight. “This is absurd. We are the Justice League. Surely, we are not so easily—”

“Shut it, kid,” Consttantine interrupted. “Unless you want to test if we’re actually ‘fine.’”

Danny groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Wonder Woman stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We summoned you because we need the Ghost King’s aid to stop a catastrophic magical event threatening the world.”

“Then why not summon him?” Danny snapped. “I’m not the king!”

“Yet the ritual brought you,” Batman said, his voice a mix of curiosity and accusation.

Pariah’s gaze darkened. “The crown does not transfer unless challenged. And none shall dare challenge my son.”

Danny squirmed in his ghost-dad’s grip. “Okay, Dad, they get it. Can you not threaten to destroy the world for five minutes?”

Pariah huffed but gently set Danny down, though he remained close, a looming shadow of protective menace.

Constantine rubbed his temples, muttering something about “bloody teenagers” and “overprotective ghost tyrants.” Meanwhile, the Batkids exchanged glances, clearly plotting something.

Danny sighed. “Look, I’ll help you guys with your big, scary magical problem, but can we make it quick? I have a chem test tomorrow.”

[gf2bellamy]

explanation — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: an officer won't stop talking to you content warnings: annoyed spencer, light flirting between reader and spencer a/n: had to write something for glasses reid also he looks so good in this gif ohymgod also this is short sorry

You forced a polite smile, though your patience was wearing thin as the police officer in front of you continued his overly enthusiastic explanation.

His words blended together, a relentless drone that made it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

Still, you nodded along, trying not to seem rude despite the growing urge to check your watch or glance elsewhere. 

What you didn’t notice was Spencer standing just a few feet away. He had been watching the exchange, his hazel eyes flickering between the officer and you.

From his position near the evidence board, he clutched a file in one hand, the papers inside creased slightly from the pressure of his grip.

His other hand, balled into a tight fist, remained at his side. 

It wasn’t like him to eavesdrop—at least not intentionally—but something about the way the officer leaned just a little too close to you made it impossible for Spencer to look away.

His jaw tightened as he struggled to focus on the task at hand, attempting to study the crime scene photos tacked to the board in front of him. 

But his mind wasn’t on the case.

It was on you.

On the way you shifted uncomfortably, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you nodded at the officer, and the way your lips curved into that soft, practiced smile that Spencer had seen you use before when you were trying to be polite but had no real interest in the conversation. 

He knew you well enough to read the subtle signs.  

He didn’t want to interrupt—he wasn’t sure if he had the right to.

Finally, Spencer cleared his throat, the sound sharp and deliberate as he took a step closer. 

“I’ve already explained it to her,” he said flatly.

The monotone delivery caught you off guard, and you turned around quickly to face him, your eyes meeting his behind the familiar frames of his black glasses. 

Spencer wasn’t typically one to interrupt, especially not in such a dry way.

The officer, clearly thrown off by Spencer’s blunt interjection, shifted his weight uncomfortably and gave a half-hearted nod. “Oh, uh… right. Well, if you’ve got it covered, then…” His voice trailed off as he stepped back, offering an awkward smile before retreating. 

You raised an eyebrow at Spencer as the officer walked away, leaving the two of you alone near the evidence board. “What was that about?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. 

Spencer shrugged, the file still clutched tightly in his hand. “Nothing,” he replied, his gaze darting to the board as if suddenly engrossed in the timeline pinned there. 

But you weren’t convinced. Spencer Reid was many things, but subtle wasn’t one of them—not when it came to how he felt.

You noticed the way his jaw tightened, the faint crease in his brow, and the tension in his posture. 

“Spencer,” you pressed, stepping closer.

He hesitated, his fingers flexing around the edges of the file before letting out a small sigh. Finally, he glanced at you, his expression softening just slightly. “I just didn’t think it was necessary for him to keep… explaining things to you,” he said, his words measured. "I already told you everything."

You frowned, trying to piece together the odd behavior. “I mean, he was being—” 

“He was wasting your time,” Spencer interrupted, his tone firmer now. His eyes flicked to yours, the frustration evident behind his glasses. “You already know what you’re doing. You don’t need someone like him hovering over you like that.” 

The realization hit you like a slow-moving train, the pieces falling into place.

Spencer wasn’t just irritated—he was jealous. 

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you watched him try to keep his expression neutral, though the faint pink tinge creeping up his neck betrayed him.

“Spence,” you said softly, a teasing lilt in your voice, “were you jealous?” 

His eyes widened briefly, and he immediately shook his head. “Jealous? No, I… I wasn’t—” He faltered, his ears turning red as he fumbled for a convincing denial. 

“Sure you weren’t,” you teased, crossing your arms as you leaned slightly toward him. “It’s okay, though. It’s kind of… sweet.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, realizing there was no way to argue without making it worse.

Instead, he sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

Your smile softened, and you reached out to gently touch his arm. “I’m glad you’re looking out for me. But you don’t have to worry—I’m not interested in anyone hovering over me. Unless, of course, it’s you.” 

That earned you a shy smile from Spencer, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with relief. 

And just like that, the two of you returned to the case—but not before you caught the subtle glimmer of satisfaction in Spencer’s eyes. 

[raevenlywrites]

There is one instance of my parents striking me that left any kind of "good parenting" impression, and it fits none of the standard "spanking as punishment" situations (which I did also experience before someone tries to say I just dont get it).

The first time I got in trouble for hitting a fellow child (i dont even remember anymore if it was a sibling or classmate), my dad knocked me flat on my ass. I dont even think he actually hit me, thats not what left the impression. The impression- and indeed the lesson he was aiming for- was the terror of someone looming over me, the knowledge of the physical advantage he had over me.

"Youre gonna grow up to be bigger than everyone around you," he said (and I did, my whole family is around 6' or over). "You will always have to be careful of your body and your emotions, and how you use both. Dont hit; it sucks."

I did not grow up to not hit. Other lessons of violence were too common for me not to reach for violence when emotions were high. But I did grow up to always pause before violence, to try other options first, and only every reached for violence when other options failed.

I cant think of less than a dozen times I reached for violence. I am not particularly proud of any of them.

But I am proud of my dad for trying to break the cycle of egregious physical abuse his parents heaped upon him (too numerous to recount, but full on horror stories, I assure). I dont think his lesson was the best way, but I do think it was the best he could come up with at the time. And I do think it was that desire to help me break out of the cycle, not the hitting itself, that made the impact (pardon the pun).

I remember doing the same thing to my little brother the first time he got physical with the siblings. "We dont hit. I hit you and it sucked, right? Don't do that." I caught him copying me one day, smacking his sister upside the head and saying "hitting sucks dont do it". Now I watch him with his own children, patiently parenting and explaining emotions to his children who are almost too small to speak. I like his way better. I know my dad would too.

I dont have a tidy thesis for my thoughts. I seldom do. But that moment is one that stuck with me and I always think of it when spanking comes up. The stark difference of how calm and teacherly my father was in that moment, compared to all the anger and frustration that came with every other time I was ever physically "punished". I learned that when my parents couldnt control me, they lashed out. I learned that my father didnt want to, didnt think it was the right way to be. Learned that sometimes the emotions overtook him anyways. Learned that he wanted to be better that, and wanted me to be better than that.

When people get pregnant, they will give up smoking, give up alcohol, give up coffee and soda, give up fondue and raw cheese, give up cold cuts and sushi, all because they have heard somewhere, from someone, that these things can be bad for the baby. They don’t know the research, haven’t looked at the studies, can’t talk about sample sizes and control groups. But their dedication to their future child’s safety is so strong, their caution is so overpowering, that they give up these things just in case. 

So it baffles me when those same people will insist on spanking their kids. 

Even when they are shown the research.

 Regardless of what the experts in the field say. 

No matter who says it. 

Or how it is said. 

People are so invested in this ability to hit their kids without judgement or consequence, that it absolutely confounds me. 

[eunoiiz]

☁︎—enhypen reassuring you about your relationship

☁︎synopsis—enhypen comforting you about their love for you₊˚ෆ

☁︎genre—hurt/comfort. enhypen hyung line x reader.₊˚ෆ

☁︎warning—crying. idk mentions of cheating or whatever. swearing. intended lowercase. not proofread. wc(range)˚˚˚300—500 each.₊˚ෆ

☁︎kassiddi's note—trying a headcannon!! or whatevs it's called i forgot… might do a maknae line !! but for now i decided to do something to upload (so it's rushed) and i also didn't know how to properly title this.₊˚ෆ

ʚɞ—lee heeseung˚˚˚

hearing from a handful of your friends that heeseung was cheating on you was not taken lightly to heart. your heart sank, throat stung and eyes began to fill with tears as your ears rang.

you never believed the “playboy” rumors since you met him, and he'd always denied them when people approached him and accused him of cheating on his exes. you believed him over these 3 months.

you turned around, heading for the office to call in sick, when you saw him. them. heeseung's face just inches away from one of the girls you'd thought was his ex.

you ran for the office, dropping your backpack to shed off some weight. you didn't have anything important in it, anyway.

the sound of running behind you soon after caused you to attempt to enter the girls restroom, but you didn't make it as the steps were faster. the person spun you around.

“what the fuck do you want heeseung?!” you shouted through streams of tears, trying to get him off you. “please, let me explain.” “what the fuck is there to explain? everyone was right about you, hee!” you ignored his pleas, releasing yourself from his grip and beginning to storm into the ladies restroom out of frustration.

“i’m not cheating on you, y/n, please believe me.” he begged, rambling as fast as possible before you walked too far into the bathroom to hear.

“then what was that, heeseung? how can you explain how close you were to miyeon, and all the rumors?” you wiped away your tears. “it wasn't anything y/n—” “it seemed like you were about to kiss her to me.” you couldn't face the male.

“i was angry with her y/n, i couldn't stand the rumors she was spreading and wanted to confront her before they got to you and made you like.. this.” he explained, trying to reassure you. but you weren't so sure, at all. you didn't know if you could believe him.

“she's been wanting me back since i broke up with her, and she's spread these rumors from the beginning. i’ve never cheated on anyone. please believe me, baby.” sincerity tainted his voice, and painted his face when you finally turned back around to look at him.

“do you promise? how do i know i can trust you?” your voice shook, the uncertainty remained. “i promise, love, please. miyeon was my first girlfriend, y/n. the crazy one i told you about. she hasn't changed. i’ll so anything to make you believe me.”

your heart rate slowed, although you still weren't sure you could trust him again.

“i’ll try to believe you hee.” you mumbled, allowing him to caress your check, using his thumb to swipe away your tears. “thank you, doll. i promise i'll prove my love to you, a hundred—no, a thousand times if i have to.”

ʚɞ—park jongseong˚˚˚

“y/n, i heard around that jay is just using you to get back at his ex, but im not sure. i hope it's false but i wanted to let you know, sorry.” jisung whispered into your ear while passing by during lunch, smiling apologetically at you.

you smiled back, though it quickly fell. deciding to confront your boyfriend before class started, you hurried eating. you were torn between anger and sadness.

you checked the time, 15 minutes until the bell rang. enough time to call his ass out, in private though.

your eyes searched the cafeteria, eventually landing on a blonde male, the best friend of your boyfriend, and your boyfriend right next to him.

standing up, tray in hand, you tossed it into the nearby trash, proceeding toward the man.

“up. we need to talk.” “wha—” “now.” you forced him up, tugging him by his hoodie sleeve into a more secluded area.

“what's this about, my love?” he questioned, a puzzled look plastered all over his face while he stood with his arms crossed.

“don't act so stupid with me, jongseong. you had me here loving you for months because i really thought you loved me but your only with me because you wanna make your ex jealous? what the hell?” you ranted, infuriated.

“woah, bae, slow down. what?” he quizzed, you could tell he was genuinely confused but you were too angry to take time to let him even breathe. “you know exactly what i mean, stop doing that.”

“y/n, slow down. you know im not like that, my love. who told you this?” he placated. “jisung! he's a distant friend, but i trust him! and he's not even the first person who I've heard this from. i think he got it from hyunjin, or leeseo, or maybe even minhee! it's just been going around too much and—” “darling…” he trailed off, silence taking over for ten seconds.

“you realize all of the people you just named don't even like you, right?” his hand reached for yours.

“oh.. well, still?...” you muttered, glancing away. your face heated, feeling a bit dumb but still unsure. “how do i know you aren't with me for that, though?”

“let's go talk to jisung first, okay? clear up somethings and ill come over later, darling. i love you.”

he interlinked your hands, “i love you too, seong.”

ʚɞ—sim jaeyun˚˚˚

you've never been able to get over the crush you've had on jake since you were little, but you also couldn't bring yourself to confess either.

“thank you, jakey!” a girl’s voice sounded through the halls.

turning the corner, you watched as the girl released her grip on his forearm and gave him a tight hug before he sent her off into the classroom. you hated that, such a small thing.

but it didn't feel right to feel so angry, he wasn't even yours.

you figured it would be better if you headed off to your own class, and tried to forget about it so you’d feel better. lunch was after one more period.

maybe he could hang out with his new girlfriend that he hadn't even told you about, and you'll spend lunch with someone else.

when the bell rang, you packed up as quickly as possible, not wanting to encounter them again. even though you still caught a glimpse of them on your way to your next class.

“y/n—” “in a hurry!” you spewed, speeding down the hall and past the couple, you did not want an introduction to his new girlfriend. you wanted to be his new girlfriend for years, but those chances seemed like zero.

so once again, when the bell rang, you made sure to pack up as quickly as possible. but when you stepped outside, you saw a face you didn't want to at that moment.

“oh, think i left something in my last class, jake! you should head to lunch—” “what's up with you? i've been trying to introduce you to my cousin! she's 2 grades behind us, i was hoping you were okay with helping me show her around, y/n. you could've said you weren't.” jake explained.

holy, did you feel stupid?

“..cousin?” you were stunned, internally killing yourself. “yes? why? someone jealous?” he smirked, obviously teasing but you might as well spill it.

“yes, actually.. i thought she was your girlfriend and i thought my chances with you were gone and—” a peck, another, another, and another that turned into a longer kiss.

“i thought you didn't feel the same, pretty.”

ʚɞ—park sunghoon˚˚˚

“y/n, would you help me with something?” sunghoon called you over. “yeah, what is it?” you stood up, walking over to his desk and pulling up a chair right next to his.

“this is a confession letter! im giving it to yuna, i just need to go over the grammar and decorate it a bit—”

“confession letter?” your brows furrowed, jealousy starting to build up inside of you. “uhm, yeah! can i get that help?” he asked, holding the card out in front of your face.

“oh, yes of course, should i go over the grammar?” he nodded. you flipped open the card, the corners decorated in pink bows, the edges lined in pink glitter and the i’s dotted in hearts. you wanted to rip up the card, a bit overwhelmed by jealousy.

“i would like to be your valentine…. mmmm.. you're the most stunning girl I've ever seen…. i’ve had feelings for you for so long..” you read aloud as sunghoon watched your expression. “seems all good to me, i also didn't know you could decorate like this, hoon.” you caressed the bows, all the things you loved drawn into a card—that wasn't for you.

“only the best for who i love, right?” he smiled, taking back the card.

“right.. anything else?” you tried to keep your composure, not wanting to spill all your emotions out to your best friend who didn't seem to feel the same.

“yes can you help with this envelope? i need to decorate it and sign it. mind using these glitter pens? oh and make sure to add the bows in the corners!” he exclaimed, turning to his laptop and focusing on a level he'd been trying to be on his game.

a couple moments later and you slip the card into the pastel envelope. “there.” you slid it across the desk. “perfect, she's gonna love it.” he smiled proudly. “you're the best, n/n.”

“mhm. you never told me you had a crush, hoon?” your eyes never left the card, neatly tucked into the envelope. it bothered you so much and you couldn't shake that feeling.

“well, i actually wanted to tell you after i handed yuna the card, but i guess there's no point now.” he scratched his nape, then reached toward his mini shelf and between books.

he pulled out another card, decorated similarly. “no kidding, hoon. why have me help make a card look all pretty for her and then tell me you liked her? and for so long?” you were so upset, but you didn't want that to show.

“liked her? ….yuna? oh, no stupid. this is for jake! he had soccer practice so he wanted help with a confession card, because valentine's day's tomorrow and he didn't think he'd have enough time.” sunghoon explained, the other card in his other hand, sliding it towards you.

“read this, y/n.” you picked up the card, opening the envelope and then the card.

‘dear y/n, i’ve had feelings for you for so long and could never tell if you felt the same, but i wanna ask you now, would you be my valentine? you're the most wonderful girl and i’m so lucky to have you. (hopefully) you're future boyfriend, sunghoon’

“oh my gosh, sunghoon. i hate you so much.” you smiled to yourself, taking a moment to take it in. “so.. is that a no?” he joked, laughing. “no you idiot, i’d love to be your valentine, and future girlfriend.”

thank you for reading♡ i appreciate any interaction with my writing, i just do it for fun(⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

please do not steal or repost on any platform. i only publish these to tumblr under the username eunoiiz.

[andhumanslovedstories]

you think often of how nurses should speak and relate to patients, and i highly appreciate knowing you put this kind of thought in and share it with other nurses. but as someone who often occupies the patient position, i'm curious if you have any thoughts on ways for patients to interact with nurses, when we are in decent enough control of our faculties to make choices about that. i would like this knowledge from both an altruistic perspective in recognizing nursing is difficult and not wanting to voluntarily make it difficulter, and a wholly self interested position of knowing nurses who like interacting with me give better care. what helps as a professional and as a person?

I'm surprised how much I had to think about this question. What do I want patients to do? I don't know. A lot of it is basic human decency, some of it is specific to my nursing workflow, but overall I find it complicated saying what patients "should" do. I cut out about 500 words of navel gazing from this post explaining why. Here are answers I've come up, in no order and not of equal importance.

--a lot of it is basic "polite interaction with another person in a professional setting." If you're asking this question, you probably care about treating people well in general. If you wouldn't say it to a barista, would you say it to your nursing tech?

--don't do joke answers to basic orientation questions like "what's your name" and "where are you right now", because it's annoying to have to clarify if you're actually confused or if you're fucking with me. I know they're annoying. Just answer correctly so we can move on.

--have some flexibility and patience. Hospitals have a lot of moving parts, and each person interacting with you has other patients that also need care. My hospital and state has mandated nursing ratios. The maximum amount of patients I've had in one assignment is five. Other hospitals have far less protection, and nurses may have six, eight, twelve other patients. Our respiratory therapists each cover multiple units. One CNA might cover the entire floor. I know if melatonin is the difference between you sleeping or not sleeping, it is very frustrating for someone to bring it late. I just ask you keep in mind that there's dozens of reasons that might happen besides someone ignoring you.

--help us help you. If you can lift your arm up for me to put a blood pressure cuff on, why are you holding your arm completely limp so it's like putting pants on a toddler than doesn't want to get dressed? If you can help roll yourself in bed, help us roll you. If your IV is beeping, hit the call light so someone can come turn it off. If you don't have urgency issues and you can tell you're going to need to go to the bathroom soon, call before it's an emergency. If your IV hurts when I give you medication at 8 pm, tell me then, not when I'm trying to give you your midnight antibiotic and all the evening staff have already gone home.

--if you don't understand how something works in the hospital (what happens when you hit the call light, how often are people going to take your vital signs, why can't I get up and walk around the room), just ask. It's really easy for people who work in a hospital every day to forget other people aren't familiar with it.

--don't treat doctors noticeably better than you treat everyone else.

--pet peeve number one: if I give you pills in a med cup, you can just use the med cup to get the pills to your mouth. You don't need to pour the pills into the palm of your hand and then pop them into your mouth. You're gonna drop the pills, and I'm gonna end up on the floor looking for a tiny tablet of dilaudid.

--bundle requests, especially low-importance ones. If you ask for crackers and you know crackers make you thirsty, just request your drink at the same time. Don't make me walk to your room, the nutrition room, and your room again ten minutes later.

--I don't expect people in the hospital to be pleasant all the time, and I don't take snappiness personally, but I always really appreciate the patients who apologize or even just acknowledge their behavior.

--I love patients who acknowledge my work. I don't need effusive praise or a thousand thank yous. It means a lot for someone to just be like "hey, thanks for your help tonight."

--have patience with repeating yourself. If you've got something important and complicated to convey, practice a quick understandable blurb that takes no brain power from you. There may be something that you've told the staff a dozen times, and it may be documented in your chart, but in the hospital you see many people who have never worked with you before and for whatever reason didn't read that info in your chart. For example, I'm a float pool nurse which means I almost never see the same patients twice. I can get sent to a different unit and a different patient load at literally any time. I can't familiarize myself with complicated documentation or read every nursing note. Especially not for patients I know I will only have for four hours. I know repeating yourself is annoying, I know it sucks to have to explain your bathroom routine or your preferred pain med or when you like to get pills or whatever every shift. And it's great when people make that information very easy to find! But if you just accept the reality you'll be repeating yourself a lot anyway, it makes doing so less frustrating.

--pet peeve number two: don't exaggerate to make a point. This is such a human thing to do, and god knows I catch myself doing it all the time, but you can raise objections in a way that's factually true. I've got a lot of concrete data that people are very often wrong when they say they're been "waiting for hours" after hitting a call light. The computer has a time stamp of the last time I was in your room. I know it was 45 minutes ago. There's a timer by the call light. I know you called twenty minutes ago. And I know it feels much longer when you are waiting for basic cares or pain control or anything pressing. Things can be unacceptable without needing to be exaggerated. When the exaggeration is the base of your complaint, it undercuts your credibility. Honestly I find it really irritating when I spend a disproportionate amount of my shift with one patient only for that patient to tell another staff member that I've been neglecting them. Just say I did a bad job, don't pretend I wasn't there at all.

--don't ask me to pull my mask down so you can see my face. like cmon dude.

--I'm not saying you have to send all your visitors out of the room when I'm there, I'm just saying have some sympathy for how nerve-wracking it can be to do your job while being intensely watched by five other deeply invested people with limited context for your actions.

--this is a nebulous and difficult one. You might have a lot of emotion that you don't know what to do with. What you shouldn't do with it is channel it into every interaction you have with a healthcare worker. If you feel guilty about how you haven't visited your mother in a while and now she's in the hospital, you gotta find ways to deal that don't involve getting extremely passive aggressive at your mother's night nurse.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Part 4: Worldbuilding Pass

Next up, worldbuilding! We're tackling this before structure, because you don't want to get too far into the weeds, realize a critical component of your story is wrong, and then throw your computer out the window in frustration.

Anyway, when it comes to worldbuilding, there's a lot of moving parts. There is no right or wrong way to worldbuild, but my preferred approach is to worldbuild as the story goes along. Any method works, and you can check out the worldbuilding tag for more. In editing your worldbuilding, you want to think about:

Trimming Front-loading/Info Dumps

When writing fantasy/sci-fi, getting down how the world works can take over the story. In first drafting, this is fine! But when you're trying to clean that draft up, it's better to weave this information in as you go.

Need to explain how the giant mechas guarding the city operate? Maybe your main character is trying to steal some precious alloy from one, giving you opportunity to explain how they work and how society feels about them. Have a magic system that relies on singing tunes? Show that off by having students practicing, or dueling rivals taking it too far.

You probably know by now that the thing you should avoid the most is "as you know" dialogue dumps - characters explaining concepts to each other that they both clearly understand. Another, weaker version of this is the "magic class" trap, where things are explained to the main character and the reader. A classroom environment is fine, but pair worldbuilding with action - demonstrations get out of hand, spells go wrong, etc. Make it fun!

Your World Needs Clear Rules (Sorry)

Listen, this is the part I hate. I have a WIP with the word "Rules" in the title and I'm still figuring out what those rules are. Argh. But the sooner you know the rules, the easier editing will be. The more clear those rules are to the reader, the more impactful breaking them will be.

If the rules of the world (you can't use warp speed too close to a planet's gravitational pull, the same type of magic cancels each other out) and the consequences of breaking them are clear, the pay-off will be satisfying for both you and the reader.

Use Your Environment to Your Full Advantage

You've no doubt heard 'make setting a character' and that's evergreen advice. Some of the best books out there are those where it feels like you could step through the page and into a real place, be it your childhood middle school or Narnia. Getting that feeling, however, is more than just describing a place really well.

Mood - How does the location make you feel? Does a dark, cramped room leave the characters with a feeling of dread? How would that feeling change if it was an overstuffed library with comfortable chairs?

Weather - Beyond the 'dark and stormy night' descriptions, weather impacts our daily lives and is often overlooked. A rain-drenched funeral scenes seems like it's the way to go, but how differently would that scene feel if it was a sunny day with birds singing?

City Versus Countryside - These books are a great reference for description, but also take a step back to compare how different situations would feel both in the setting and to your character. Quiet can mean very different things depending on where you are. A morning fog in the countryside might feel comforting to someone used to it, but to someone new to that environment, it might feel creepy. Think about both your environment and how your character reacts to it based on their backstory.

The Empty Room Problem

This is always a big challenge when moving from the first draft bare bones basics to fleshing things out. How much description is too much? (As a note, it's always okay to overcorrect - you'll have a chance to fix it later!) This post from @novlr has a lot of great questions - but you're still going to narrow it down to the most important details.

Escape the Movie Setting - You cannot describe the room like it's a movie set. Trying to do so is going to be overwhelming, and important details will be lost in the attempt. If you were to describe your room or your favorite coffee shop and could only highlight four or five details, what would you focus on? What gives the reader the essence of the place rather than a list of things that exist there?

Establish the Essentials - Is this your first character's first time in this room? Is it going to be key to several plot-important scenes? Some big, sweeping details when entering - how big it is, what's in it, where the windows are, how it feels, etc - are good to start with. Your character can briefly admire a full bookshelf in the first scene, and then study it in more detail in the second. If you have one scene in this place and spend too much time describing it, you're going to make your reader think it's more important than it is.

Engage the Senses - Does an old room smell musty? Does the coldness of the woods have a sharp taste? Does touching a shelf bring up a lot of dust? How does the lighting in the room make the main character feel?

Getting down the description of a room or setting is not something you'll nail in one shot, but if you approach each scene asking yourself "does this feel like a real place or a white room?" you can narrow down what's missing.

[icarusredwings]

Obedient demons, devlish Angels.

Wade is so bad at his job he almost starves to death. And Logan is so bad at his, that he makes sure He dosn't.

Tw: depiction of rejection sensitivity, vauge sex, open/closed relationship dynamics, sick/ill demons, "eating" problems, what the title says.

@nuggetpool-hi

No one:

Wade, rubbing up against Logan like a cat: Plllleeeeaaasseee?? Pretty please? I'm staaarrvvinngg Loagie!

Logan, sitting in a chair reviewing the bible: You just ate yesterday; Wade. You aren't starving...

Wade: Yes, I am! You left me here to go spend the night with kurt so Im hungry! Honest! Please?? I'll be quick! You won't even know im down there-

Logan: Enough! I'm tired of this. Stop. Every time I come back, all you wanna do is have sex and I know you kinda have too but I dont want to! Do you ever think about that? Do you ever stop and wonder if I even want to?!

Wade, backing away, tail tucked: ......i-.. I do all the time...

Logan: Apprently not because I already said no! And you just keep-.....

Wade: *anxiously picking at his nails, head down and clearly ashamed to just exist* ....sorry...

Logan: No... Wait- Wade no... I didnt-

Wade, already crying, streaks of red coming down his neck and cheeks: n-no.. Its okay.. i-I wont ask anymore..

Logan: *sighs* I didn't mean it like that... Im just.. frustrated...

Wade, hurt, tears falling: I-its fine.. really. I Just..y-youre so nice to me when-.. when we do it and..and..

Logan, getting up: *reaches out a hand* No, Wade, I didn't mean to- You dont have to find someone else. Ill do it, Just.. just gimme a second okay?

Wade, shaking his head, backing up: No.. I-i wont ask anymore. It's fine.. dont worry about it..

Logan, watching Wade lay down and curl up on his side of the bed, now feeling terrible: ...so... y-you aren't hungry anymore..? Or.. cause we can! I dont mind Its just... *another sigh* Look. Wade.. I don't want you to be hungry..

Wade, whispering: I'll be okay...

Logan then puts his stuff away, trying to pull Wade close. He's squirming, trying to shy away but Logan forces him to stay in his chest, kissing his forehead and softly apologizing. Wade's bloody face heightens Logans primal angelic insticts, fighting the adrenaline rush of battle to keep his touches gentle, rubbing his back with slit yellow eyes. Being a warrior of the lord was difficult when demon bloods scent alone activated the strong desire to overcome evil, esspecially when the one in your arms isn't evil at all, just forever hungry.

*The next day*

Logan: Waade. Im back! Let me eat real quick and ill feed ya.

Wade: *streatches and yawns* Mmh Nah.

Logan: Nah? But yesterday you were whining about how hungry you were.

Wade: Im not hungry anymore. Got some pathetic sap in the chapel.

Logan:...... you..got someone else?;

Wade, non sarcastically, if anything simply explaining: Yeah. Thought you were getting tired of feeding me so.. you know. Besides. Gotta keep the sinners coming back right? Heh heh."

Logan: .....Yeah.... yeah.. thats fine.. thats.... who was it?

Wade: i...I dont know? Just some guy. Fuck, Angel, If I didnt know any better Id say you're acting.... jealous~"

Logan, biting his tounge: No! I just dont-...nevermind..

Wade: You don't like what?

Logan, thinking, his chest tight: I... I don't like you feeding on others.

Wade, gasping: Really!?

Logan: B-but its not like that!! I-i just mean- what kind of an angel would I be if i let a demon feed on the innocent?

Wade, now giggling: Ohh yeaahh suuuree

Logan, finally coming to lay down: Im serious!! You might accidently drain them too much and then what would that make me? A terrible protector. Thats what.

Wade, now pulling his face close, holding his cheeks lovingly: D'aaaaaww~ Loagie baby dosn't want me sleeping around on him? My big brave strong angel boy wants this demon ass all to himself? Hm??

Logan, blushing: No!! I didn't say that! Im just doing my duty as an angel to protect citizens and-

Wade is smirking: Oh yes, your civil duty of fucking a succubus every day, right? Liks you Sooo dont love my tight ass? Hm? And when I nip your balls or when-

Logan, completly red: ENOUGH! ..S-shut up..

This bickering and banter goes on for a while longer before they end up cuddling and falling asleep in each others arms. Wade feels loved in an emotional sense, it feels much better then the other 'love' he got ealier.

*the next x 7 days*

Logan: Hey Wade. Service ended early today and Kurt has a meeting. So im all yours. What do you w-.... Wade? Are you alright?

Wade, weak, curled up inside of the blanket: ....

Logan: Wade?? Come on, don't trick me. Whats wrong? *puts his hand on his forehead. He has a fever but he's shaking. Or was he just hot cause hes a demon? Either way, hes too warm for Logan's liking.* Do demons get sick?

Wade, clinging to his hand with his own, desperate for attention and affection: .. Please..

Logan: Please what? What do you need?

Wade, whos clamy, breathing uneven, and who is now whimpering: N-nothin... i-im fine.

Logan: Wade... tell me whats wrong.

Wade, shaking his head: N-no...I-i dont want to ask anymore..

Logan, finally getting it, realizing that this last week has been all cuddles. He hasn't fed Wade in an entire week: Come on. Get up, Ill-

Wade, whining as if it hurts to talk: I can't..

Logan, now worrying: Y-you cant get up? Oohh.... fuck wade!! Why didn't you say anything!? When I said I didn't want too at that moment I didn't mean starve yourself to death!! Shit!.. okay.. uhm..

Wade, tearing up, silent and holding his hand, logan is squeezing it: ...Im sorry... i-i didnt want to make you upset...

Logan, panicking: Why didn't you just-?!

Its now Logan remembers telling Wade he isn't allowed to feed on the church goers or clergy anymore. He feels terrible.

Logan: You... you listened.. you obeyed an angel?

Wade, eyes closed, trying to ignore his pain: Only my angel...

Logan, smiling, feeling himself tear up. One drops onto Wade.

Wade, whining because angel tears are holy water: OWCH!! W-whhhy??

Logan: Sorry! Sorry I just.. *wipes eyes* Im going to fix this. I promise. Can I fix it? Please?

Wade: If youre asking consent to fuck me then Yes.

And so Logan does. Connecting their foreheads, their tears softly mixing into a slight diluted sting each time they touched one another, kissing like it was the end of the world, the passion and adjustments Logan had is slow. Tender. And passionate. The kind you only really gave to a loyal lover who you've just returned to. A farmilar feeling of home and satisfaction feeding Wade back to health. They must have fucked at least three times that night because in the morning Wade was springy as ever, like a spring chicken being put into a new pasture, the old tired cock trailing behind just happy that the hen was healthy again.

[fuck1ng-queen]

Better than the series

Noah Sebastian x Reader 

Rating: 18+

Warnings: light discussion, you being a bit shitty, jealousy, oral sex, Noah using that damn mustache

Author comments: hi bestiessss, how are you? if you follow me, you may have seen a post i made about mustache!noah a few days ago and honestly, i didn't think that post would get so many notes (which makes me think that mustache!noah is something everyone is interested in). anyway, i'm going to hell for thinking about noah like that and i'm taking all of you with me, kisses!

"It was great, guys! Thank you so much! See you next week!" You said, pretending not to be so enthusiastic.

You finished your work and lowered the screen of your laptop with excitement. Friday afternoons were always full of expectations. The daily stress of adult life kept you away from your boyfriend much more than you would have liked, so the closer Friday night, the sacred moment for both of you, got, the more butterflies danced in your stomach. Of course, you weren't a little girl anymore, and you weren't in the "getting to know him" stage, but damn, when you realized who you were dating, it was hard not to feel like jelly.

You took a quick but strategically effective shower, dressed comfortably, perfumed your hair with Noah's favorite scent, and quickly ordered a car to be there as soon as possible.

With a backpack on your back and a smile on your face, you arrived ready for your special evening with Noah. It didn't matter what you were going to do, what mattered was that you were together. The door opened and he greeted you with a warm hug and a kiss before you snuggled down on the couch. How good it was to be with him, you felt as if the week hadn't passed you by, as if being in the warmth of his arms dissolved all the pain and worry in your life. You just wanted time to freeze so you could stay there forever, just you and him.

"I counted the minutes until today. Our Fridays are sacred, but some weeks are so exhausting that they make it even more special," you smiled and patted Noah's cheek. "What do you want to do today?"

He kissed your forehead, the mustache he had invented to keep on lately tickling you slightly and making you giggle.

"I love our Fridays too. But there's one thing… the guys are organizing a gaming session tonight," Noah replied.

You pulled away from his embrace a little, just for you to see him more clearly, blinking your eyes a few times in a row. "But today?" you asked, confused. "Noah, it's our night."

Noah scratched the back of his head, knowing his explanation wouldn't go over well, but he tried to explain himself anyway.

"It's Jay's birthday. He's alone at the exchange and we want to give a little joy to his day. I promise it won't take long."

You understand that Jay is alone and he misses his friends, especially Noah since they've known each other for so long, but you can't hide your frustration and immediately cross your arms in disappointment.

"You're always talking to them, we hardly have time for each other."

"But we're together every week, we see each other all the time, and Jay? Look at his side, the guy's all alone there. I bet you don't want to feel alone."

You stand up, getting off Noah's lap and reply, still frustrated, "Alone? That's how you're leaving me, alone. You should pay attention to me. It's Friday, Noah, our day!"

He stands up, and although you love that look on his face, his already closed face gets on your nerves. You hated it when Noah did that.

"Fuck, am I not here? I don't leave you alone, have I ever left you alone? I understand that today is our day, I really do, but you could put yourself in other people's shoes a little," Noah sighs, trying not to be a jerk and get into an argument with you. He thinks of better words to say to you before he continues. "He needs it today, he's been feeling very lonely lately."

You exchange glances: from his side, the silent plea for you not to be as angry as you already seem to be; from yours, the growing tension and frustration. You sigh, not wanting to start a fight, but feeling deeply annoyed.

"Fine," you just give in, seriously. "But I'm not happy about it."

Noah kisses your lips and only replies, "I promise it'll be quick. You can stay in the room with me while I play, I don't want you to feel left out."

You enter the room together, but the atmosphere is still charged. Noah begins to set up the computer for the game while you sit on the bed, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Gotta call Emma so we can watch something on call. At least that way I won't be totally left out and I'll have someone to talk to."

"Sure, good idea. Just don't be too mean to the character on the show," he replies absent-mindedly, but trying to be nice.

"Don't worry, he'll have all our attention," you reply, giving him a cynical smile.

Noah nods, a little relieved, as you pick up the phone to call your friend. He sits down in his gaming chair, turning on the neon light in the room, and off the regular bedroom light to make the room comfortable for both of you. He adjusts the headset to start while you lie on the bed fiddling with your cell phone, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

"Okay, guys, I'm here. Let's get started before Jay shows up."

You call your friend, and she somehow comes over to keep you company. You sit down on the bed with your laptop next to you and start watching the show. Noah, next to you, remains focused on the game, occasionally casting a furtive glance at you. A scene begins, highlighting the show's main character. He's handsome, wearing a shirt that, despite its formal appearance, is brightly colored and has some of its buttons undone, tight jeans, and aviator glasses that hide his deep brown eyes. But what really catches the eye is his distinctive mustache.

"Look at that man, that mustache is quite a sight," Emma jokes, her voice electronically present in the room. "This guy definitely knows how to use it to his advantage."

Noah, between the music playing and the laughter of his friends, hears you both burst out laughing, the sound echoing around the room, and he makes a point of very discreetly removing one side of the headset from his ear, curious to know why you're laughing.

"The mustache is like… a sign of confidence. I bet he must be amazing in bed."

"Totally! Do you think he's good in bed just because he has a mustache?"

"Absolutely! He must know exactly how to use it. Just think, a guy with a mustache like that must have tricks we can't even dream of."

Noah finds himself increasingly interested in the conversation and can't help but mute the sound of his headphones, trying his best to pay attention, one eyebrow raised in excitement to know how far your conversation is going, and just pretend to play.

"It must be the kind that takes your breath away in seconds," you say, unaware that Noah is listening. "The kind that knows what they're doing, the kind that's… experienced."

"A lot more than most. If a guy with a mustache like that paid attention to me, I wouldn't care about anything else, I'd just need him and a glass of water to live."

You laugh at Emma's comment, but then you look at Noah out of the corner of your eye and become serious again. "Yes, but some people prefer to play."

Noah continues with his temporarily forgotten game, pretending not to be hearing, but his expression with his back to you shows that he heard every word you said. "To play, huh?" He just moves his lips, speaking silently.

The conversation between you continues, full of laughter and bold comments about the character on the show. Noah keeps the microphone muted for long moments, discreetly observing the interaction.

The show ends and Emma says goodbye to you. Your phone vibrates with a message from your friend:

"It was fun, but I'm going to leave you to sort things out. Good luck!"

You reply with a few words: "Thanks. See you, Emma."

You get into bed, feeling a little better for the laughs with her, but still annoyed that Noah's game is taking longer than he promised.

"Good night, Noah," you say, turning your back on him, then mutter something inaudible, still slightly annoyed, but mostly frustrated. He should have at least warned you that the evening was going to be like this and that you'd be ready to do something else.

Noah doesn't answer, otherwise you might think he was listening the whole time. He sighs, knowing it will take an extra effort to get your attention again.

(…)

The night stretches on and Noah finally shuts down his computer and takes off his headset. He looks at you lying on your back, and even though you're asleep, he knows that you're clearly distant. Without forgetting how you've been thinking about the man in the series, he laughs softly, touches his own mustache, and something in him is ignited.

He slowly moves closer, snuggling up to you under the covers, already pushing your hair aside to make room to kiss your neck, deliberately brushing his facial hair. You slowly stir from the tickle you feel and finally wake up when you feel Noah's big hand playing with the nipple of your breast under your clothes.

"Noah…" you sigh, still sleepy. "What are you doing?"

He keeps tracing long kisses down your neck, making you shiver, and in a low, teasing voice he says in your ear, "You think I'm not paying attention, don't you? Those comments about the guy on the show… Do you think he could make you feel that way?"

Your sleep begins to dissipate as he kisses you, making you sigh, feeling your resistance melt away.

"Did you hear that? I was just kidding…" You turn your face to find his almond eyes staring at you with desire, your ass beginning to feel his bulge growing behind you.

He pulls the blanket off you and turns you over on the bed, kneeling in front of you and pulling off your shorts and panties together. He pushes your legs apart and you moan softly, already completely surrendered to the moment.

"Kidding?" His laugh makes you throb. "I'm going to show you that I'm much better than any guy you see on TV."

And he dives between your legs, ready to taste you, but mostly to tease you. He kisses one side of your groin, then the other, making a point of brushing his facial hair against you, noticing how wet and thirsty it makes you.

"Noah… Please…" you moan, trying to move your hips closer to Noah's mouth. He smiles smugly and runs his tongue along your folds, which are throbbing with excitement.

He turns his attention to your clit, sucking and sucking, making everything hotter and wetter. The hairs on his mustache, which you had just imagined tickling you while watching the show, only made you feel more pleasure. Noah tastes you like a hungry man and brings you closer and closer to coming apart.

"Look at you, you tremble every time I run my mustache over that needy pussy… I don't think I'll be shaving anytime soon. Do you want me to shave, babe?" he asks, laughing and rubbing his nose against you.

"N-no Noah, I don't want you to…" and you moan as you feel two of his long fingers penetrating you, unable to finish the sentence. "Noah, please…"

He is relentless in the way he moves his fingers inside you, knowing every point of you, knowing exactly what to do to turn you on. Without much effort, he feels you clenching against his fingers, your thighs shaking in spasms, and he hears your voice break into a loud moan calling out to him as you cum hard in his mouth.

He pulls away from you and kneels in front of your still-spread legs to appreciate your throbbing folds and your flushed, orgasmic face. "You're such a silly girl sometimes." He smiles and runs his fingers, which were inside you moments before, through his own mustache and ends up sucking on his own fingers. "This is for you to learn to appreciate what you have."

And then he just gets up and leaves the room, laughing at the incredulous way you look at him, trying his best to maintain the idiotic character he's just created, even though he knows he'll be buried inside of you in a few minutes, making you cum a few more times to live up to your special Friday.

.

Masterlist | Send me an ask to join my taglist

@lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @kenjipepsi1 @chey-h @concretejunglefm

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

Heya I’m here again! Hope you don’t mind.

I had a funny/cute Shadow x reader x Silver fanfic idea where shadow and Silver go through ridiculous lengths to try and one up each other trying to get more of the reader’s affection but reader tricks both of them to be at the same place and they all live happily the end.

“The Plan of All Plans”

Pairing(s): Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader x Silver the Hedgehog

Requested: Yes (by @shadowchan009 ).

Description: Being in love with two hedgehogs who always tried to one-up the other was a bit annoying. But you had two hands; so why couldn’t you all just date each other?

Notes: Ooh, my first poly request! And hello again! I don’t mind you requesting a lot, I like your requests! They’re tons of fun! I hope you enjoy this one too!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

To say you were miffed would be an understatement.

You were frustrated.

Sure, it was amusing at first seeing the two hedgies try to one-up the other, but at this point it was just ridiculous.

So to stop this, you had a plan.

You had two hands! You liked them both! And they should respect that!

So you were going to convince Shadow and Silver to both go on a date with you at the same time, without the other’s knowledge.

Getting to work, you first called Shadow, who, as he usually does, picked up your call on his communicator immediately.

“Hello, [Name],” Shadow says. “To what do I owe the pleasure of having you call?”

“Weeeell, I called to ask you out tomorrow night,” you tell him. You see his face tint green through the screen. Chaos, he’s adorable like that.

“Tomorrow night?” he asks.

“Yep! It’ll be at seven o’clock sharp, my place,” you tell him.

“I’ll be there,” he tells you. “See you then, [Name].”

“See you then, Shads,” you say before hanging up. “Now to call Silver!”

“Call me for what?” a voice asks from behind you, causing you to jump slightly, before you realize it’s just Silver.

“Hey Silver! I was just about to call you,” you tell him. “I wanted to ask you to come to my place tomorrow night.”

“Sure! What time?” Silver asks.

“Seven o’clock,” you reply.

“I’ll be there! Cya [Name]!” Silver says, waving goodbye before running off.

This was going according to plan.

The next day went by faster than usual, though you only supposed it did because Shadow and Silver were likely preparing themselves for the date.

You had just finished setting up the place with a movie you knew they both liked and an assortment of snacks, putting on a nice outfit as well, when someone knocked on the door.

You glanced over at your clock momentarily.

Seven o’clock, on the dot. That had to be Shadow.

You open the door and your prediction was right, Shadow was standing there in nice clothing, his quills up in a ponytail (and chaos did he look nice like that).

“Hey Shadow! Glad you could make it,” you tell him.

He lets off a nod, looking at your choice of clothing with a small green blush tinting his face.

You move aside to let him in, closing the door behind him.

“Go ahead and relax, I’ll be on the couch in a sec,” you tell him.

He does as told, sitting down on the couch.

As soon as he does, another knock is heard at the door, causing Shadow’s ear to flick.

“Did you order a pizza or something?” he asks.

“You’ll see!” you reply.

You open the door and there’s standing Silver, also dressed in quite a nice outfit.

“H-Hey [Name], hope I’m not too late,” he says, and Shadow’s ears both flick in an agitated way.

“No no, you’re fine! Come on in, Silver,” you tell him, letting him in.

Before he can get far, Shadow is standing in front of the both of you, a glare on his face.

“Shadow?! What are you doing here?!” Silver asks.

Oh boy, here it goes.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Shadow spats. “[Name], explain.”

“Okay, okay. I invited the both of you over at the same time on purpose,” you explain. “I’m tired of both of my crushes fighting over me like children.”

“Y…You have a crush on me?” Silver asks, his face tinted red.

“I don’t understand…Both of us?” Shadow asks.

“I have two hands, you two,” you say. “Ever heard of the word ‘polyamorous’?”

“No, that’s not one I’m familiar with,” Shadow says.

“Me either,” Silver mutters.

“It’s when three or more people, or in our case, mobians, date at the same time,” you explain.

“And it doesn’t count as cheating?” Silver asks.

“Nope!” you reply. “I wanted to make sure the both of you were here to see if you were okay with it.”

Shadow pauses for a moment before sighing.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to kiss this idiot anytime soon,” Shadow says.

“Yeah, same here,” Silver states.

“I wasn’t gonna suggest it. You two put that idea in your own heads,” you reply.

This causes both Silver’s and Shadow’s faces to flush their respective blush colors, causing you to laugh.

They couldn’t make you happier.

[kalkaros]

@maxdibert I love your posts and your contributions to the snape fandom, and maybe I'm out of pocket for saying this but you might be taking this a bit too far. It's not an insult to snape fans or anyone if someone simply doesn't like him, isn't interested in him or dislikes him. It's not an insult to the snape fandom or anyone of people enjoy fiction and fandom in a different way than you.

I personally like my things canon-compliant and am annoyed sometimes when fandoms over concentrate on fanon, like in HP fandom for example, but that doesn't mean that fanon is somehow worse or the people who enjoy fanon more are somehow inferior. Of course the behaviours that can be linked with those preferences can be negative or even despicable, but honestly, that's not exclusive to any specific fandom or a way of interacting with them. Saying that only creates polarization and inflames the relations between the factions further.

I also disagree with using the "this person is bad, therefore you shouldn't like them" argument you are using here for characters like Barty and Wormtail. It's the same argument people often use against Snape. It doesn't really matter if Snape or Wormtail or whoever is actually "bad" or not in anyones opinion - people are allowed to like or dislike characters for any reason and even if they are morally dubious or straight up "bad people".

I do get that hypocrisy and bad arguments are annoying. When someone completely mischaracterizes the character and then proceeds to criticize them based on their own mischaracterization - or try defend a character for those reasons, and so forward. And I understand the frustration when people tag negative opinions or possibly controversial takes to the main tag. But in the end, being agressive or demeaning will never change anyones mind, it will just make you more bitter (or at least that happens to me). And I don't think the OP here even did that, they just explained why they like and dislike these characters which is an opinion they are entitled to.

Once again, I appreciate your opinions, Max and agree with the wide majority of them. I appreciate your knowledge and experience that you incorporate into them. I'm not saying no one ever makes shitty arguments against Snape and for Marauders - I know just as well as you how much this happens and how frustrating it gets.

Please, don't take this as an attack towards you, because I don't mean it as such, not in the least. I hope you continue your awesome contributions to our fandom, and take the breaks you need if it gets too grating <3

"how can you like barty and evan but not snape?" "how can you like peter but not snape?" silly rosekiller and wormtail visions came to me in my sleep, and i simply didn't have such visions of snape. will update if i see him as a boykisser in my dreams and it alters the way i see him :)

[magnificentmiraclenacho]

The sister of the winner

Part 2= The salesman

Summary: When gi hun wants to take down the games he faces a lot of problems. But one problem he also has is his relationship with his sister minji ( reader ). Gi hun dosent want to tell her about the games do to her innocent. But what happends when the salesman lores her into the games, and the siblings finds them self fighting for their lifes

---

The dim kitchen light flickered softly as you and Gi Hun sat at the small table, finishing dinner. The smell of warm rice and grilled fish still lingered in the air, but there was an unusual silence between you two. It wasn’t the easy comfort you usually shared while eating—something felt off.

You took a bite of your food, glancing at your brother. He seemed distracted, his usual bright energy absent. His eyes kept flicking to his phone, then back to his plate, and there was a quiet tension about him you couldn’t ignore.

After a few moments of eating in silence, Gi Hun broke the stillness, his voice low but casual. “I have to leave tomorrow for a few days… business trip.”

You paused mid-bite, looking at him with surprise. “A business trip?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the sudden news made you uneasy. “What business? Since when do you go on trips for work?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, pushing his food around on his plate. “Just something I have to take care of. It’s not a big deal. I’ll be back soon.”

You studied him, unsure of why his words didn’t feel reassuring. There was a weight in the way he said it, like there was more to the story. But instead of pressing him, you just nodded. You’d gotten used to him shutting you out in recent months, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Okay,” you said, forcing a smile. “A few days isn’t that long.”

Gi Hun looked up at you, a small, almost apologetic smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. You’ll be fine while I’m gone, right? You don’t need to worry about anything.”

You felt a flicker of frustration rise in your chest. Why does he keep saying that? You opened your mouth to say something, but you hesitated. He was already shutting down—again.

Instead, you swallowed your words, giving him a tight smile. “I’ll be okay, Oppa. You don’t have to worry about me.”

There was a brief silence as he met your gaze, and for a moment, you thought he might say more—maybe explain a little more about why he was going, or at least reassure you in a way that felt real. But instead, he just nodded, his eyes flicking back down to his food.

“Good,” he muttered, his voice softening. “I’ll be back before you know it. Just keep an eye on things, okay?”

You nodded again, trying to push down the unease that crept up your throat. “Sure,” you said quietly.

---

The conversation went back to small talk after that, but the air between you felt thick. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, something he wasn’t telling you. The way he kept avoiding your eyes, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes—everything about this felt different.

But for now, all you could do was nod and pretend it was normal. Just a trip, just another thing he had to do. And in a few days, everything would be fine again… right?

---

The evening had been quiet after dinner. Gi-Hun had told you that he was leaving for a “business trip” the following day. You hadn’t thought much of it at first. He seemed distracted lately, but that wasn’t unusual. He’d been under a lot of pressure, and you knew it. Still, something in his tone had felt off, like he was hiding something. You brushed it off, deciding not to press him further, though a small knot of unease had begun to form in your stomach.

You settled down on the sofa, mindlessly flicking through channels on the television, but nothing seemed to grab your attention. The weight of the evening hung heavy on you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Gi-Hun’s sudden change in demeanor, his cryptic “business trip” excuse—there were too many unanswered questions.

Minutes passed, and you lost track of time, consumed by the quiet hum of the television and the thoughts swirling in your mind. You couldn’t focus on anything for long. There was this nagging feeling that something was off.

Just as you were about to put the remote down and head for bed, the sound of the front door opening caught your attention. You looked up to see Gi-Hun standing in the hallway, his coat on, keys in hand.

“I’m heading out to see someone. I won’t be gone long,” he said, his voice unusually calm, as if trying to sound casual.

Something about the way he said it made your heart tighten. You’d never been a particularly suspicious person, but now, for the first time, you found yourself feeling unsettled. His tone was too indifferent, too distant. And the way he said he wouldn’t be long—yet didn’t explain where or who he was seeing—set off an alarm in your mind.

A wave of anxiety washed over you, and you couldn’t just sit there anymore. You needed to know what was going on. You stood up quickly, trying to mask the sudden rush of panic, and excused yourself from the room.

You stood in the hallway for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then, without thinking, you headed toward Gi-Hun’s room. The knot in your stomach twisted tighter as you approached the door. You hadn’t snooped around before—never had the need—but tonight was different. You had to understand what he was hiding.

The door creaked slightly as you pushed it open, not wanting to make a sound. Gi-Hun's room was dim, the only light coming from a small lamp on his nightstand. Everything looked normal at first glance—his bed neatly made, his clothes folded carefully in the closet—but as your eyes moved across the room, they fell on something that sent a cold chill down your spine.

The closet door was slightly ajar. A glint of metal caught your eye. You hesitated for a moment, but then your curiosity got the best of you, and you walked over, your breath shallow in your chest.

You opened the closet door fully.

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in the sight before you. Hidden behind a pile of neatly folded clothes were several guns, knives, and other weapons. The metal gleamed under the faint light, and you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a step back, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

What is this?

A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, but none of them seemed to make sense. Gi-Hun had never been violent. He was kind, protective, but this... this was different. A knot of dread settled heavily in your stomach as a sickening thought crossed your mind.

Is he in a gang? No. No he can't be..

But it would explain the sudden money, the secretive nature of his actions. But the idea of Gi-Hun—the brother you’d always trusted—being involved in something so dangerous was almost too much to bear.

You swallowed hard, trying to calm your frantic thoughts, but the fear you felt was palpable. Your hands trembled as you closed the closet door quickly, but it didn’t help the sense of panic that was now rising within you. You couldn’t stay in the room, couldn’t breathe in the thick tension that now hung in the air.

You needed fresh air. You needed to clear your head.

Your heart was still racing as you grabbed your jacket, not caring that it was still chilly outside. You needed to get away from the house, away from the thoughts that were spiraling out of control. You didn’t even think twice before stepping out the door and into the night.

The cool air hit your face, and for a moment, it helped calm you, but the unease in your chest refused to subside. You walked down the street slowly, hoping that some distance from the house would give you clarity.

Your mind couldn’t stop racing. Was Gi-Hun really involved in something dangerous? Could he be in trouble? And why hadn’t he told you any of this?

As you walked, the quietness of the night felt overwhelming. Your footsteps echoed in the empty street, and you found yourself drifting toward the nearby park. You had always found solace there, the trees and quiet paths a comforting escape from the chaos that life sometimes threw at you.

But tonight, even the park couldn’t soothe you. The doubts clouded your thoughts, and you couldn’t shake the fear gnawing at your insides.

You sat on the park bench, staring blankly ahead at the empty pathways stretching out before you. The night was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze. The cool air helped calm your racing thoughts, but the knot in your stomach still lingered.

Gi-Hun’s secret, his weapons hidden in the closet, haunted you. You couldn’t understand why he would hide something like that from you. You were his little sister. You’d always been close, and yet now, you felt like there was an impenetrable wall between you two. He had his own problems, sure, but you had your own fears—fears about money, about not being able to make ends meet. And worse, Gi-Hun had no idea just how deep in debt you really were.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him, even though he had done so much for you already. He was stressed enough, with his own burdens. The thought of adding to them felt selfish. But the bills piled up, and the creditors kept calling, sending threatening letters you couldn’t afford to ignore. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep pretending that everything was okay.

The weight of it all pressed on your chest, suffocating you, and just when you thought you couldn’t bear it anymore, you saw him.

A man in a dark suit, walking toward you with a casual yet purposeful stride. You hadn’t noticed him before, but he seemed to appear out of nowhere, his gaze locked on you. For a moment, a flicker of unease ran through you. But then his expression softened, and he smiled as he stopped in front of the bench.

“You look like someone who could use a little company,” he said smoothly, his voice calm and inviting. There was something comforting in his presence, though you couldn’t quite place it.

You didn’t respond immediately, unsure of whether you wanted to talk to anyone. But his smile seemed genuine, and something about him made you lower your guard, even just a little.

“I’m… fine,” you said, forcing a smile, though you knew it probably didn’t reach your eyes. “Just… thinking.” as you sighed.

The man nodded knowingly, as if he’d heard this a thousand times. “Thinking, huh? Sounds like a heavy load.” He lowered himself onto the bench beside you without asking. His presence was calm, almost serene, but you couldn’t shake the odd sense of curiosity that had stirred inside you.

“You seem troubled,” he continued, his voice gentle but probing. “Something weighing on you?”

You swallowed hard, not sure how to answer. Was it that obvious? You’d always tried to keep your worries hidden, not wanting to burden anyone, especially Gi-Hun.

“I don’t know,” you said quietly. “I just… feel stuck, I guess. My brother’s been helping me out a lot, but the debts… they’re just too much. I don’t want to tell him, he’s already dealing with so much. But it’s like no matter what I do, nothing gets better.”

The man’s eyes seemed to sharpen, though his expression remained warm and understanding. “Debt can be a heavy weight, can’t it?” he said, almost like he was speaking from experience. “It can feel like you’re trapped in a cycle, no matter how hard you try to get out.”

You nodded, your heart sinking. That was exactly how it felt. Trapped. The bills never stopped coming, and every time you made even a small dent, something new came up to push you back into the hole. And Gi-Hun—he didn’t know how deep it went. He had been so generous with what he could, but the amount of money you needed to fix everything was far beyond anything he could provide. And you weren’t about to add to his stress by telling him.

The man leaned in slightly, his gaze intent on you. “You know, I’ve helped people in situations just like yours. People who feel stuck, who can’t see a way out. And there’s a way to break free from all that fear, all that uncertainty.”

You looked at him, confused but intrigued. “What do you mean?”

He smiled, almost knowingly. “There’s a way to escape the burden of debt. A way to stop living in fear. A way to take control of your life, once and for all. The only thing you have to do is take a chance.”

“A chance?” you echoed, your brow furrowing. What was he talking about?

The salesman reached into his pocket, pulling out a small folded piece of paper. He held it out to you, and despite your initial hesitation, you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his as you did.

“It’s an opportunity,” he continued, “an invitation to a game. A game where you can win enough money to change everything. To leave all your worries behind. Money, freedom—it’s all there for the taking, if you’re willing to take the leap.”

You stared at the small invitation in your hand, still unsure of what he meant. A game? How could something like that solve your problems? But the desperation inside you began to outweigh the doubt. Maybe this was the way out you’d been looking for. Maybe this was the answer you didn’t even know you needed.

“What kind of game?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, though your mind was racing.

The salesman’s smile never wavered. “It’s a game that changes everything. It’s not easy, but you’ve got nothing to lose, do you? The money, the freedom—it’s all there. You could leave all this behind. No more struggling. No more worrying.”

He was right. You had nothing to lose. The weight of your debts, the constant fear of not making it through another month—it was all crushing you.

You looked down at the invitation in your hand, diffirent shapes printed across it in simple black ink. The strange promise of money, of an escape, tugged at you. Could this really be the way out?

“I… I don’t know,” you said quietly, uncertainty and fear mixing with a glimmer of hope. “What if it’s dangerous?”

The man’s smile softened, his eyes gleaming with something almost... reassuring. “Life is always a little dangerous. But sometimes, you have to take a risk to get what you deserve. Think about it. The game could give you everything you need. A fresh start. A life without the weight of all this.”

You held the invitation tighter in your hand, the decision weighing heavily on you.

“Think about it,” he repeated, standing up slowly. “The game is waiting for you. You’ll know what to do.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone with the invitation in your hand, the promise of something better, and a choice that would change everything. You placed the card in you pocket and went back home.

From author= i hope you guys liked it. If you want to be tagged say it in the comments❤️

Masterlist=

[chososfl3shlight]

Like you

Daisuke x gn reader

I don't think a gender is mentioned... but I usually write fem reader so..

Just a quick fluff n comfort drabble

You met Daisuke on the pony express space freighter. You didn't expect to really enjoy the job, but with him there, it was somewhat enjoyable. Not only because of him either, the other crew members had quite the personalities too. Over the months spent together, you grew to know them all pretty well. You connected with Daisuke more, though, probably because you both were pretty young and interns.

With very few options on who to talk to, you found yourself with Daisuke the most. During breaks, at night, even on the job, you found ways to check up on him. Swansea would get annoyed with the both of you, irritated when you'd distract Daisuke from his chores. You were sorry, but not really.

Getting to see Daisuke on the job was thrilling. When he'd be using tools, the way his arms would flex when tightening bolts. The way he'd groan when frustrated because he didn't understand what Swansea was trying to explain to him.

The more you filed through the things you enjoyed about Daisuke, the more clear it became to you that you might like him. Your eyes widened at the realization, and you tapped your pointer fingers together while holding the clipboard Anya handed you.

"Something wrong?"

Anya questioned with concern. You looked up to see her staring back at you. She was seated at the desk in medical, looking at you as you stood next to her. You scrambled to reply.

"Uh, no! Yeah, sorry, just.. thinking."

You tapped the end of your pen against your lip, smiling sheepishly at Anya.

"Need a reevaluation?" She joked.

You giggled at her comment, shaking your head. She smiled before looking back down at her notes.

"Is it Daisuke?"

Your heart jumped at the mention of his name. Your eyes flickered to Anya, your head turning with delay. She didn't even have to look at you to know that she was correct. You watched as her smile grew.

"It is, isn't it?"

Your eyes widened, and a frown appeared on your face.

"What? What's Daisuke?"

You asked stupidly, your clammy hands gripping at the clipboard. She scoffed and finally turned back to you, her chair swiveling. She looked at you with a raised brow.

"What's on your mind. Daisuke's what you're thinking so hard about."

She had a shit eating grin on her face. She knew she was right, so why continue to tease you about it?

Your jaw slacked open, and an imminent blush painted your cheeks.

"Gosh, can you be any more obvious?" she shook her head with a smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" You exclaimed with angry brows.

It only took one glance from her for you to fold and cover your red face with the clipboard.

"Okay...you might be right." You mumbled.

"Yeah, I knew that already"

You let out a long groan. Dropping the clipboard from your face and facing Anya once again. With your hands lazily hanging by your sides, you stood by her awkwardly.

"How'd you know before me?" You whined.

She rolled her eyes at you playfully.

"Are you seriously asking that? You're always with him, even during work hours, and you just stare at him sometimes -"

"Okay! That's enough!" You interrupted.

She giggled at the way your face heated up. She crossed one leg over the other while swiveling back and forth in her seat slightly.

"You should tell him"

You couldn't look her in the eyes. The way your heart fluttered was embarrassing. It felt like you were outside the freighter and couldn't breathe for a second. Anya must've noticed because she began snickering, trying to hold down her laughs.

"I-I'm gonna go now, okay?" You joked, but actually wanted to leave.

She nodded, waving her hand.

"Yeah, go ahead. I can take care of this"

You frowned in consideration, but she shooed you away, so you ended up walking out of medical.

The pumping in your heart grew in pace as you walked into the lobby area. You looked at the big daytime screen and tried to calm your breathing. Closing your eyes and inhaling slowly. You did this often, missing the feeling of the suns warmth on your skin and the soft breeze of wind. You thought you managed to gaslight yourself into feeling a ray of sunshine on your skin when you felt warmth. You opened your eyes to see the source.

"Boo."

Daisuke was standing right in front of you. You jumped with a yelp, almost stumbling over. He began laughing hard, leaning forward and putting a hand on your shoulder while the other wrapped around himself. You felt your body grow stiff as a board. Both of you were pretty touchy normally, but now that you realized you might like him, touch felt different.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear me walk up to you! Though, I am pretty sneaky like a ninja."

Daisuke winked at you, and you had to look away. Feeling too many emotions and sensations in your body. You wanted to mention how you felt his warm presence, but thought that sounded weird.

"That's how I steal the sweetner packets, but shhh don't tell anyone.."

He whispered to you, and you nodded.

"I won't," you affirmed with a smile.

He finally let go of your shoulder with a laugh. You let out a relieved sigh underneath your breath before he continued talking.

"What're you doing out here anyways? Aren't you supposed to be working right now?"

"Yeah, well..aren't you?"

".. Got me there"

You both laugh together. When it dies down, you walk over to the couch and plop down. Daisuke not so surprisingly follows you and sits down right next to you. Awkward silence ensues. Usually, you're able to spark up conversation easily, but you can't bring yourself to say anything.

He tapped his leg seemingly anxiously. This made you feel like he was waiting for you to say something. You were going to or at least planned to... maybe in an unsure thought. You bit the inside of your lips, rolling them between your teeth.

"Daisuke.."

He immediately perked up to the sound of his name. He looked over at you with a small smile.

"Yeah?"

"Um.. I.."

Your voice came out sounding small and shaky no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

"I like you, like a lot..."

You wanted to sink into the couch, or even better you hoped the ship would crash. He stared at you with an unreadable expression, his eyes only boring into you.

"Really...? You..you like me?"

He pointed to himself in disbelief. You stared at him, dumbfounded. Did he think you were out of his league or something? You thought the contrary.

"Yeah? why?" You couldn't help but ask.

He chuckled, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I just...that's hard to believe. You're so pretty."

Your face flushed at his words, and you laughed to hide it.

"Am I the first person you used that line on?" You teased.

"No," He replied a bit too quickly for your liking.

When your face dropped, he cackled. He explained that he was joking, but the idea that he had been with someone before hurt for some reason. You wanted him to be all yours, as selfish as it sounded you didn't want anyone else to experience love with him other than you.

"So, do you like me back?"

You asked, feeling insecure. He responded with a smile and a nod.

"Yeah. Sorry if it wasnt obvious enough"

For a moment, you forgot you were on a freighter with other people. It felt like it was only you and him in space. You teared up, trying to laugh it off, but the truth is this wasn't something you could easily gloss over. You really liked him, and the fact that he reciprocated those feelings hit you like a space freighter. He looked at you with concern when you started sobbing and laughing at the same time.

Your breathes were interrupted by hiccups as the laughter became overpowered by sobbing.

"Woah, are you..." he paused, instead wrapping his arm around you.

You just about wailed, trying to laugh instead, but more tears escaped your eyes in dismay.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying not to cry," you whimpered.

He giggled lightheartedly, patting your arm as he pulled you closer. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"It's okay, I know it's a lot to bag someone like me"

You snickered, pushing him away playfully.

"Oh, shut up!"

You smiled wide, wiping tears off your face. You just couldn't cry around him. He always made you smile and feel giddy. You felt like a little kid with a crush.

"You seriously okay?"

"Seriously."

He smiled at your response. You pulled him into an intimate hug. Your arms wrapped around him tightly like he would disappear if you let go. He wrapped you into his own embrace, and you both enjoyed the feeling of your bodies against each other.

+ Quick sketch by me

[those2fireboys]

I cut out the parts that made it fit the final criteria so this is just me being autistic abt autistic house.

Autism spectrum disorder is a difficult thing to represent in movies, tv shows, and books because it is a spectrum. Every person is going to experience it differently, so it gets into dodgy territory when it's portrayed in media, especially when it's not canon confirmed. Lots of characters have autistic traits, or “coding,” which means they have behaviors or characteristics that might align with how autism is understood, but the creators may not explicitly confirm the character as being on the spectrum. This coding can be intentional or unintentional, but it often reflects a lack of clear representation or a misunderstanding of the diversity of the autism spectrum. I am going to do a deep dive into one of these, widely accepted “autistic coded” characters, and explain how the show could have benefited from a confirmation of this character's autism.

Gregory House is the main character of the 2004 medical drama House MD. He is often implied to be autistic by both fans and the show itself. But this was 2004, and Dr Gregory House is supposed to be a suave, intelligent doctor. He cant have autism spectrum disorder.. Right?

Well, not exactly.

Dr. James Wilson: I'm going to read you something. "Asperger's syndrome is a mild and rare form of autism. It is typically characterized by difficulty establishing friendships and playing with peers, trouble accepting conventional social rules, and they dislike any change in setting or routine"... or broadloom. Don't say that last part but you get my point.

Dr. Lisa Cuddy: House doesn't have Asperger's. The diagnosis is much simpler. He's a jerk.

Dr. James Wilson: Why do you think he took this case? Because he believes these parents? Because he wants to help a young boy? He sees himself in this kid, and he's trying to help himself... He doesn't want this, he needs it.

Symptoms

Social Challenges

1a. Difficulty with empathy

1b. Blunt honesty

1c. Difficulty maintain relationships

2. Desire for Sameness

2a. See The Carpet™ situation

2b. His office (S8)

2c. Struggles when his interns leave

3. Sensory issues and Difficulty with Emotional Regulation

3a. Chronic pain, increasing with emotional issues

3b. Emotional overload

3c. He drives a car into his ex’s living room

4. Fidgeting / Stimming

4a. The Tennis Ball

4b. Twirling the Cane

4c. The vicodin bottle

1a. House has a very hard time with empathy, and while this could be interpreted as him just being a jerk, it could also be a symptom of autism. People with autism often struggle with empathy and understanding others emotions.

For example, in season 3 episode 9, House says, "It's a good thing you failed to become a mom, because you suck at it!" to Cuddy, in a moment of anger. Later in the episode he apologizes but struggles to understand why she is still upset at the comment after.

1b. House is extremely blunt. Again this can be interrupted as him being rude but it's also a common symptom of autism. House can be seen being extremely blunt with patients often leaving them and his coworkers shocked with his bedside manner.

1c. House has difficulty with vulnerability, often insulting his friends and people close to him when he's frustrated, or straight up ignoring them when he's focused on work, making it difficult to maintain relationships. These failings often lead to conflicts, and eventual breakdowns. However, when these breakdowns happen, usually House makes an (albeit stilted) effort to get these relationships back in order.

Dr Wilson: “I only have two things that worked for me: this job and this stupid, screwed-up friendship and neither mattered enough for you to give one lousy speech”

Dr. House: “They matter.”

2a. In season 3 House gets shot in his office and when he comes back to work the carpet in his office has obviously been replaced, as it was covering blood and stained. He has a meltdown and refuses to work in his office until the old carpet is restored. He says, “It's my office. It's where I work, where I think, where I save lives, I want it back the way it was.” He works in various places throughout the hospital but refuses to work in his office. Eventually the carpet is restored and he goes back to his office.

Autistic people often struggle with change, and need routine to function. Dr House struggles with this desire for sameness.

2b. Another example of Dr House’s desire for sameness is in season 8. House goes to prison and when he returns to the hospital he discovers that his office has been repurposed for another department. As in season 3, he refuses to work in his office until he gets his office back to the way it was. He annoys the other workers in his former office until they agree to leave and give his office back.

2c.  Many times throughout the show employees leave the hospital or work in another department. Whenever this happens House struggles to adjust to the change. For example, in season 4 all of House's fellows quit and he has to hire new ones. First he refuses to hire new doctors and tries to get the original team to come back. He then hired 40 fellows at once to avoid having to make a choice right away. House has to take time to adjust to the change before he can create a new routine.

3a. House has chronic pain due to an injury, he takes vicodin to help with this pain. However it's revealed in many instances throughout the show that the pain is connected to emotional issues. His pain increases when he can't deal with his emotions.

He takes vicodin to numb emotional pain. A lot of autistic individuals struggle to identify and deal with their emotions. Addiction is also common within autistic individuals because they struggle with pain and physical regulation.

3b. House often struggles with overly emotional situations, often leading to a meltdown. For example season 7 episode 15 “Bombshells,” in this episode House’s girlfriend is in the hospital and he avoids going to support her at all costs because he knows it will be a high emotion situation that he wants to avoid. Eventually he takes vicodin and goes to see her which ends up causing their breakup. After the break up House basically loses his mind, taking vicodin, drinking, and hiring prostitutes. In the end he ends up jumping off the balcony of a hotel into the pool.

These episodes really exemplify how much he struggles with sensory issues, specifically regarding his emotions. This is one of the most common symptoms of autism, in fact its part of the diagnostic criteria.

3c. In season 7 episode 23 House drives his car into Cuddy’s living room in a moment of anger. He misses her, he's angry that they broke up, and he's angry that she has moved on from him. He makes this decision in a split second and he clearly can't talk himself down. He can't emotionally regulate himself once it gets past a certain point.

4. I’ll group these three together for ease. One of the most common symptoms of autism and neurodiversity in general is fidgeting and stimming. Stimming is defined as “a self stimulating behavior, usually characterized as repetitive movements, actions, or vocalizations.” These actions aid in self regulation for autistic individuals.

House is often seen pacing, twirling his cane, or his vicodin bottle, and repeatedly throwing a tennis ball against the wall. These actions all reflect stimming behaviors. He focuses more heavily on these actions when he is deep in thought or struggling with an emotional situation, this reflects the self regulatory nature of these actions.

why do people hate the idea of house being autistic like guys... Have we forgotten headcanons, do we hate the joy of expressing yourself through a character... Also there are actual people giving evidence to their suspicion of house having autism why am I seeing autistic house haters on my dash....

[rookinthecrownest]

17 for the ask game!

17. Rook teaching someone a skill

“It’s alright, Little Dove. Try again”

Madeleina Mercar sits with her daughter, held snuggly in her lap, and watches as blue sparks of magic sputter in and out existence.

Francesca huffs, and Madeleina, knowing her daughter as she does, is picturing the look of frustration on her delicate features although she can’t see her. Her aquiline nose must be scrunched, and thick brows drawn low over doe-like eyes. The blue light emanating from her small hands fades, as they drop into her lap.

Frannie turns to her mother and frowns, her shoulders deflating, “I can’t do it … not like you”

Madeleina runs her hands gently through her pin-straight black hair. One of the many features, both in personality and appearance, she inherited from her father. Lucanis’ little twin, in nearly every way. The best of both of them, Madeleina thinks. After all, the magic bit was all her.

“Ah, little Dove, you’ve only been at this for a few days” Madeleina offers a warm smile and touches her forehead to Frannie’s, reveling her daughter’s warmth. “You’ll get better, you just need more practice”

That only seems to deepen Francesca’s frown as she pulls away from her mother, indignant.

“I’m a mage!” She says, punctuated with the stubbornness of youth. “I should be able to -... to... I don’t know! Make something!”

Then, she lets loose the real crux of the issue next.

“How am I supposed to tell my baby brother stories if I can’t do it like you…” 

Madeleina is unable stop herself from letting out a surprised breath. A little part of her had certainly been curious when Francesca barged into their bedroom one night and demanded to know how Madeleina’s illusions work. She had planned on showing her at some point, of course – but wanted to wait until she was a bit older and had a more refined grasp on her magic. When her magic first manifested, she nearly froze their elderly cat, Frupert, into an ice sculpture. Francesca’s control had improved leaps and bounds since then, but it still wasn’t quite perfect and one had to watch for the errant fireball when she was in one of her moods. The singe marks being painted over their estate were proof of that, and the staff had learned to duck quite well as a result. Nonetheless, she was making all the progress she could in her personal instruction of Francesca– making use of her time in the Circle to guide her instruction.

Madeleina smiles warmly and rubs her growing belly, now about four months into pregnancy. Francesca joins the motion and pulls herself into a hug with her mother.

She doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting there, holding each other, and she’s not sure what prompts her to conjure an illusion, but she does so anyway.

It’s a familiar one – a castle surrounded by four turrets and long, pointed spires. Finely gilded wrought-iron gates bar the entrances. It floats between them for a few moments, and her daughter stares, transfixed by its construction.

“That’s the castle from the Sleeping Princess” Francesca mumbles. “I’ll never be able to make it…”

“Yes, you will. You just need to start with something smaller” Madeleina waves her hand and the castle disappears from existence.

“We use our magic to tap into the Fade and make the real world a little more like the Fade- just for a moment” She explains, putting her arm out in front of her daughter again. It glows with blue light once more. “When I do my magic, I think if it as bringing the stories that live in my heart into the real world, using the Fade as the bridge”

Madeleina holds her daughter closely, and Francesca in turn, nuzzles into her neck.

“Think hard, think carefully about a memory or a story. Something simple, but important to you. Focus on it in your mind’s eye, and then draw on the Fade to make it real”

“Mmm…” Frannie looks hesitant, and Madeleina gently touches their foreheads again and puts a hand on her daughter’s heart.

“Don’t think about it so much in here” She bonks their foreheads together gently and Frannie blinks in confusion. “Think with this” Madeleina puts a finger on her daughter’s chest, where her heart should be, and leans back.

Francesa closes her eyes tightly, balls her fists together, and clenches them tightly until they start glowing blue again. She keeps her eyes closed like she’s searching for something deep in the recesses of her mind.

‘Come on, you can do it’ Madeleina thinks to herself, watching eagerly as the results of her daughter’s efforts start to take shape.

She bites her lip as three amorphous blobs start winding their way into a clumsy existence at the hands of her daughter.

“You’re doing it, Little Dove! Keep going” Madeleina whispers in her ear, and puts a reassuring hand on her back.

Francesca’s eyebrows furrow in concentration. Madeleina restrains a chuckle as she watches Frannie’s tongue stick out of the side of her mouth.

She’s made a few shapes before, but has never sustained something so complicated as a fully formed figure or a building.

Three figures start stretching out and winding back on and collapsing in on themselves. Just when she thinks Francesca’s about to give up, one of them starts taking shape. Slowly, but surely, one of the figures starts to resemble… Lucanis?

It has his widow’s peak, feathered back hair, the beard, the square jaw and handsome features she fell in love with all those years ago. Then, the other blob starts to take on more of her features, for just a moment, before a grunt of effort from Francesca releases the illusion into the Ether once more.

“Agh! Why!” Frannie pounds her fists on her knees and groans, leaning back into Madeleina’s arms and flopping like every ounce of tension from every muscle left her in that exact moment.

Madeleina chuckled and pinched her cheeks. “Little Dove, I’ve been doing this kind of magic for over twenty years. Give yourself time”

“I should be better at it” Frannie huffs again, crossing her arms over her chest.

She certainly has her father’s stubbornness and need for perfection in everything they do.

“You’ll get there, I promise”

A soft knock comes at the door, and a moment later, her husband is peeking through.

“Where are my girls?” Lucanis grins as he comes to stand in the doorway. Francesca, carefully, given Madeleina’s swollen belly, extricates herself from her mother’s grasp and runs quickly to her father. She wraps her arms around his legs and sulks against his finely tailored black trousers.

“I can’t do Mom’s magic like she can” She whines into his pant-leg.

Lucanis chuckles and pats her hair gently. “Few can, my darling girl. But you have the best teacher in all of Antiva – perhaps Thedas.” He gives Madeleina a knowing look, and she can’t help the flush that creeps over her cheeks when he does. All these years, and he still has that effect on her.

He leans down to her level and gently takes hold of her shoulders, the size of his hands dwarfing them, “But you’re going to keep working on it, hm? Because?”

Francesca nods solemnly, “Because I’m a Dellamorte… and we don’t give up”

Lucanis nods, “Good. Now, that’s enough real magic for one night hmm. How about some culinary magic, courtesy of your loving father?”

Francesca beams, “What did you make tonight?”

“Your favourite” He answers, looking rather satisfied with himself.

“Oh- mushroom, seafood and lemon risotto?” Francesca asks hopefully, her green eyes shimmering with excitement.

Lucanis nods and before he can verbally affirm the statement their daughter squeals and starts running down the winding staircase and heading for the west wing of the estate, where the dining room(s) are located.

“She gets that from you” Lucanis jerks his thumb towards Madeleina and smiles.

She rolls her eyes and steadies herself on both hands before pushing up. Lucanis is next to her with inhuman speed and has his arms steadying hers before she’s even fully pushed herself off the floor.

“Take it easy, cara mia” He whispers, leaning close. Madeleina feels that same flush creeping up the back of her neck, and the tips of her ears.

Madeleina, once fully upright, rolls her eyes and ribs him playfully. “I’m fine. You worry worse than a Chantry mother”

Lucanis presses a chaste kiss to her cheek and keeps her encircled in his arms even as she moves to follow their daughter to the dining room.

“Mi Amor, I will spend the rest of my days being eternally grateful that I have you and our children to fret over”

[luxcuriousao3]

Mutter (Chapter Two)

Summary: He always did this. Got attached to the first person to show him the slightest bit of affection. Even the betas he hooked up with. He had to keep their trysts as impersonal as possible, because otherwise he would fall in love with them. It was why he never took them back to fuck in his quarters, why he never removed his mask. He hadn’t kissed a woman in years, not since the older beta prostitute who had taken his virginity. She’d pitied him when he cried against her breasts as he fucked into her clumsily and called her mummy. He’d fallen for her right then, promised he would take care of her and treat her well and take her away from that life. She’d given him a sad smile and said he was a sweet boy, but had rejected him nonetheless. He’d paid her twice the agreed upon amount and never saw her again, burning with shame as he ran out of the dirty motel room. Word Count: 4471 Warnings: mentioned smut, mentions of past domestic/sexual abuse, mentions of past prostitution, König has mommy issues and also self-esteem issues and also intimacy issues (he can still get it tho), *** means POV switch, and -*- means timeskip but no POV switch. Notes The next chapter of Dove isn't ready to be published yet, so I figured I'd update this fic with the last of the prewritten chapters I have for it while y'all wait. I still have no beta for this fic so all SPAG and consistency errors are my own, feel free to point them out. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! AO3, Masterlist

The following two weeks progressed painfully slowly for König.

The only time he ever got to take his mask off was when he was in the shower, now. He found himself lingering until the water ran cold just so he could enjoy the freedom of it.

That wasn't the only reason his showers had grown longer, though.

He’d tried to have Lelia shop for a few things online, but she’d seemed to think it was some sort of trade—if he bought her proper clothes, she would have to let him fuck her. He’d tried to explain again that that wasn't the case, but she’d only grown confused and agitated. It almost made him think she wanted him to fuck her—if it weren’t for the fear souring her scent when she’d dropped to her knees in front of him after he handed her his phone with an online clothes shop pulled up.

He'd had to retreat to the shower after that to fuck his fist, the other stuffed in his mouth to muffle his cries of pleasure. The sight of her kneeling in front of him, wearing those pretty pink pajamas, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes—it was too much. He’d been so ashamed afterwards, especially when he realized the scent of his arousal had leaked out of the toilet and into his quarters proper. Lelia had been hiding under the blankets in her nest when he’d come out, clearly trying to escape the overpowering pheromones. He’d stuttered an embarrassed apology and fled the room.

He hadn’t tried to get her to pick out new clothes again.

Instead, he’d requested some from the program. They had arrived that same day, three plain, white, long sleeved shirts, and three plain, white pairs of joggers. They were all made of the same rough, itchy cotton. Lelia had been unable to hide her disgust at the sight of them, though she’d quickly tried to wipe the amusing expression away.

She’d worn the clothes for one day. Her miserable scent had made him so sick he’d simply thrown them away that night without saying anything. She hadn’t protested, and the next day she’d been back to wearing her comfortable lingerie-pajamas. And König had gone back to suffering from a permanent hard on.

He’d debated going to see Isa or one of his usual betas again, but remembering Lelia’s small, stuttering voice admitting that it hurt her omega to smell someone else on him was enough to turn him off from the idea.

It was frustrating, how she had been forced into his life and yet was too sweet for him to properly resent her for it. Because as much as her continued fear of him hurt, she also kept making his bed and cleaning his boots every day, no matter how many times he told her she didn't have to. Though he’d never been particularly messy, she kept his room spick and span, all clothes folded or hung up, not a single speck of dust anywhere. She even lined up the few trinkets he had on his desk, and after seeing how he’d fiddled with them once while he did paperwork, she began to leave them in more… creative positions. He would come back to find them all in a circle, as if having an intense meeting, or staggered like they were on a battlefield. A new scene every time, and it never failed to make him smile beneath his hood.

She was adorable. And König was having a harder and harder time telling himself he didn’t want her.

He always did this. Got attached to the first person to show him the slightest bit of affection. Even the betas he hooked up with. He had to keep their trysts as impersonal as possible, because otherwise he would fall in love with them. It was why he never took them back to fuck in his quarters, why he never removed his mask. He hadn’t kissed a woman in years, not since the older beta prostitute who had taken his virginity. She’d pitied him when he cried against her breasts as he fucked into her clumsily and called her mummy. He’d fallen for her right then, promised he would take care of her and treat her well and take her away from that life. She’d given him a sad smile and said he was a sweet boy, but had rejected him nonetheless.

He’d paid her twice the agreed upon amount and never saw her again, burning with shame as he ran out of the dirty motel room.

Even the memory made his face heat up with humiliation and self disgust. König knew he was pathetic. Getting better at sex and having numerous women happily bounce on his cock—without being paid to—didn’t change that. Especially when none of them wanted anything more.

The situation with Lelia was different, though. There was little he could do to distance himself from her, with her living in his quarters. And that the kindness she showed him had nothing to do with sex only made it more difficult to ignore.

He sighed as he stood outside the door of his room, two trays of food in hand. It was lunch time, and König had quickly realized that if he didn’t bring Lelia food, she simply wouldn’t eat, as she seemed to have no desire to leave her nest, let alone his room. That was for the best, he knew, it wouldn't be safe for her to wander around base herself—but he hadn't thought about the fact that he would have to feed her until he heard her pass out in the toilet while brushing her teeth on her third day with him. When he’d rushed her to medical, he was told she was malnourished, and when she’d calmly informed him upon waking up that she hadn’t eaten since being assigned to him, he’d been horrified. The look the nurse gave him—not Isa, thankfully, though he expected she’d hear about his failures as an Alpha soon enough—made him feel far smaller than his 208 centimetres.

He’d plied Lelia with double portions and extra desserts for several days in apology, giving up his own favorite treats for her. She’d been suspicious at first, but after the third meal, she’d given him a tiny, hesitant smile and saved him the last few bites of vanilla pudding.

She was still afraid of him though. Not as much, and not always, but sometimes the sour scent of it would spike, and she'd hide under the blankets in her nest, shaking. He tended to leave her alone during those times, finding that was the most effective way to get her fear to abate. He could smell it now, leaking out from under the crack in his door, but he couldn't leave without dropping off her lunch, at least. So he quietly opened it, setting her tray down on his desk. He was already turning to go back to the mess hall when he heard it.

“Please… Andrew, s-stop… n-no, don’t… please… please… h-hurts!”

König froze, head swiveling to stare hard at the desk, listening to the terrified whimpers and sniffles that came from under it. He only hesitated for a second before his tray was set down next to Lelia’s and he was kneeling on the ground, peering into her nest. She was asleep, eyes squeezed tightly shut as tears streamed down her face, pretty mouth downturned, bottom lip wobbling. She twitched violently, as if she was trying to fight someone off, but was being restrained. Pinned.

Lelia cried out in pain, neck tilting to expose her scent gland. For the first time, it wasn’t covered by her hair, and König’s stomach dropped as he noticed the angry looking red scars across it. Mating bites that had been rejected. Dozens of them layered upon each other without a single ounce of care.

Omegas could reject an Alpha’s claim on them, even if they’d been bitten, but it was extremely painful, and left terrible scars, both physical and mental. It was also seen as quite taboo, with most omegas being deemed undesirable if they did.

That was why it was so rare, and omegas often ended up in abusive relationships. They were too scared of the consequences of rejecting even a forced mating. Of course, while it usually had to be a conscious choice on the omega’s part, sometimes the mating was so traumatizing that their body would automatically reject the bond. If that happened, then the Alpha who’d bitten them would never be able to claim that omega, no matter how many times they tried.

And clearly, someone had tried. Lelia had been violated over and over and over again.

Suddenly, König felt foolish for taking her fear personally. He remembered that distant look in her eyes the first day, the one he’d known spoke of trauma. But he just—he hadn’t thought it was that sort of trauma. Why would she have volunteered for a program like this if she had been abused so terribly? Surely, she knew the risks of it happening again…

Perhaps she didn't have any other options, a voice in his head said, cold and logical. An unmated omega with so many rejected claim scars… no one would want her.

“Oh, Schatz,” he said softly, reaching into her nest to pet her hair soothingly. She turned into his hand, still asleep, and breathed in deeply. He projected his most calming scent, and she began to relax, the little furrow between her brows smoothing out. “I am not like him. I will not hurt you.”

I want you, he thought but didn’t say. There was no use denying it anymore. He was smitten with the sweet little omega that had been forced upon him. He sighed. He would be patient. He would go slow, and keep showing her that he wasn’t a threat. And perhaps, if he proved what a good Alpha he could be, she would want him too, someday.

***

Something was different about the Colonel.

First, that he no longer wanted her to call him that or Sir. He’d tensed when she’d said the latter that night as she thanked him for dropping off lunch while she was asleep, even if the thought that someone had been in the same room as her while she was sleeping made her skin crawl.

“You may call me König,” he told her after a moment. When she'd just blinked at him in surprise, he reached up under his ever present mask to scratch his chin, radiating awkwardness. “Please.”

König was the strangest Alpha she had ever met.

He was also the nicest, which was perhaps part of the oddness. Lelia had learned the hard way that nice Alphas only existed in story books and films, not real life.

But König fed her regularly—at least after the first few days—and brought her books that she stared longingly at but refused to touch. He’d even tried to get her new clothes, and not just the terrible, uncomfortable joggers and t-shirts that the program provided for free. But when Lelia had tried to repay him, as she knew was expected of her, he’d freaked out and gone off to the shower to touch himself instead. Lelia wasn’t sure how she’d messed that up, but she’d received no nice clothes, and so she’d gotten the message loud and clear that she had. She hadn’t been so forward since, just waited for the day to come when he yanked her out of her nest, threw her onto the bed and had his way with her.

Except a whole two weeks had gone by and that day hadn’t come. And now her constant fear was replaced by constant confusion. Even Rodolfo, who had been far nicer than Andrew— despite whoring her out to the club’s customers—hadn’t given her more than a day to adjust before taking her. He hadn't tried to claim her, though, as he already had a wife. She was just his favorite toy on the side.

Lelia hadn’t minded that. She’d played the part of wife once before. She had no interest in doing so again, for anyone.

That was why she had been pleased when König had asserted that he didn't want her—at least once he’d agreed to accept her anyway, that was. She would have been sent back to Andrew if he didn’t. But instincts aside, living with an Alpha that didn't want to try and claim her, even if he still used her, was ideal. Especially if she was good enough that he treated her decently.

But König had thrown a wrench in her plans by categorically refusing to fuck her, because she was afraid of him. That had never stopped an Alpha before, in her experience. In fact, it had only ever made Andrew more aroused.

Hence the constant confusion.

As she and König ate dinner in silence—her sitting at his desk, since she didn't want to risk spilling food in her nest and having to wash out her scent, and him sitting on his bed—she watched him. He still didn’t take his mask off all the way, only lifting it enough to reveal his mouth with each bite. He had a strong jaw dusted in light-colored stubble and several scars. And, to Lelia’s surprise, there were the little metal rings in his bottom lip.

“Did those hurt?” She asked, causing König to freeze, hood dropping back down as he looked up at her with shocked blue eyes. She supposed that was fair. She had initiated conversation with him approximately three times since they'd met. She wasn’t sure why she was doing so now. Perhaps his oddness was rubbing off on her.

“What?” He croaked, and she touched her fingers to her lip, rubbing it. König’s ocean blue eyes followed the movement intently for a moment before he snapped himself out of it. “The piercings? Nein, not really. The tattoos were far worse.”

Lelia tilted her head to the side curiously.

“You have tattoos?”

König chuckled, eyes crinkling, and it was Lelia’s turn to be shocked. She had never heard him laugh before. Not truly. Just the short huffs of amusement he let out whenever he saw the formations she left his figurines in. She always smiled to herself under her blankets when she heard it. She was a good omega, even if she wasn’t his omega.

“Ja, Schatz. I have tattoos. Very many,” he answered, setting his tray on the bed to roll up his sleeves. Lelia's eyes widened a bit. His forearms—which were about as thick as her thighs—were absolutely covered in ink.

“Wow,” Lelia said, leaning in a little bit, entranced by all the different designs. She reached out without thinking, a single finger lightly tracing the outline of a wolf on his right arm. König’s breath hitched, and Lelia quickly withdrew. “Do they go all the way up?”

König didn’t respond for a moment, and Lelia worried she had messed up again, ruining the fragile peace they’d created. But then he nodded.

“Ja,” he repeated, beginning to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, seeming nervous. Lelia thought his occasional bouts of shyness were cute—a word she never thought she’d attribute to an Alpha. She chalked it up to just another welcome symptom of his oddness. “Would you… would you like to see?”

Lelia hesitated, but then nodded. It wasn't like König needed a ruse to take her, if that was what he was going to do. Perhaps this was his way of asking if she wanted it? If so, the answer was… complicated. There had been a budding feeling of emptiness inside her ever since she’d been taken into KORTAC’s custody, and was no longer being fucked every night. She had never wanted what had happened to her, never wanted Andrew or Rodolfo or any of his customers. Had never enjoyed it, either. But her omega didn’t seem to understand that. It just knew it wasn’t being bred anymore, and it ached for a suitable Alpha to fill her cunt with his knot and her belly with his pups.

Perhaps König would even be gentle. He hadn’t forced himself on her, after all.

König seemed caught off guard by her answer, clearly having expected her to say no. But then with one graceful move, he tugged his shirt off, revealing his broad, thick chest. He was so wide, his strong muscles covered in a healthy layer of fat, and he was covered in tattoos all over his torso. He wasn’t particularly hairy, with most of it hidden by the black ink, but Lelia’s eyes caught on a trail of red hair on his belly that disappeared into his sleep pants, and her pupils dilated.

Suitable Alpha! Her omega practically screamed at her as a wave of unexpected, instinctual arousal nearly bowled her over. It almost felt like she was in preheat. Mate! Breed! Submit!

Lelia blushed. But when she saw König react to her scent, his eyes darkening and the already sizable bulge in his trousers—which she carefully avoided looking at at all times, and yet could always see because it was just that large—grew bigger, she whined and bared her throat to him, trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

“Schatz,” König said in his rough, accented voice. Not for the first time, she wondered what the German word meant. “You do not want this.”

She was unsure if he was trying to remind her or himself of that fact. Either way, it only made her tilt her head further. König took a massive step towards her, closing the distance between them—and then stopped. His eyes were trained on her neck, and though she couldn't see the expression on his face, it was obvious from his scent when his arousal abruptly faded.

She was confused as to why until he reached a hand out and brushed the calloused pad of his thumb against her scent gland. Lelia whimpered in pain as her numerous failed claiming marks suddenly stung sharply, and her face paled with shame. She couldn't believe she had forgotten, even just for a second.

König immediately pulled his hand back as if burned, and Lelia’s eyes grew hot with incoming tears.

“Go to your nest, omega,” he ordered, voice deeper than normal. Lelia didn’t have to be told twice. She dived under the desk, dragging the chair in front of it to block his view of her, and then pulled her blankets over her head, burying her face in the pillowcase she’d stolen from him to try and hide her tears. Her omega was howling inside her, despondent at being rejected once again. And the emptiness only grew worse.

There was the sound of fabric rustling, and then hurried footsteps. The slam of the door followed, and Lelia was alone. She was always alone.

An hour passed, and Lelia’s omega was inconsolable, only growing more distressed by her Alpha’s König's absence. Lelia tried to ignore it, but her instincts finally drove her out of her nest and into König’s bed. She instantly calmed as she was surrounded by his scent, but quickly grew restless at how exposed she was. She began to drag her pillows and blankets into the bed, remaking her nest inside it. She even retrieved one of König’s shirts from his closet, and one of the less fragile figurines from his desk. She clutched the toy soldier between her breasts, and curled up in her new nest. Only then did she stop crying.

***

When König returned to his quarters in the middle of the night, he was covered in sweat. He’d been punching a sandbag for the last five hours straight, trying to work out all his anger and lingering arousal.

He was only halfway successful.

He found himself imagining that the bag he was breaking the skin of his knuckles on was the Andrew Lelia had mentioned in her dreams earlier. He didn't know what the man looked like, didn’t know who he was or what he did for a living. All he knew was his name and that he had hurt Lelia terribly. As far as König was concerned, that made him the scum of the earth, and he would delight in ending his miserable existence.

Rolling his sore shoulders, König entered his room quietly, not wanting to wake Lelia. But his steps faltered when he noticed the pile of pillows and sheets atop his bed, and the familiar, tiny blanket lump in the middle of them. König breathed in deeply, and he frowned beneath his hood at the lingering scent of an omega in distress, and salty tears. Lots of them.

Closing the door quietly behind him, he approached the bed, carefully peeling back the blanket to reveal Lelia’s tearstained face, slack with sleep. Her lips were parted slightly, soft, breathy snores escaping her. He’d never heard her snore before. Though in all fairness, she never fell asleep before he did at night, and she was always up before him, too. This was the second time in as many weeks had actually caught her sleeping, and both times just today. It made his Alpha want to growl in satisfaction that she was finally beginning to trust him enough not to wake up the second she smelled him. And with the sight of her in his bed, there was no holding the deep, rumbling noise back.

Still asleep, Lelia bared her neck in response, showing off her scarred scent gland again. König strangled the wave of renewed anger that tried to rear up. It would wake her, and she would no doubt be terrified to see his massive form looming over her. He didn't need her screaming and making everyone on base think he was abusing her.

It did make him want to scent her, though. Properly. To brush his nose right against her scarred flesh and inhale deeply. To savor that heady mix of florals and sugar...

He would let her scent him in return, of course. He was desperate to feel her so close to him. To feel her sit in his lap again and press her nose just below his ear, pretty face buried in his tattooed neck. He wanted to ask her what he smelt like, to her. If she liked it.

He shook the thoughts from his head and stepped away, heading towards the toilet to take a shower. The sound would wake her up, and by the time he was done, both she and her nest would be back under his desk, he was sure.

And he was right. When he came back out, he could hear from her heartbeat that Lelia was awake, and the pile of blankets had been moved back to their regular place. She was sitting up in the middle of her nest, big doe eyes peering at him over the edge of her blanket. 

His gaze met hers for a long moment, but no words were exchanged, and he finally looked away, moving back to his bed. He paused when he noticed that his pillow was missing its case, and his most comfortable blanket—oversized, made specifically for a man as tall as him—was gone. He glanced back at Lelia, who was still watching him, and realized that his blanket was wrapped around her.

His Alpha let out a deep, pleased grumble at the sight, knowing she would be covered in his scent now. Lelia twitched, but her scent lightened a little bit, the bitter notes of her sadness fading slightly.

“I am sorry,” he sighed, sitting down on the floor, a metre away from her nest, ducking his head so he could see her. “For earlier. I did not mean to make you upset.”

“It was just instincts,” she answered after a long moment of silence. “That’s why I was sad when you... Not even a tainted omega like me handles rejection by their Al— by an Alpha well.”

“You are not tainted, Schatz,” König responded, swift and firm, heart skipping a beat at her slip up. Lelia looked away from him, and against his better judgment, he reached out, lightly grasping her chin and turning her back to him so she could see how serious he was. Her skin was soft and warm under his fingertips. “And I did not reject you. I stopped myself from taking advantage of you. You owe me nothing. I will not take any woman who does not truly want it.”

“But… you’re my— I mean, not mine, but I’m… your… omega, in a way,” Lelia answered haltingly. “I’ve been assigned to you to meet your needs, to keep you happy and content so you can be a more efficient soldier. That’s what the program director said, anyway…”

“This program is ridiculous,” König stated flatly. “I do not need an omega to be a good soldier.”

Seeing Lelia’s shoulders hunch as she curled in on herself, he rushed to continue.

“But that is not why I dislike it. It preys on vulnerable omegas like you. Omegas who have been hurt,” he said softly, his hand moving to cup her cheek gently. His palm practically covered half her face, but she leaned into his touch nonetheless, and the Alpha in him preened. “Omegas who do not think they can say no.”

“It always hurts more when I say no,” Lelia admitted, whisper-quiet. Her voice was resigned, accepting. This was simply a fact of her reality. It made König’s heart squeeze tightly in his chest, and he fought the urge to pull her into his arms and never let go.

“I will not hurt you for saying no,” he told her, trying to impress the sincerity of his words into her brain. “I will not deprive you of comforts for not giving yourself to me. I will not mistreat you for any reason.”

A complicated look flashed through Lelia’s eyes in less than a second. He couldn’t name every emotion, but he did recognize a hint of skepticism—right alongside hope.

Little steps, he reminded himself.

König let his hand drop from her face, standing up, joints popping. He groaned quietly at the faint ache, a product of his size and his years of military service. He was young for a Colonel, but what he lacked in age he made up for in brutal efficiency in the field—a fact which had left him with plenty of lingering scars and pains.

“Try to sleep, Schatz,” he told her softly as she peered up at him with those big eyes of hers. He felt like she could see right through to someone’s soul with them. Like she could see his. “I am taking you out tomorrow. You have been stuck in this room for far too long.”

[michanvalentine]

Lately, I feel like a total perverted maniac obsessing over Baldur’s Gate 3 scenes, since I keep watching them over and over… especially the ones involving my pixelated vampire boyfriend.

Anyway, I was goofing off as usual and rewatching the scene where Astarion either makes a move for the first time or not during the tiefling party. Now, maybe someone else has already pointed this out and it’s been discussed at length or maybe I'm talking a lot of nonsense, but when our pale elf approaches with the bottle in hand, saying he never imagined himself as the hero praised for saving so many lives—and then adds that now that he’s here, he finds it awful and hates it—it feels to me like he’s hiding what he really thinks about the whole thing (perhaps he doesn’t even fully understand what he feels). Let me explain.

Astarion says he never imagined himself as a hero, etc, then adds “and now that I’m here,” pauses, leaves the thought hanging, and takes a drink from the bottle. Only then does he say it’s awful and he hates it. But… is he talking about the wine or about being a hero? The scene is well-constructed, the dialogue is ambiguous, but when you choose to drink from the same bottle, Astarion points out, “See what I mean? Awful!” So, he was talking about the wine!

Of course, he goes on to complain about the company (“I’m surrounded by idiots!”), the taste of the drink (“It tastes like vinegar!”), the fact that their heroic outing hasn’t changed the world, and that all he got for his trouble was nothing (“Just a pat on the head!”). But, in reality, Astarion never actually says that saving lives disgusted him!

He doesn’t say he enjoys it either, mind you, especially since in the first act of the game he’s still very much keeping to himself, selfish to the core, and focused on his own survival. Let’s not forget that just a few days earlier, he was still under Cazador’s thumb. But in my opinion, the fact that he found himself in the role of the hero—even though it’s a situation he would have gladly avoided—left a mark on him... something he doesn’t actually talk about, even when it seems like he is. Unlike Shadowheart, who openly admits it despite being surprised by it. A thought, a feeling perhaps, that the vampire spawn keeps to himself, hidden beneath his quips and the mask he keeps firmly in place. He’s not ready yet to let go of his beliefs, his worldview, and everything he’s learned about life in the worst possible way. However, this experience has marked the beginning of something. Something he’s perhaps still trying to rationalize and understand. That’s why he’d rather talk about the wine and complain about the boring party! xD

Let’s remember that Astarion is a dramatic, whiny diva, especially when things don’t go his way. xD But his frustration, going back to the wine tasting like vinegar, probably stems more from that detail than from saving lives. After all, as he says, it’s terrible and he hates it, simply because it’s not blood. And honestly, can you blame him? Poor vampire spawn, always hungry!