In the spring of 2023, several news outlets reported the heart-warming story of a fourteen-year-old autistic boy who made a poster and presented it to a female classmate, asking her to be his valentine. The girl said no, whereupon the boy's mother took to social media, recounting the tale and emphasising just how 'shy and socially awkward' her son was. The story got national attention and 'the next day at school, a number of [the boy's] classmates approached him with kind words and offers to be his valentine'. One girl 'presented him with a poster like the one he had made to ask the girl the day before'. He became a high-status victim, at least for a day; the girl he had initially asked out, a heartless bully. Yet what exactly had had she been supposed to do? Say yes when she didn't want to in order to spare him humiliation?
The story illustrates many of the problems with 'just' being kind. In the eyes of some, the boy's autism elevated him above the other boys who pressure girls to do things they do not want. His shyness and social awkwardness were problems the original girl could have solved simply by saying yes. Maybe she judged boys like him just because they were different. Her rejection became, not a simple expression of her desires – just as his choice to ask her, rather than another girl, had been – but a judgment on his worth as a human being, one which the rest of the world set about correcting. To some, the boy had a right to kindness and validation which the girl was withholding. But what of her right to have her needs respected? There's a suggestion that while all girls have the right to say no, it would make life a lot easier if they could train themselves not to, coupled with the old message that girls are better than boys at manipulating their desires – see how many of them were willing to approach the boy the next day! There's so much prejudice in the world, but if girls agreed to offer themselves to the boys who felt most left out, we'd have begun the work of removing it. Taken to its logical conclusion, this is incel thinking.
– Victoria Smith (2025) (Un)kind: How 'Be Kind' Entrenches Sexism, pp. 105-6.
youre fanfics are amazing! could you do an ambessa fanfic with a reader with Stockholm syndrome from yonder ambessa. ambessa is finally able to get the reader to ask her to stay instead of leave.
if its too much then thats ok 🙂↕️
thank you so much author-san.
The Afternoon.
A/N: so... February 21st this ask was sent... hi...
Ambessa had rushed to your side the moment she was alerted you sought her company. It wasn't something you did, not without a considerable level of desperation for someone's comfort- were you ill again? Had you fallen sick? She knew allowing you to accompany her through walks in the markets would be detrimental to your health. You were a soft thing requiring support and consistency, even in your environment.
The hall outside your chambers was noticeably quiet, no doctors awaiting her with a diagnosis already decided, no maids trembling with their gaze stuck to the embroidered carpets beneath her heavy step. Perhaps you had been left alone since your personal attendant had come to relay your request, insolence in her household yet again. She had thought there would be no repeats of such things since the last time you had attempted something foolish in trying to escape her.
Punishments would be dealt later, for now you required her and she was obliged to answer.
Her arms rose to push open the heavy doors, her body still shone with a layer of sweat from sparring halfway across the estate, her arms bulging with the effort on her aching muscles. Nothing she couldn't endure, familiar pain grounded her from her spiraling thoughts now.
The doors swung shut behind her, hitting together with a heavy bang that echoed through the room. You flinched at the noise, back turned to her as you kept your gaze on the open balcony as if transfixed by the way the curtains fluttered in the breeze. They reached from the outside, almost reaching for their freedom from the curtain rods.
She would've believed you were transfixed by them, anyway. If you weren't turning your head just a little as if to catch a peak of her from the corner of your eye.
She approached with slow, measured steps. No prepared butter knife in your lap today, hands shaking as they gripped the skirt of your nightgown. She watched them from over your shoulder, eventually wiping her hand on her top and resting it on your shoulder.
“You called for me?”
You shuddered at her voice, mouth seeming to open and a stuttered noise leaving your throat. You were trying to say something, but it came out unclear, so you cleared your throat and tried again. She was patient, as she always tried to be.
You did manage to get the words out this time, albeit too quiet for her to hear. Her grip tightened a little as she asked you gently to repeat yourself.
“I just wanted to be with you for the afternoon.”
Still quiet, not unsure of yourself but almost as if you had a little too much time to yourself second guessing what you were about to say, and after repeating it in your mind it sounded wrong. It was wrong- Ambessa had not expected it. You were a fighter in that way, able to resist giving into her since she first found you, begging was not something you easily resorted to. Perhaps it was the begging in this case that confused her, no certainly not, upon a moment of consideration, you wanted her.
You asked for her company without a plan to try and overpower her or trick her- if you did have a plan you wouldn't be shaking or avoiding her gaze, you would be confident in yourself. You held yourself like even you didn't understand your words, it was enough to tell her you were being unwelcomingly sincere.
“You…” She found herself moving around the front of you, not crouching to your level yet, just standing in front of the sofa you were sitting on. “You Wanted to be with me?”
You didn't answer this time, your mouth opened and closed, you shifted to avoid her gaze even further. She took a breath, knelt in front of you and held your face in her hands. She almost laughed when you cringed at the sheen covering her skin, luckily there was a breeze coming through the room to dry her.
“You wanted to be with me.”
She did not ask this time, she understood. You wanted her and perhaps you were not sure why, perhaps you were at war with yourself as well as just with her. Perhaps you were finally realising that she was your home.
Whatever the case, this was a chance she would not give up. If you were beginning to believe, you were on a road to accepting your new place by her side, in her home.
“You have me now.” She assured, moving your face to force eye contact. She could see the way your eyelids fluttered, confused and comforted- confused by the comfort. “You have me for the afternoon.”
You nibbled the inside of your cheek anxiously, wordless. She found it a blessing that you were listening for once.
“I have you for the afternoon.”
“You have me for eternity.”
She promised it that night too, as you were falling asleep in bed beside her, not cuddling her, but foregoing the pillow wall you usually erected between you both.
You had Ambessa forever. And she had you the same, you were finally beginning to realise it.
dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics
i love all the stuff talking about how Blue feels being the only mortal on his team and the feelings that come with your friends being gods/demi-gods. However☝ I do think at one point when Blue, Ink, and Dream had just started working together Ink had stayed at Blue's place, and when Blue went down to the kitchen for a glass of water he found Ink eating a marker. And from then on the mistique around the two kinda just faded as he got to know them and he kept thinking, "By the angel what is wrong with them."
As an ambulatory wheelchair user, i find it relatable when people describe short long dogs like corgis as “scared of stairs”. Have you considered. Perhaps. That stairs are uncomfortable for that dog. Do you think we maybe didnt design stairs with that dog’s body in mind? Its ok little buddy, people call my disabilities “fears” too
