#Hoo-boy can I do longer

[purpldawne]

for an akifuyu stan i sure do struggle to draw autumn and winter troupe

[pumpkinbxtch]

— two people, one umbrella ∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° headcanons

the hoO boys when starts to rain and there's just one umbrella. ft. apollo

who's here: frank zhang, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson and apollo

warnings: none

a/n: its friday, so headcanons arrives here. kisses for y'all. enjoy.

— frank *⁠.⁠✧

This guy doesn't hesitate for a second, he's got you covered with the umbrella, most (if not all) of it.

"I don't want you getting sick," he says while holding the umbrella.

He's so tall he doesn't need to raise it any higher than necessary, and you keep pushing it toward the center so each of you gets at least a little covered.

He might pretend he's covered, but his shoulder is getting terribly soaked.

He's thinking about the shape-shift, imagining what it would be like if you had a canary on your shoulder while walking in the dry, safe rain.

But in the end, he obeys you. He takes your hand and tries to cover both of you (because he thought he might get sick, then you'd want to help him, and he doesn't want to bother you).

— jason *⁠.⁠✧

Once the umbrella is fully open, he figures out the best way for both of you to be covered, always putting you first in his mind.

He moves you in front of him, but he can see you might trip.

He considers just covering you, but he knows you'd both end up fighting and getting wet anyway.

So, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer. Now, you're both under the umbrella, dry.

He smiles at you and takes advantage of the closeness to kiss your cheek and your knuckles.

“let me, my love” he says soflty if you try to help him with the umbrella.

He's the type to hold your hand and tuck it into his jacket to keep you warm.

Another thing he could do is control the air so the umbrella holds itself up and you can walk together even more comfortably.

— leo *⁠.⁠✧

"I already anticipated that!" he exclaimed when he saw that both of you weren't completely covered by the umbrella he was carrying and smiled eagerly at you.

He presses a button on the umbrella's handle and it expands even more, Hurray! You're both covered.

But...

As you continue walking on the sidewalk, Leo looks at other couples in similar positions, only much closer, cuddling and lovingly playing around, while the umbrella with the improvements he invented works so well that you even walk a bit away from him.

Oh no... :(

He wants to do those cheesy things with you too, and he plays the fool.

If a child of Hephaestus can fix something, they can also break it, so he presses the button too hard, for breaking it. The extra space is gone.

"What happened?" you ask confused, some drops start to wet your hair, and Leo smiles seeing how beautiful the dew looks on you,

he just shrugs "I don't know, I guess it doesn't work anymore" he says uninterestedly, and he pulls you to him impatiently,

definitely using some of his warmth so you don't get cold.

He adjusts himself, hugs you, and you walk together.

— percy *⁠.⁠✧

He literally gives a fuck if it rains or not, so the problem is, he never carries an umbrella.

But that's because he can control his waterproofing. If Percy Jackson doesn't want to get wet, he won't, but you're not him.

"Don't worry, babe," he says with a confident smile as you cover yourself with your hand from the increasingly heavy rain.

He bites his lips and looks above you, now the rain avoids you both, and you're no longer getting wet.

He winks at you, and you hug him sideways. Let the mist take care of what others see, and he leans in for a kiss. You give it to him.

suddenly feeling the drops hitting your hair again. For a few seconds, neither of you cares, and he hugs you, prolonging the kiss.

A kiss in the rain.

When the water trickles down your noses and you can taste some of those drops, you break apart with a giggle.

"Oops," he says, and he focuses again to keep you both rain-free.

Though you run to get home as soon as possible because for Percy, it's hard not to want to stop and kiss and cuddle you.

— apollo *⁠.⁠✧

He's a god, and the god of the Sun. He could literally make a few calls to get rid of that silly rain bothering his beloved.

But oh no, Apollo lives for the drama, for love, it's for the feelings he exist, so he conjures up an umbrella and covers you.

Apollo will definitely sing "Singing in the Rain" while dragging you along and giving you gentle spins.

For him, it's such a mundane moment, but because he's with you, he wants to turn it into the greatest musical ever told, because it's for the two of you and for him, it's better.

He takes your hand and swings it with great humor.

He's literally a sun walking on the streets full of people grumpy because of the bad weather and a gray, cloudy landscape.

When he sees you smile and chuckle, his spirit overflows with joy, and unintentionally, the sun appears among those clouds, and the rainbow makes a nice trio in the sky.

He gives you a peck on the lips when you raise your eyebrows at his mischief.

"I can't help it," he says with a smile and links your arm with his to continue the walk.

*⁠.⁠✧

[heartshapedbubble]

Ello can I request a Norton Fools good x fem reader where she came across the blown up mines and sees Norton (in his hunter form) she’s scared at first but starts to recognise him and slowly starts to approach him reaching her hand up to cub his cheeks ( bro this man needs all the love! )

HOO BOY i agree tho... his release made me regain my interest in norton🫡🫡

[not to be a scum but i'm still open for sanrio emma comms btw😭😭]

fool's gold: imagine...⛏️

cut for length!

paying the bills has become a hellish cycle. break your back to pay off the expenses, relax for the following twenty-ish days, and be sent into frenzy again, not knowing if you're going to have a roof over your head tomorrow or not.

you found yourself hopelessly skimming through newspaper, looking for any job offer possible that would easen up the burden on your wallet. The paper was plastered with offers from bars, post offices and restaurants, but those were a always gamble. will you get your wage or not? and if you will, when? too much effort for something so high-risk.

at last, a small offer in the corner of the page caught your attention. pressed in miniscule letters, it said: MINE RESEARCH. EMPLOYEES URGENTLY NEEDED. EQUIPMENT PROVIDED. underneath the text, an attractive number: $15,000 payed off immediately after the job is done.

not only could this solve the rent for the following 3 months, you'd also have some money left for yourself! you rang the number the second you got home and successfully scored the job, due to the urgency of the situation.

it took you a day or two to start thinking about the job. what do you exactly need to know for mine research? probably at least some physical strength and stamina, you thought. surely it can't be too complex.

you arrived at the mine right on time, the sun slowly slipping back into the horizon to let the moon take center stage. to your dismay, you realized no one else applied for the job. maybe this wasn't a good idea after all? crawling through the narrow, rocky terrain all alone doesn't sound like the ideal scenario. no living being in sight, and 20 minutes have already went by.

still, that money is way too good to pass up. you picked up one of the yellow helmets piled up at the entrance, prayed to whatever god out there that your flashlight has enough power to last the following 2 hours and mindlessly rushed into the collapsing mine.

for the following 10 minutes, your sight unfocused while your mind took the lead, in front of and all around you just rocks and grime, shadows dispelled by the flashlight held by your hip like a lance. only after a good 5 minutes of running did you realize that you, in fact, have no idea what you're supposed to do. what qualifies as mine research? mining, inspecting the ores, measuring the surface?

all sweaty and breathless, the tunnel led you to a large room inside of the mine, the roof extending towards what seemed like a pitch black abyss. carts messily thrown around, bumpy and unpolished geodes laying all over the place, when was the last time a living being stepped foot into this mine? it made sense that such a large sum of money was needed to attract volunteers.

you carefully moved through the rubble, trying to avoid stepping onto pickaxes and shrapnel splayed all over the ground. since you forgot about the gloves your bare hand now held onto the unpromising terrain, the other firmly squeezing the only source of light in this limbo.

the surface grazing your hand now seems like it became... smoother? no longer does it cut and pierce your palms. it's bumpy, but at least you're not risking an infection anymore.

moving inch by inch in fear of falling, the stone below changes its form. you don't even pay attention to the fact that you're now grabbing onto cloth and that, below your palm, a steady pulse is faintly beating.

it's already too late when you realize that you're not alone, and the stone below you starts to take shape and morph until it extends towards the ceiling, now towering over you, slouched like a ragdoll.

complementing the cold shades of grey, a face emerges from the shadows. pale, with defined cheekbones, although malnourished. only his bust passes as human, as below his collarbones there's nothing but a mosaic of pebbles and boulders forming his torso, arms and legs. it - or he, perhaps - is breathing with struggle, coughs interrupting his wheezes here and there.

you feel a sense of dread overcoming you. you freeze on the spot, but he doesn't budge, either. lifeless except for the fact he's breathing and his heart ticks like a machine.

you draw back a step, and he lunges forward, seemingly still not used to this monstrous body of his. he could harm me with ease if he wanted to, a thought suddenly manifests in your mind, and with newfound bravery you inspect the cryptid like a sculpture. your hand grazes over his bumpy and unfinished hands, tugs at the remains of his clothes around his chest. he groans, in annoyance, you assume, but doesn't resist. you climb up a cart to reach his face, your fingers pinch his stubborn hairstrands, inspect the cavity in which his other eye once laid. in a moment of either stupidity or courage you roughly pinch his cheeks - they're cold to the touch, but it's funny how naturally does his intimidating face mush like a little boy's. kind of cute. after a minute of cooing to yourself two of his rocky fingers gently pinch your wrists and put them back to your sides, but his one foggy eye doesn't divert its gaze from yours.

perhaps the flashlight can last an hour more.. you've just began getting to know him, and the mystery of the mine and his origin still lay cold for you to discover.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Summary: With no friends and the looming threat of losing custody of his son, Eddie's the lowest he's ever been. But you know what they say: “Rock bottom just means there’s nowhere to go except up."

Warnings: angst, visits from CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's

WC: 6k

Chapter 5/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

The phone rings as Eddie wrestles Harris into his jacket. He still hasn’t figured out how to break the news about his classroom change; at this rate, he’ll be dropping him off at school before he works up the nerve. Is there any good way to tell your kid that he no longer gets to spend his days with his favorite teacher?

“Keep that on,” Eddie instructs Harris, pointing to the navy blue sweatshirt. “I’ll zip it for you in a sec.” He jogs over to the phone, answering with an irritated, “Hello?”

“Ed?” Wayne’s voice drifts from the receiver. “It’s Wayne.”

Eddie nods before remembering that Wayne can’t see him. “Y-Yeah, hey,” he says, tone softening at his uncle’s familiarity. There’s a dull ache in his chest when he thinks of how he willingly shut him out over the last month. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Can’t complain.” Wayne clears his throat. “I’d love to see you and Harris. Whenever you get the chance.” Eddie can hear his concern, the unasked questions that dissolve on his tongue: Are you okay? Is Harris? Do I need to file that custody agreement?

He glances over at his son, who, despite Eddie’s promise, is unsuccessfully trying to thread the zipper with its teeth. He motions him over, cradling the phone to his ear and stretching the cord while he kneels to fasten the jacket. “We were actually about to head to the park if you wanted to meet us there,” he says. “This kid’s got way too much energy to keep him cooped up in the apartment. We’ll both lose our minds.”

Wayne lets out a kind chuckle. “Sounds like a Munson.” Eddie can hear the tinny jangle of his keys. “The park over on Porter Drive?”

“Yup.”

“Dad, let’s go!” Harris whines, twisting the doorknob back and forth to emphasize his impatience.

“We’ll be there in ten,” Eddie tells Wayne, catching a glimpse of the neon orange cast peeking out from under Harris’s jacket. It’s now adorned with his classmates’ names. Your signature seems to beckon Eddie, taunt him, even, and he tries to convince himself that it’s because it’s the only one that doesn’t resemble chicken scratch. “Oh, Harris broke his wrist, but he’s fine. I’ll explain everything when I see you.”

“Hoo boy,” Wayne breathes. “Definitely a Munson.”

Harris spends the short drive to the park bouncing in his carseat. “Is Grampa Wayne gonna play with me?” he asks, rocking back and forth excitedly.

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, keeping his eyes trained on the road. He nervously thrums his fingers along his jean-clad thighs. What if Wayne still didn’t think he was a responsible parent? What if he took one look at Harris’s injury and raced home to call his lawyer? “But I gotta talk with him first, okay? You can play by yourself for a little while.”

Harris hums his agreement, eagerly unbuckling as soon as Eddie parks the car. He starts to run towards the field, and all Eddie can picture is him tripping and hurting himself again.

“Harris, don’t–” he starts, but he then remembers those magic words: “Walking feet, bud. Don’t want you breaking that other wrist.” He grabs the soccer ball from the trunk and kicks it in Harris’s direction.

Wayne pulls up in his truck a few moments later, almost as exuberant as his grandson. “Har-Bear!” he calls out, opening his arms wide for a hug. Harris picks up his pace, slowing down when he remembers his dad’s instructions.

“I’m using my walking feet!” he chirps proudly, and though they’re fast walking feet, Eddie beams at him.

Wayne squeezes Harris so tightly that Eddie worries he’ll inadvertently cut off his oxygen supply. When the boy starts squirming, Wayne laughs and puts him down.

“Go ahead and play,” Eddie tells his son. “Grampa Wayne and I are gonna catch up real quick.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence as the two men sit on the bench, waiting for the other to say something first. Finally, Wayne breaks through the tension.

“Missed you two,” he murmurs, not looking at Eddie. “‘S too quiet around my place without that little rugrat.”

“We missed you, too,” Eddie admits, chewing on his thumbnail. “Harris won’t stop asking for Grampa Wayne.”

Wayne preens slightly at this, shifting in his seat. “This is the longest we’ve gone without talking since…”

“I know,” Eddie cuts him off, not wanting to revisit the part of his past that Wayne’s referencing. “I, uh, started working at Rock Records,” he tells him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It sucks, but it’s a job.”

He feels Wayne clap him on the shoulder, pulling him closer to him for a brief side hug. “I’m proud of you, Ed.” He purses his lips before asking, “and no more of the…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nope, I’m done with that. Returned the rest of what I had to Rick; told him I was out.” His gaze drops back to the ground, and he stares intently at the blades of grass as though they might disappear if he blinks. “But that might not matter anymore anyway, so…”

“The hell you talking about?” Wayne pinches his eyebrows together, adjusting his position to face his nephew.

Sighing, Eddie tells him about what happened at the hospital last week. Wayne’s eyes widen when he hears that they filed a report with CPS. “That’s some bullshit,” he mumbles, scratching at his gray beard. “Kids get hurt all the time. Can’t keep ‘em in a bubble.” He shakes his head incredulously. “They’re not gonna take him from you, okay? They’re gonna see how you provide for him, how great you are with him, and they’re gonna be sorry they wasted their time.”

“I’m not great with him,” Eddie mutters, standing up in a feeble attempt to exert some of his nervous energy. “I’m ruining his life.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “He had this teacher, and he adored her. Calls her ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’ And I was just…just a total asshole to her. I accused her of telling people about the CPS thing and said some really fucked up shit about her sick grandma and…fuck, Wayne. She had Harris transferred to another class just so she doesn’t have to deal with me. And now I have to say, ‘Hey, you know that teacher you fuckin’ loved? Well, she’s not your teacher any more, and it’s all my fault.’”

Wayne absorbs the information, contemplating what he says next. “So fix it,” he shrugs.

“It’s not that simple,” Eddie argues, plopping back down onto the bench in defeat. The wood digs into his lower back uncomfortably, so he stands up again.

“It’s not?” Wayne questions, digging a pack of Newports out of his jacket pocket and offering one to him. “Because it sounds to me like you owe this ‘Ms. Sweetheart’ an apology.”

Eddie takes a cigarette, toying with it before tucking it between his lips. It takes a few flicks of his old Bic lighter to get a spark, and he lets the nicotine calm his nerves before speaking again. “I don’t think she’ll forgive me.”

“Never said she would,” Wayne counters, plucking the Bic from Eddie’s hands and bringing the flame to light his own cigarette. “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t apologize.”

Inhaling sharply, Eddie watches his son kick the ball around before letting out a slow, controlled exhale. “My boss asked if I could teach guitar lessons once or twice a week,” he says, using his empty hand to toy with the frayed holes in his jeans. “If…if you wanna, could you watch Harris? I can pay you.”

“Don’t insult me, boy,” Wayne scoffs, but a playful smile dances on his lips. “You’re not gonna pay me to watch my own grandson. Just let me know the day and time, and I’ll have a pot of mac and cheese ready to go.”

The pent-up tension dissipates from his body at Wayne’s easy agreement. An unspoken I love you floats between them, and he could cry from the sudden surge of relief.

“Daddy! Grampa!” Harris calls out from across the park. “Let’s play!”

Wayne stands up with a grunt, rolling his shoulders back to loosen them up. “You heard the man,” he jokes. “Up and at ‘em.”

It’s your first day off of work since the start of the school year, yet all you can think about are your students. Well, one particular student and his god-awful father. Eddie’s comment replays in your mind, cutting through you like the chilly mid-October air. The sting still hasn’t faded, despite it being three days since he’d said it. 

You say goodbye to your grandma and Elise, her home health aid, grabbing your car keys and closing the door behind you. This morning was already overwhelming; Grandma had woken up at 5 AM, ready to start her day. The sound of her TV blasting at the highest possible volume jolted you from your sleep, and you’d spent the following twenty minutes trying to persuade her to go back to bed. Unsuccessfully, you might add. 

You wince when you see your reflection in the rearview mirror. Your eyes are puffy and bloodshot, with pouches developing beneath them that only emphasize your exhaustion. You practice smiling a few times before starting the car, peeling out of the parking lot to meet Jess, Viv, and Jeff for lunch.

The pleasant aroma of burgers cooking on a grill wafts past your nose as you push open the doors to the restaurant. It isn’t too crowded when you arrive; you assume that the usual lunchtime rush is quelled by the Columbus Day holiday. Your new friends are already waiting at the table, waving you over excitedly.

“Hey,” you call out, forcing pleasantries into your otherwise flat tone. You slide into the seat next to Jess and across from Jeff. “How’s everyone been?”

“Better, now that I’m out of the first trimester,” Viv says with a small laugh. “Now that I have my appetite back, I’m definitely getting the grilled cheese.” She glances at the menu again, adding, “and a side of fries.”

Jess nods. “I think I’ll do the same.” She turns to you and her cheerful expression shifts to one of concern. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, just tired.” Your lackluster reply is unconvincing, but she doesn’t challenge it in front of Jeff and her sister. “Chasing after kids all day is wearing me out.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Viv exclaims, taking a sip of her water. “You’re a preschool teacher. The one with Eddie’s kid in your class!”

“Mhm,” you manage; the mere mention of Eddie’s name turns your throat into sandpaper. “Well, not any more, I guess.” Your throwaway comment is met with inquisitive stares, so you give the group a rundown of last week’s events, watching their eyes grow wide.

“He’s such a fucking douche,” Jess grumbles, resting her hand over yours. It feels like forever since you’ve experienced the simplicity of a kind gesture, and you have to swallow the emotion that comes with it. 

“Seriously,” Viv agrees, looking over at Jeff. “Why were you even friends with him?”

Jeff lets out a terse chuckle and shakes his head. “Believe it or not, he actually used to be a good guy. The best, in my opinion.” Disappointment flashes across his face as he continues. “Something changed when he went to Chicago. He was always on-guard, had his walls up, but it used to be more of an ‘if you mess with me, I’ll mess with you’ attitude. But when he came back home, he was…different.”

“Different how?” Curiosity gets the best of you, and the question slips off of your tongue before you can stop it.

“It was like he was determined to hurt people before they could hurt him. No matter what I did, he never fully believed that I was on his side. I was constantly trying to prove that I wasn’t out to fuck him over.”

Viv drapes an arm over her fiancé’s shoulder. “How long did he live in Chicago, again?”

“Long enough to knock someone up,” Jeff muses, mind wandering for a moment before he brings himself back to the conversation. “About four years, I think? He left to chase his dreams of being a rockstar. Then one day, he shows back up in Hawkins with an infant, trying to act like nothing had changed.” He snorts at the very idea of it. “But it obviously did–I mean, besides the fact that he had a whole child, the rest of us had grown up, too. College, work, all that stuff.

“When he suggested getting Corroded Coffin back together, we figured, why not? It seemed like a decent way to chill out, blow off some steam at the end of the day.”

“Let me guess,” you chime in, cocking your head knowingly. “Eddie had other ideas.”

Jeff nods. “He still wanted to do the rockstar thing. And he’d always get angry at us because we didn’t. Not professionally, anyway. Kept mocking us for having 9-to-5 jobs, like it was the worst thing in the world.” He pauses, screwing up his face in contemplation. “Which, come to think of it, was weird. Because back in high school, he told me that it really messed with him, not having that stability growing up. Y’know, before Wayne took him in.”

There’s so much more you want to know, but the waiter striding over to the table to take orders brings the conversation to a natural conclusion. What you’ve gathered so far is that Eddie Munson is a many-layered man, each one more puzzling than the last. Despite your festering hurt and anger, you can’t help but hope that he untethers himself from his complicated past. If not for his sake, then for Harris’s.

“Daddy, what’s a new cents?”

Eddie’s taking the left turn onto the main road when he hears his son speaking from the back seat. “What’s new since when?” he asks, craning his head to check for oncoming traffic. 

“Noooo,” Harris whines, letting out an exasperated sigh. Eddie has no clue where his new attitude came from, and he can’t say that he’s a fan. “A new cents.”

“That’s not a thing, buddy,” Eddie answers, starting to twist the radio knob. 

“Yes, it is!” Harris insists, clearly growing frustrated. “Ms. Marion told Ms. Paula that I’m a ‘new cents.’”

It suddenly clicks for Eddie, and he grips the steering wheel tighter and hopes Harris doesn’t notice the edge in his voice. “You mean a nuisance?”

“That’s what I said!” Harris groans. “What does it mean?”

Eddie pushes past the question to ask one of his own. “What exactly did Ms. Marion say?” Maybe there was a misunderstanding, he reasons with himself. 

But Harris’s answer only confirms his initial suspicion. “She looked at Ms. Paula and said, ‘this one’s a ‘new cents.’ An’ then she pointed to me.”

“Why the hell would she say that?” Eddie’s speaking to himself, but his son replies, still too young to grasp the concept of rhetorical questions. 

“‘Cause of my shoes being untied. An’ she doesn’t like when I ask her to tie them.”

Eddie cringes. He’d meant to teach Harris how to tie his sneakers, but the lessons had to be put on hold when the kid had broken his wrist. Pausing before posing his next question, Eddie carefully selects his words. “Did…Did Ms. Sweetheart ever do that? Get mad about your shoes or call you a nuisance?”

“Nope,” Harris shakes his head. “An’ Mr. Will didn’t either.” And considering that his laces had always been tied in neat bows when Eddie arrived to pick him up, he can only assume that the two of you did this without a second thought. Jesus, why even bother to be a preschool teacher if you’re gonna bitch about tying shoes?

“So, what is it?” Harris snaps him from his thoughts. 

“Huh?” Eddie’s right foot presses on the brake as he approaches a stop sign. “Oh. Um, I don’t know. Sorry, Har.” It’s the second time in as many days that he’s lied to him in order to spare his feelings. Yesterday, he’d waited until they were already in the school to tell Harris that he was picked for a super special project where he’d act as a secret agent in another class. He didn’t know whether to be proud or ashamed that he’d spent all night thinking of that excuse. 

“‘S’okay,” Harris shrugs, raising and dropping his legs so they bounce off the bottom of his carseat. His ankles are exposed, and Eddie realizes that he must’ve grown. Again. Which means that he needs to scrape together some money and buy him new clothes. Again. “How much more days until I get to go back to Ms. Sweetheart’s class?”

“Not sure.” Lie number three. He flicks on the radio, the sounds of Ozzy effectively distracting Harris for the remainder of the car ride. 

If only it was that easy to fool himself. 

A harsh knock on your classroom door and the formality of your first and last name draws your attention from the mountain of paperwork on your desk. Will left thirty minutes ago with the rest of the TAs, so you’ve been sitting alone, humming a song you’d listened to on the car ride to work.

“Yes, that’s me,” you tell the tall man standing in the doorway. His intimidating stature and sullen disposition juxtapose the orange and yellow hues of autumn-themed artwork lining the walls. “Can I help you?”

He flashes a name tag as he steps into the classroom. “My name is Andrew Smith. I’m here on behalf of Child Protective Services to speak to you regarding one of your students…” he checks his notes, “Harris Munson.”

“Oh, um,” you stumble over your words, “he’s–he’s not my student any more. Not since Tuesday of this week.”

“Right,” the social worker nods slowly, patience already running thin, “but I briefly spoke with his new teacher, and she said that she didn’t have enough information to answer the questions, and directed me to your classroom.” When you don’t respond, he gives the legal rundown about the process and your obligations as a mandated reporter. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s proceed with this, shall we?” He clicks his pen, eyes boring a hole into you as he speaks. “How well would you say you know Harris’s father, Edward Munson?”

More intimately than you know, you bitterly think. “Fairly well. He dropped Harris off and picked him up every day.”

Mr. Smith scribbles that down. “Was Edward Munson punctual? Did he drop off and pick up Harris on time?”

“Yes,” you confirm, and your mind flickers back to the very first day of school. “There was only one time he was late for pick-up, but it’s common for that to happen once in a while with any parent.”

“Right, okay. And how would you describe Harris’s disposition around his father?”

“He adores him. He’s a generally happy kid, but he lights up around his dad. Or even when he’s just talking about him.” One lunchtime conversation in particular centered around how his dad could play anything on the guitar, even “Old MacDonald.” Harris had been bursting with excitement to report that Eddie made the funniest animal sounds, and you’d be lying if you’d said your interest wasn’t piqued. “I’ve never seen Harris act nervous or scared around him.”

Pen flies across the paper, and you swear he’s writing more than you’d even said. “Besides the broken wrist, did you ever notice any injuries or abnormal bruising anywhere on Harris’s body?” 

You shake your head before realizing he’s waiting for a verbal response. “Nope, never. Just the usual bruises that come with being a kid.”

Mr. Smith cocks his eyebrow, pressing his lips together. “And where were those bruises located?”

Shit. Did you say too much? Why can’t you just shut up when you’re nervous? “Knees and calves?” You point to the spots on your own body, as though the social worker needs visual aides, while silently berating your own stupidity.

“And based on your interactions with him, how would you describe Edward Munson as a father?” It’s a loaded question, and its magnitude is a weight on your chest. 

“Caring, attentive, very loving,” you answer honestly. “Responsible. Harris always showed up with lunch and a snack, bathed, clean clothes, whatever supplies he needed. I never worried that Harris was unsafe or in an unhealthy environment.” You force yourself to meet Mr. Smith’s gaze when you say the next part. “We, um, actually were at the hospital at the same time. My grandma got hurt, and we bumped into them when being discharged.”

This grabs his attention. “And did Mr. Munson appear to be impaired or otherwise behaving out of sorts?” The way he looks at you could easily be mistaken for a glare. “Under the influence of any substances, perhaps?”

“Not at all.” You keep your tone firm and even.

He shoves the paperwork at you, pointing to where your signature is required. “Thank you for your time,” he says flatly, leaving the room before you have time to reply. It seems nearly impossible to go back to the task you were working on before the interruption, but you try to push away the intrusive thoughts about everything that could possibly go wrong.

An hour later, the heavy-handed knock raps on the door to the Munson’s apartment. Eddie knows the drill; unfortunately, this isn’t his first run-in with Child Protective Services. He’s double, triple, quadruple-checked that every electrical outlet is covered, the matches and lighters are far from Harris’s reach, and there’s no remaining product from his recently-abandoned dealing days. The visit is technically unannounced, but since he’s not getting many visitors these days, there are limited options of who could be at his door.

“Edward Munson?” The social worker asks, giving him the same opening spiel he gave you. “I’ll just need to take a look around your home and make sure it’s a suitable living environment for your son.”

“Of course.” Eddie hopes he sounds more confident than he feels, but he can sense the waver in his voice. “Yeah, come on in.” He opens the door a bit wider and lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, drawing unwanted attention from the social worker.

“Something the matter, Mr. Munson?”

“N-No,” Eddie insists, shaking his head. If he confesses to being nervous, this Smith guy could mistake it as an admission of guilt, and that’s the last thing he wants. “Just, um, long day?”

Smith recognizes the response with nothing more than a disbelieving glance as he makes his way through the apartment. Eddie watches silently, pushing down his anxiety with a thick swallow. His mind races when the social worker rummages through the refrigerator. Are there fruits and vegetables in there? Did I throw out that container of leftover spaghetti that overstayed its welcome? His stomach sinks when Smith marks something down in his notes but doesn’t have time to ruminate over it before Harris pokes his head out from the bedroom.

“Daddy? You gonna come back an’ play Hot Wheels with me?” His big brown eyes instantly melt Eddie’s heart, and all he wants to do is scream at the man, See? See how much my kid loves me? See how happy he is? Now, why don’t you go deal with the parents who actually deserve to lose custody and leave me to play with him.

Before Eddie can stop him, Harris traipses out and sees Smith rifling through the pantry. “Who’re you?” he asks.

“Har-Bear, this is Mr. Smith. He’s, uh, one of my friends.” Eddie scrunches his face and shakes his head defeatedly at the blatant lie, but Harris doesn’t notice.

Mr. Smith gives a short wave, neither kind nor impolite. Just one slight movement to acknowledge the boy’s presence. He’s determined to get back to his job, but Harris has other plans.

“I like your glasses.” He points to the wire-rimmed frames on the man’s face. “My Grampa Wayne is s’posed to wear glasses, but he doesn’t. Daddy says it’s ‘cause he’s a mule.”

“Stubborn as a mule, Har,” Eddie gently corrects him, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I’ll be in in a minute, okay?”

But Harris ignores his request, forging towards his dad’s friend. He lifts his arm and flashes an innocent smile. “Look at my cast! It’s from when I jumped on my bed and breaked my arm.”

“Harris!” Eddie hisses, trying to keep his cool. “Can you go play? In the room?” Pleading with him is like negotiating with a terrorist, and he knows his efforts are futile.

“Actually, I do need to take a look at Harris’s bedroom,” the social worker muses, tapping his pen against his lower lip. Eddie has to stifle a scoff at the charade that this just occurred to Smith. Like he didn’t have this mapped out, another bullet point on the list of uninformed judgments he needed to make.

“We, um, we share a room,” Eddie mumbles, as though there would be another possible reason as to why there’s a twin bed nestled into the same space as Harris’s race car bed. “I used to sleep on the couch, it’s just easier to be close to him when he has nightmares an’ stuff.” His heart races when Smith jots this down. “N-Not that he has nightmares a lot. I don’t let him watch scary movies or anything. Just normal kid stuff.”

The man nods, visibly irritated by his rambling. He clamps his mouth shut to inhibit the flow of unnecessary explanations that freely pass through his lips without a second thought.

Harris motions Smith over, using his uninjured hand to grab the stranger’s and leading him into the room. “That’s my bed,” he announces. It sounds like he’s giving a tour, and Eddie almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation. “And that’s where I falled,” Harris points to the unassuming patch of carpet alongside it. 

“Ouch,” Smith mutters, and Eddie swears he can see a semblance of a smile. Leave it to Harris to thaw the most hardened of hearts. “I bet that hurt.”

“Yeah, but there was no blood,” Harris says nonchalantly. “An’ I didn’t need a shot. Just this cast. All my friends signed it. Even Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Ms. Sweetheart?” Smith repeats.

“She’s my teacher. Well, she was my teacher. Now I’m a super secret spy in Ms. Marion’s class, but don’t tell anyone!”

Eddie scoops up a couple of toy cars off of the floor and hands them to Harris, determined to end the conversation before anything else can be revealed. Can you get your kid taken away for being an asshole to his teacher? He doesn’t want to find out. “Here ya go, bud. Why don’t you get the racetrack set up, and I’ll play with you as soon as Mr. Smith leaves.”

“Actually,” Smith says, “I’m about finished. Mr. Munson,” he says, his natural stoicness settling back in as he turns back to Eddie, “after completing this investigation and conducting our interviews, I’ve determined that Harris may remain in your custody. I’ll just need you to sign a few forms and I’ll be on my way.”

Eddie’s relief is palpable. He sweeps Harris into a hug, clutching him to his chest and wordlessly swears to never put him back down. “Th-thank you,” he mumbles, acutely aware of the tears leaking from his eyes. “Wait–what interviews? No one interviewed me.”

Smith nods. “Yes, we spoke with Harris’s teacher. She only had great things to say about how well you take care of him.”

She did? He barely knows the woman; Harris has only been in her class for two full days, and she never indicated any partiality towards him. He makes a mental note to thank her tomorrow at drop-off. For now, all he wants to do is treasure every moment with his boy.

Eddie doesn’t want to let Harris out of his sight, but he begrudgingly takes him to school, not wanting to add a truancy charge to his growing list of misgivings. 

Ms. Marion greets both Munsons with a muted stare, harsh enough to drain Harris of the excited energy that typically buzzes through his little body. “Are we going to listen today?” she quips.

“Yes,” Harris says.

“Yes, what?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Harris’s affect is robotic and monotone, and the uncharacteristic spiritlessness nearly distracts Eddie from thanking the older woman for her interview.

“The guy–um, the social worker–he told me that you said some nice things about me. About how I am with Harris,” he stammers. “So, uh, thank you.”

Ms. Marion crosses her arms over her faded pink sweater, pursing her overlined lips. Her forehead is marred with frown lines. “That wasn’t me, Mr. Munson. I directed him to speak to Harris’s previous teacher, since she spent more time with him.”

Ms. Sweetheart.

After everything he’d said and done, you’d still vouched for him. Spoken so highly of his parenting abilities that CPS allowed him to keep custody of his son. You could’ve easily ruined his life, but you didn’t. 

What Eddie doesn’t understand is why.

Perhaps he doesn’t need to; at least, not immediately. Right now, he just needs to fix this. And he knows exactly where to start.

Friday marks one week since your blowout fight with Eddie. One week since he’d caught you pathetically crying in your car because of the venom he’d spewed. One week since you’d informed him that you’d had Harris transferred to another class.

Which is why you’re confused when the boy bounds up to your classroom door, shouting, “Ms. Sweetheart! Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Hey, Harris,” you greet him, unable to mask your confusion. “What are you doing here? You’re in Ms. Marion’s class now, remember?”

Harris nods, his curls bouncing with each movement. He drops his backpack to the floor with a thud and unfastens the zipper, tongue poking from between his lips as he digs through it to brandish a cassette. “This is for you.”

You take it from him, eyes widening as you take in Toni Braxton’s face staring back at you. “Harris…where did you get this?”

“My daddy put it there and said to give it to you. So I did,” he answers with a shrug. He looks up at you, innocuous and angelic as he adds, “I miss you. I wish you could be my teacher again.”

“Me, too,” you reply before thinking. Clearing your throat, you kneel down to meet him at his height. “Thank you for my gift. It was very sweet. Go ahead and head to class now, okay? I don’t want you to be late.”

“Mmkay!” he chirps, slinging his still-opened bag over his shoulder. “Bye, Ms. Sweetheart.”

Why would Eddie buy you a tape? Why this tape, the one you’d come in for when he’d said such malicious things to you? You can’t make sense of it, regardless of how many times you try to piece together the puzzle.

At dismissal, you find yourself waiting by the door, hoping to catch Eddie before he can dash out of the school. There’s no logic to his actions: he despised you enough to weaponize your grandma’s cognitive decline, and then he gives you a gift with no further explanation. 

You distractedly hand parents the sign-out sheet, barely registering when Joshua Harrington’s dad asks you about any upcoming plans for a class Halloween party. 

“Is there gonna be a list of things you need? Candy or cupcakes or something?”

“Oh, uh, I’m gonna send home information about that next week,” you stumble over your words as you try not to make it obvious that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Great,” he says, stretching out the word as he tracks your gaze to the spot behind him. “Everything okay?”

“Yup.” You slap a smile on your face just as you spot the mane of frizzy curls you’d been searching for. “Um, excuse me for a second.” You call out to Will, letting him know you’ll be right back, before sprinting down the hallway. 

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris’s eager face twists into a frown. “You gotta use your walking feet in school. Or you could get hurt.”

Eddie moves to correct him, but you just smile sweetly. “You’re right, Harris. Thanks for reminding me.”

You allow your gaze to travel upwards, eyes locking onto Eddie’s. You can’t quite read his expression; his brows are furrowed in confusion but the flush in his face indicates that he knows why you’re here. 

“Harris gave me the tape. The Toni Braxton one.” Like he’d gifted you myriad cassettes that required this distinction. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t mention it.” The right corner of his lips turns up into a half-smile. “Besides, I  should probably be the one thanking you.”

“Me?” What is he talking about? As far as you know, you’re the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah. For, uh, what you said to that social worker guy. Even after I treated you like a piece of…” he presses his palms to Harris’s ears and lowers his voice, “shit.”

That makes sense; he was relieved that you’d sang his praises when it had mattered most. This was an expression of gratitude; nothing more and nothing less.

“You’re a good parent, even if you’re mean to me,” you say nonchalantly. “I wasn’t going to make up lies and ruin your lives out of spite.”

The statement hangs in the air, gathering an awkward silence that has you and Eddie both grappling for ways to end the conversation. 

He’s the one to interject. “Well, anyway, I hope you like the tape.”

“Mhm.” It’s all you allow yourself to utter in front of Harris. A thousand questions swarm your head, threatening to spill off your tongue, the first of which is simply: why? “I’ve gotta get back. But, um, enjoy your weekend.” You pivot on your heel before Eddie can wish you the same. With the necessary chaos of your life, you can’t invest any more time trying to unravel him. 

“Daddy, when is Ms. Sweetheart gonna be my teacher again?”

Eddie knew it was inevitable that Harris would ask about going back to your class, but he thought he’d bought himself more time with the spy game he’d concocted. He can’t delay the truth any longer. 

“I’m sorry, buddy. I don’t think you can switch back.” There’s a pang in his heart when his son drops his hand, digging his heels into the parking lot asphalt. 

“Is it because you were mean to her?”

His question catches Eddie off-guard. “Wh-What?”

“In there,” Harris points towards the school, “she said you’re mean to her.” He squints when he looks up at his father, the midday sun shining in his eyes. “Why were you mean?”

Eddie exhales, puffing out his cheeks and rubbing the back of his neck. “Sometimes grownups accidentally hurt each others’ feelings.” Or purposely, in his case, but he omits the complexities from his explanation. He reaches out to once again take Harris’s hand, but the boy pulls back. 

“Ms. Sweetheart says that when we hurt someone’s feelings, we gotta say sorry. Even if it’s on accident.”

“I did,” Eddie counters, raising his brows. “I gave her the tape.”

But Harris remains unconvinced. “That’s not saying sorry. You gotta actually say it. Or else it doesn’t count.”

“It doesn’t count, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue and puts his hands on his hips. “All right, I’ll say it the next time I see her.”

“And then you can be friends?” The question is posed innocently, but it rattles Eddie. Friends? Did he even know how to be a decent friend any more? He’d fucked it all up with Gareth, Jeff, and Danny, and he’s known them for forever. “Daddy?” “Uh, maybe,” Eddie replies meekly; this time, Harris grabs his hand when he offers it. “We’ll just have to see.”

--

taglist 1/2:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

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@bibieddiesgf @theactualf0ck @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights @eggo-segual @rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

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[johnkahner]

Can I request some headcanons of the Lin Kuei trio getting jealous over someone flirting with their crush?

AN: I was working on this off and on. Took longer to finish than I would've like it. I think it turned out alright. Hope you all enjoy. Not proof read.

Notes: Gender-Neutral Reader, Headcanons

Bi-Han

- Hoo Boy. This man is pissed. Like he likes you, but Bi-Han being Bi-Han doesn’t know how to express his feelings to you. - His Brothers notice a shift in his behavior. He is meaner than usual. He even gets angry at you for even listening to the person flirting with you. He thinks you’re flirting back with them. -It takes him some time to tell you about his feelings for you. Will threaten you if he thinks you’re going to mock him or tell others about his moment of vulnerability.

Kuai Liang

- He feels like his heart is going to shatter. - He thinks you’re going to reciprocate the other person’s feelings. Bi-Han calls him weak for letting his emotions get the better of him. - When he finally confesses to you, and you accept his feelings. He feels a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

Tomas Vrbada

- His chest is hurting. He feels really hurt that someone else is flirting with you. - He would probably ask Kuai Liang for some advice because he trusts his judgment. Though he wouldn’t ask Bi-Han due to how he gets treated by him. - I feel like you would have to confess to him. He would be too nervous to do so, but he is so happy to find out you also like him.

[teaboot]

Ok hi I just saw your last post about lube and I have a follow up question that I have tried to get answered by the internet but results are inconclusive

I like to use a silicone toy in the shower. Water based lube washes away IMMEDIATELY. I’ve heard pretty unanimously that you can’t use silicone lube on silicone toys. And now I hear you can’t use oil on silicone either! Which is really unfortunate as i recently bought oil based lube (coconut oil specifically)

Is there any kind of lube it’s ok to use on silicone that won’t get washed away by water?

Thank you so much for fielding questions like this :3

Hoo, boy. That's a difficult one.

Water-based lubes wash away so fast because the non-water ingredients are specifically designed to bind to water- it becomes dilited and washes away.

Silicone and oil ARE better in water for this reason, but you're right, they are bad for materials like silicone, jelly and plastic.

What I'd normally recommend here are three options you have available:

1. Top recommendation: Try a hybrid silicone/water lube that has some of the properties of silicone, but not enough to damage the toy before you can wash it off. The key here is to minimize strength and exposure- just make sure to wash it off as soon as you can so it's not on there too long. Ideally with a liquid soap, like dish soap.

2. Use a condom to cover the toy. There's no risk to you if it breaks, and if it does you can, again, just wash it with liquid soap as soon as you can.

3. Use the oil or silicone lube that you have, and just be certain to wash it thoroughly and quickly afterwards with soap. This is obviously not ideal, and will start to cause damage over time, but if you keep an eye on the surface of the material for any change in color, texture, odour, breakage, or tackiness, you can always replace it once it's no longer fit to use. The downside is that sometimes the best toy you get can be discontinued, but... better to have loved and lost, I suppose?

Those are the usual options I recommend, but if anyone knows or has tried anything for this that works better, please do add on! Always looking to learn.

Thanks for the ask! ♡

[mi-ni-me]

Hooooooomygawd. This is exactly what I was ranting about in my last post! I should’ve been posted this, but of course everytime I try I get immediately distracted and start scrolling or completely forget and walk away doing something else 😅. BUT HEYYYYY IM HEREEEE, and I’ve decided this week’s spread is underfell based since that’s what most doodles I had were🌚. So let’s just jump right into it,,

1-4.)First off an Underfell! Papyrus spread cause I luv him and I wanted to have one to match his brother. I’ve been planning on doing spreads for each skeleton but obviously that’s going to take a little longer than planned lol! My underfell papyrus has no eye-lights, not because he’s blind but because I like it best aesthetically. I also hc he wakes up early to go to the store, but is still grumpy cause it’s 5 am…even though it’s his personal routine he did to himself🌚. Though! He wears sweats and that’s the ONLY time you’ll catch him in some sweats. His primary weapon is a sharp ended bone for easy access, he’s 6’6 with his heeled boots on, which are inspired by a certain someone. Finally, he has a stinky lazy cat named Doomfanger, I personally don’t like cats but I’d try for him,,

5,6,7.)HOO doggy I needs him😩 my uf!Gaster otherwise known as “Ego” n some background info for him and the boys when they were younger. He was the Royal Mad Scientist and very smart yet incredibly self centered, his experiments sons Sans and Papyrus stay home until he gets back after long hours and can be gone for days at a time. Though his oldest, Sans is very responsible they still wish he didn’t work his hours. Finally, before his disappearance into the core, his sons were both visiting before everything went down, Dr.Gaster, who after finally achieving SOMETHING within the core is faced with two incredibly difficult choices, he who is OBVIOUSLY MAD!!!!!??! Decides to instead leave his children in order to see the truth. This without a doubt is one of the first of many hardships young Sans and Payrus face.

8,9,10.)Last but not least a cat study page for Doomfanger since I found out I wanted to draw a cat without knowing how to draw a cat whatsoever, so I practiced!! Doomfanger is stinky cause he doesn’t like baths, lazy from lack of discipline (surprising but Edge can’t even yell at the poor thing.), and greedy from overeating, does this sound like someone we know?🌚 He has a scar across his left eye and half his fluffy tail is almost bare leaving only fluff at the end. Doomfanger doesn’t get along well with his uncle, which many find odd as they’re incredibly similar, too bad they don’t see it themselves. (Bonus Edge holding kitten Doomfanger, the beginning of a deadly friendship. And yes this one is noticeably newer than the others but it’s on the same page and fits the theme so let’s assume it was there from beginning 🌚😂)

[rosietrace]

This is a personal rant about my thoughts on Greek mythology retellings, and just the way Fantasy books and the publishing industry is at this point 🧍‍♀️

I have nothing against Greek mythology retellings, or just anything Greek mythology related in fantasy in general!

However, I have certain gripes about the way Greek mythology is portrayed in media, specifically in the way its interpreted in Fantasy.

[ More under the cut! ]

I love Percy Jackson, and I think that Uncle Rick did a wonderful job at expanding the world and making Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Norse mythology entertaining and easily digestible for young audiences. Genuinely, he does a better job at writing children's books than R*wling could ever be capable of.

However, as much as I can love PJO as much as I do, I still find certain bits of the world building and character writing as... Very hit and miss.

To start, I don't like the way Ares was written in the series. I can understand that it would make sense for his personality to be that way, because he's the God of War and it helps with Clarisse's character development; but I find fault in it because Ares in the myths is nothing like PJO Ares. (He literally killed one of Poseidon's sons because he raped his daughter, Alcippe, and he's one of the only gods who doesn't hump anything that can breathe in air. At least Ares has the courtesy of asking for consent 💀)

The Gods being the reason behind WWII and Hitler being a child of Hades. All I must say.

The portrayal of the Aphrodite cabin

The fact that Athena can have children. Annabeth, pjo fandom at large, I love you are, but you gotta admit it must've felt weird when you first read the books and you find out Athena — the maiden Goddess of Wisdom — can have offspring. Regardless of the reasoning, I still find it weird 😭 (EDIT: I've now just remembered that it was a reference to how Athena herself was created 🤡 I'm a clown)

I get that the Hermes cabin is also the cabin for the unclaimed, but couldn't have Hestia's cabin worked too? She doesn't have offspring, sure, but it probably would've made more sense for the unclaimed to go to Hestia's cabin so that the Hermes cabin wouldn't be so crowded

This isn't really a world building issue, but I think I should bring it up: I'm not saying this against the Kane Chronicles fandom, but... Sadie and Anubis. Why. Like you can't convince me that no one WASN'T weirded out by that.

Less of a complaint and more of a question because I can't remember if the question was answered in HoO or not, but when Percy told the Gods to start claiming their unclaimed children and be more decent parents (as he should, go off king), did that request apply to the Romans at Camp Jupiter too? Because that's gotta have been confusing when the unclaimed kids at CP suddenly started getting claimed 😭😭

I could go on a whole ass tangent about PJO, but that would make this post longer than it needs to be 😭😭 and any of the points might not make much sense, since I haven't read the books in a LONG time

Off to the YA Fantasy segment... Hoo boy.

The oversaturation of Hades/Persephone retellings makes me SEETHE. Why is it always Hades and Persephone why can't it be something else 😭

I just don't like the “modern feminist” retellings of Greek myths in the YA Fantasy genre, in general. They tend to completely miss the point of the original myth, and it's the case with a lot of Hades and Persephone retellings where they try to paint Hades as the good guy taking Persephone away from her control freak mother, Demeter.

Because that wasn't what the myth was about. The myth isn't a love story, at least, not a romantic one. It was about Demeter's love for Persephone and how much she wanted her daughter back after Hades stole her away. Keep in mind, in the historical context of the myth, the daughters of women in ancient Greece never really get to see their mothers after their engagements are solidified.

If they wanted to make a “feminist” retelling of the myth, they'd have it centered around the love Demeter had for Persephone to almost doom the mortal realm to an eternal winter to get her back.

I love the myth of Hades and Persephone, truly, I do. I understand the appeal it has on people, the appeal it has one me. I can see why people adore the myth in the way they do because Hades is one of the better husbands in Greek mythology (a low bar, but my point still stands).

Personally, I blame Lore Olympus and especially the video of the myth by Overly Sarcastic Productions for the way the myth is portrayed in mass media. And I say this as a former LO fan and a fan of Overly Sarcastic Productions 😭

I'd also want to go into my many, MANY gripes about “Crown of Starlight” by Cait Corrain, but in all honesty? I don't think I can properly convey how much I DESPISE Cait and their book. So I'd highly recommend y'all to check out the videos about Cait Corrain by Reads With Rachel, WithCindy, and Xiran Jay Zhao on YouTube if you're interested in going into more detail about the controversies, especially for those who weren't made aware of it.

I feel like the publishing industry just... Isn't good anymore, after Booktok went viral. Reading has been “hot girlified”, and all Booktok seems to ask when they get recommended a book is: “Is it spicy??”

Reading is like fast fashion, now. It's all based around certain popular tropes that that's how books are promoted now. Not for the plot — or sometimes lack thereof — but for the tropes the book has.

The only thing I can thank Booktok for is that they helped me discover The Cruel Prince. And even then, it's marketed as romance on there, when it's a political fantasy with a romance subplot.

‼️ Woah! A secret bonus section! ‼️

I, personally, don't read — nor do I like — Sarah J Maas. (Especially considering the problematic aspects of her storytelling, character portrayals, and is (apparently, correct me if I'm wrong) a Zionist)

However, that isn't to say that I don't like some of the characters she makes. A lot of them have potential, actually! From what I've seen, I think Nesta, Gwyn, Azriel, Eris, Tamlin and Lucien from ACOTAR are the only characters I actually like, based on what I've heard — and seen — on anything in the SJM critical tag on this hellsite.

And while we're at it, let's discuss the elephant in the room with ACOTAR, right? Rhysand.

By all that is good and holy, I hate Rhysand so much and I think I'd hate him even more if I actually READ the books. I don't get why Booktok is so invested in him when Maas retconned Tamlin's character to make him look better as Feyre's love interest.

Also, from what I recall, didn't Rhysand sexually assault Feyre? And he didn't bother to apologize for it, and justified it with his sad tragic backstory??

I can't with y'all, istg 😭 the fact that “Feysand” is apparently a Hades and Persephone retelling too makes me even more mad about it because it isn't even a GOOD retelling. It just takes away what ACOTAR originally was— a Beauty and the Beast retelling, with Feyre and Tamlin as the leads.

Didn't Maas dedicate ACOTAR to her husband because “He would go under the mountain” for her??? BECAUSE IT CERTAINLY WASN'T RHYSAND WHO SAVED FEYRE FROM UTM, I'LL TELL YOU THAT

I think, out of all the series Maas has made thus far, Throne of Glass is the only one I ACTUALLY kind of like, based on what I've heard. Crescent City seems to be too complicated to understand, and even though I've never read it myself, I miss what ACOTAR could've been. (My hope lies with Nesta, Elucien and Gwynriel, at this point)

[ringleader-inky]

Lily Orchard is stupid but what else is new?

So recently Lily has made a challenge that is as follows:

(Keep these rules in mind)

And AntGr and CrimsonEnder made a list of 50 of those charcters. Which Lily responded to and hoo boy is it bad.

Now I'm only going to be doing several characters from this list because 1. I don't know some of these characters and 2. I can only handle so much of Lily's stupidity. So with that out of the way let's get this show on the road.

Of course you'd put N here because you didn't understand his story to begin with. N definitely does fall under number 2 because he was raised by Ghetsis. You know... THE LEADER OF TEAM PLASMA! I've said this before, but I'll say it again N essentially grew up in a cult. That's not even mentioning that in black and white 2 they show that some of Team Plasma really did think they were freeing pokemon. You see part of Team Plasma split because some followed N's ideologies and others followed Ghetsis. They have a whole safehouse in Driftveil City where they protect pokemon separated from their trainers. But yeah N's ideology was totally swept under the rug guys.

First of all, Donkey Kong was actually a villain. It was in his very first game where he kidnapped Pauleen. You know.... this one. You were probably around when it came out Lily.:

So technically Donkey Kong is qualified for this list believe it or not.

As for Dedede and Meta Knight their case is quite simple.

In Dedede's case in the game Kirby's Nightmare In Dreamland. Dedede literally breaks the Star Rod that powers the Fountain of Dreams. Which allows the people of dreamland to have dreams, but since the Star Rod no longer powers it there's no dreams. However Dedede did this because he was trying to keep Nightmare from absorbing the Fountain Of Dream's power and taking over the world. Nightmare is cosmic deity that's evil will destroy Dreamland if he got out. So in that instance Dedede does have a point. After all if the Star Rod isn't in the fountain then Nightmare won't come out and kill everyone.

As for Meta Knight's case. Well... just look at fucking Meta Knightmare. The reason why Meta Knight wants to conquer Dreamland is because Dreamland is lazy. While that might not seem like a good point, consider that Dedede is stealing food from the people and how there's some sort of cosmic threat every year or so. You kinda start to see his point a little bit. But if that doesn't work then how about in Squeak Squad where he steals the chest from Kirby and Daroach. The chest had Dark Nebula inside of it and was sealed away. Therefore having someone try and open it would be a big fucking problem.

Last but not least... Edgeworth:

Before we get into why this point is bullshit I'd like to bring up this ask:

I bring this up because it proves that Lily doesn't know what the fuck she's talking about. You see Edgeworth isn't just a state prosecutor. HE'S A CHIEF PROSECUTOR! He's not just some joe shmo. Also really, prosecutor can't be evil? May I call Manfred Von Karma to the stand:

In case you don't know. This man is a prosecutor that had a perfect record. All of his defendants were served the guilty sentence. However the only reason why they were found guilty was because he forged evidence. Meaning Manfred is responsible for putting people innocent in prison. He even went so far as to murder Edgeworth's father. And guess who was his protege?

That's right none other than Miles Edgeworth himself!

Meaning that up till Phoenix had arrived Edgeworth was doing the exact same thing Von Karma did. Granted not forging evidence, but still putting innocent people in jail because of he wanted to keep his reputation and he didn't care for justice. Therefore in the first game Edgeworth was the villain. Whether you like it or not. And because Lily never specified that the villain had to be redeemed or not Edgeworth is viable enough to be on this list. So check fucking mate Lily.

[lockandkeycake]

Ignore this post, my HoTD moots, this is going to be a long post you don't care about.

it's PJO/HoO rant time.

What can I say, Tumblr brings me back to the simpler times of 2016.

Y'all baby Frank too much. Like. Way too much.

Leo was a dick at times, no doubt. But I think y'all forget Frank was absolutely being antagonistic because he was paranoid over Leo looking like Hazel's ex. You can argue it's because Leo fired on New Rome, but Frank himself counters that claim and Leo is initially grateful Frank didn't blame him.

Frank was also the first one to bring up Sammy, not Hazel, just before that. Later, all before Leo says anything against Frank, Piper thinks Frank's behavior is because it seems like Leo and Hazel had a history. This is a longer bit of a book scene, but I feel like it gets ignored.

This is still before Leo says anything against Frank. I will be saying that a number of more times. Leo just complimented his ability and Frank responds with a pretty catty comment about Leo's physical abilities. You can see the difference in how he reacts even more clearly in a scene before, when Hazel is commenting on Frank turning into a dragon

Frank doesn't counter the idea to become a dragon, he just has an issue with leaving Hazel with Leo. Leo again, so far, isn't upset with Frank. He wants to prove he's trustworthy.

When Piper does her fun little exorcism on the lads, this happens. I have to say yet again. Leo has not insulted Frank at this point. Not a huge issue, Frank was a bit shaken up, but it was still kind of a dick move to just. Let him hit the dirt. I'll excuse it because it is very funny.

Later when they find out about Nico, this scene below happens. Leo has still not said anything against Frank at this point - Jason even agrees repeatedly with Leo, but Frank only glares at Leo.

After this, when Hazel is upset and leaves, Leo starts to likely say he should go apologize, but Frank cuts him off saying, "you've done enough."

We're a few hundred pages through the book now at this point. Frank has insulted Leo, he doesn't trust him, doesn't want Hazel around him, singles him out, and literally let him fall to the ground. Leo has not said anything against him yet.

Even Percy notes that Frank's mood is tied to his relationship with Hazel, and Leo seemingly threatening that.

(and for those who are curious - baleful means threateningly, or to wish harm)

This is when, after a good chunk into the novel, we reach Leo's first dig at Frank.

Then ~the iguana incident~ comes not long after, but if you're going to call this Leo bullying him, you'd have to include... Everyone. Since they literally all laughed at Frank turning into a lizard to get out of the finger trap. Hazel, Percy, Annabeth, everyone. Not a fun moment for Frank, I sympathize with him there, but I wouldn't personally call this pointed bullying. You may disagree but I do not think at the very least that Riordan intended it to be seen as bullying. This is followed by Leo sending Frank's dirty laundry out on Buford for awhile (though he does claim that it would be cleaned and returned to him, eventually we do learn the laundry is lost. This was not a planned thing by Leo, and I don't understand why this is characterized by some people as him purposely throwing away Frank's clothes.)

All this eventually leads to this exchange.

Gee, I don't know, Frank. Maybe because you keep glaring at him anytime you're around him to the point even Percy was like oh boy I got to get him off the ship before he folds Leo like a pretzel.

Later, Frank actually helps save Leo in eagle form, but ends up injured in the process - and drops Leo. I really don't think Frank meant to drop him, but Leo thinks Frank dropped him on purpose. That's kind of a big thing, even though it's a minor line.

Then, Frank is back to being untrusting of Leo. He's glowering, glaring, and again - doesn't want to leave Leo with Hazel.

When Hazel is alone with Leo, she finally takes the time to defend Frank.

So, clearly, Frank scares Leo.

Leo scares Frank.

It's a fun horrible little wicked web! It's almost like the author intended them to buttheads! Shocking!

I've run out of pictures to add!

I could and probably will continue this nonsense, but the general point of this rant is Frank is not just some totally sweet big guy who has never done anything wrong in his entire life, and characterizing him as such just makes him boring. He's self conscious, insecure, and lashes out at- boy, doesn't that sound familiar. Anyway.

He was kind of a dick to Leo, and Leo was kind of a dick to him in turn.

I'm pretty sure I had a better ending for this originally, that summed everything up, but now I'm distracted and just bitter they didn't kiss.

I didn't even have time to reach their interactions underwater.

[short-yandere-stories]

okay so---i read the lil fic of reader friendzoning sebastian and i saw your requests were open so here I AM-

Could I get a fanfic of Sebastian with a reader who ✨does✨ have a crush on him but ignores his advances because she happens to have a rather low self-esteem and simply "doesn't want to get the wrong idea" —if possible? if you can't either way it's cool .u.

I am so glad you're here! :D And hoo boy I can recognize myself in that for sure and this would 100% be me hands down. Also sorry for the tiiiiime this has taken meeeeee ugh life is. Annoying. Something I do know for certain, however, is that a yandere Sebastian would not stand for any low self-esteem. Especially not from someone as wonderful and perfect as you.

This can be read as a standalone thing or sort of a continuation of the last one!

Yandere is mainly at the very end because it became just so nice and soft and aaaaahh

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧ ･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

SFW, no major TW/CW, but mentions reader with low self-esteem feeling insecure and disliking themselves. :✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

"Not Good Enough for Me?"

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

"Milady, are you alright? You've been staring through that window for quite some time now." Jumping at the sudden voice, you turn around, gaze landing on the tall, elegant butler peeking in through your door. At your acknowledgment, he takes a step into your room, closing the door behind him with a soft 'click'.

"You have not moved from this spot since at least about half an hour ago. I saw you standing there while I assisted Finnian in the gardens." You look away, nervously picking at the skin around your nails. "I'm fine," you say with a forced laugh. "Just got lost in thought I guess." Slowly, Sebastian moves closer to you, making sure that you can clearly see him at any point. He closely monitors your body language, ready to stop the second he sees you flinching or turning away.

"Is it about my confession during the afternoon tea last afternoon?" He asks, hitting the nail on its head. He has to keep a chuckle in as you wince. "I meant no disrespect or harm, I can assure you," he continued. "And if I have made you uncomfortable with any of my advances, I-" "No!" You yelp, cutting him off. You snap around to finally look at him, eyes wide in a panic and hands thrown up in front of you, waving in dismissal. "I mean..." you continue in a timid tone, cheeks heating up at your outburst.

"You didn't make me uncomfortable at all, Sebastian," you say, eyes pleading with him to believe you. "It was actually really sweet and it made me extremely happy to hear. I just..." you trail off, looking down at the floor, unable to keep his gaze any longer.

"I just don't think you'd want to be with someone like me." Your voice grows increasingly quiet the longer the sentence goes on, and even Sebastian with his demonic powers and enhanced senses has to strain to catch your words.

"What?" he breathes, confusion and bewilderment etched on his face.

You turn back to face the window, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt of comfort, trying your hardest to keep the tears threatening to form at bay.

"I just... I'm nothing special. I'm not really pretty or smart... I'm clumsy and mess up, and I can't ever do anything right." Tears blur your vision as you try to keep your voice from shaking. "I don't know why you'd want to be with me," you confess, finally, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"You deserve someone better than me."

If he had a heart in the same way that humans do, Sebastian was sure that it would have shattered upon hearing those words. How had he missed your feelings in regard to yourself like this? The anger he felt aimed towards himself for missing such a crucial thing had completely blocked out the meaning of your words for a moment until they finally registered. You loved him. More than that, you'd avoided his advances and tried to push him aside not because you didn't reciprocate, but because you didn't think you were good enough.

In a flash, he's by your side, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you into his chest. Your hands weakly cling to his waistcoat, tears wetting the fabric of his shirt. "Sweetheart," he whispers, raising one gloved hand to pet your hair.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not noticing how you felt about yourself and adding to that burden," he begins, holding your crying form close. "But you're wrong. About all of it." You cry harder and try to push him away, but he doesn't budge.

"You are special. So very special to me, darling, you don't even know half of it. You have the most beautiful soul of any person I have ever met. I love every single part of you. I love the color of your eyes, the way your entire face lights up when you smile. I love your mind and the way it works. Sure, you mess up sometimes, but every human does! It has never once made me think less of you. If anything, watching you trip over nothing only makes me see you as even more endearing than before." Relaxing his hold on you enough for him to bend down and look you in the eyes, he continues. "I love everything about you, flaws and all. I wouldn't change anything about you." One of his hands wipes away a few tears from your cheek before gently cradling it in his palm.

"There is no one that could be 'better for me' than you. You're perfect in my eyes. I hope that I can make you see that too, someday," he whispers.

More tears flow down your cheeks, and for a moment, Sebastian thinks that he has done something wrong, but then your face cracks into a smile. "Do you really mean that?" you ask meekly. "Or are you just saying it to make me feel better?" Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Sebastian leans in and presses his cold lips against yours. For a moment, you're unresponsive, frozen in shock. Then, your hands grab his shoulders, and you kiss back.

The feeling of your soft, warm lips against his is something Sebastian has dreamed of for so long. He can barely believe that it's happening. Your warmth, the softness of your body pressed against him is everything he ever wanted.

Possessive thoughts flash through his mind, solidifying what he already knew. This was where you belonged. By his side, in his arms. With him, forever. He would make sure that your thoughts never hurt you ever again. No matter how many times he had to reassure you, hold you, and help push those negative feelings aside, he would.

You were finally his. You finally reciprocated his feelings, and Sebastian would be damned if he let anything -- your own thoughts included -- hurt you.

:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:

[neoninky]

So today I was binging Bridgerton cuz apparently I’m on a romantic drama spiral 😂 good ol stuffy British romances about rich people and their non-relatable problems 👍

Which has lead me to head canons surrounding a certain group of dashing young men who are basically from a historical drama…

Yes that’s right:

Diasomnia Courtship Head Canons

Featuring Lilia’s three sons (no this is not how I’m going to write them in my story-oh who am I kidding, yes it is 😂)

Tagging peeps for shenanigans: @nuitthegoddess @wysteriadelights @iscarlettappel @foxwitchaine @1ndigowitch @victoria1676

Malleus: The prince and soon-to-be king of Briar Valley, he is naturally expected to find himself a queen and future mother to his heirs. So courtship isn't something that comes as a surprise to him. In fact, it's something he was prepared for since he became old enough to understand what courtship and marriage even were.

For Malleus, this can go one of two ways: 1) if he's being forced to meet and court a some daughter of a noble family that he's not interested in, he'll be…avoidant. In other words, he out poofs away in firefly dust. Once the guards, or Silver and Sebek, OR Lilia, finally hunt him down and force him to show up, Malleus is polite. He goes through all the motions and acts like the perfect gentleman, but anyone who knows him well can see the distant, far-off look of escapism in his eyes.

OR 2) he's not only interested, he is INVESTED. Hoo boy, good luck stopping him from trying to be the only man on this girl's radar. Not only does he perform all the expected etiquette perfectly, Malleus Draconia is the epitome of "down bad". What's her favorite color? Favorite flowers? Does she like music? What's her favorite food??? This man will discover and procure all of it for her faster than lightning. Seven help him if she is (for some reason) not impressed, he'll be crushed. Seven help him if she is impressed and - dare it be so - shows appreciation and affection in return. Smitten doesn't even skim the surface, oof. Malleus Draconia needs to marry her now. His crew will have their hands full trying to help the love-struck royal not come on too strong (too late probably) or rush things too quickly. Either way, once his mind is made up, Malleus only has eyes for his queen.

Silver: Being a human raised primarily around fae folk or even half-fae folk, Silver is familiar with the range of courting rituals that various fae have performed over the years. Human courtship, on the other hand, well…he's a bit lost if not old-fashioned in that department. Mostly because of his lack of human interaction, but also because his father is Lilia. Self explanatory. He doesn't have a preference on fae women vs human/other women, though he understands that fae live far longer than humans so that might complicate things. Regardless, Silver is clumsy when wooing women (or anyone he might be interested in). He has the heart of the very best-boi boy but he can be a bit shy with showing/voicing his feelings at first.

The majority of his life has been dedicated to becoming a worthy knight for Malleus, though his school days allowed him some leisure and fun in between his training. Even so, Silver's bravery and tenacity in battle doesn't translate into romance. In fact, he often suffers from cold feet when faced with a potential crush/love interest. Silver logically knows certain things he can do to show his affection on paper. In action, however, he may need some help practice. Don't even get him started on the anxiety his sleep condition brings him. He gets so nervous about suddenly passing out in front of the girl he wants to romance that it will sometimes make him literally sick (poor guy). Once he FINALLY gets over his nerves and takes action, Silver can make his feelings known. It may be awkward but you won't find another more genuine confession from a guy who looked like he walked out of a fairy tale. Also don't be surprised if an army of woodland creatures was recruited to help out.

If rejected, Silver is nothing if not a man of honor. He sees no point in hounding a woman who isn't interested in him, no matter how much it hurts. If his feelings are reciprocated, the poor man might pass out from joy. If he prepares correctly, Silver drinks enough coffee to keep that from happening. Silver will then exhale in immense relief ask his beloved for an even more romantic date, which he spent at least three days planning out with the help of the other Diasomnia bois. Victory achieved.

Sebek: While Malleus is enthusiastic and full throttle and Silver is charmingly shy/awkward and slow to act, Sebek is somewhere in the middle. This man is and always has been very disciplined in all endeavors. For him, romance will be no different. Sebek Zigvolt has trained since childhood to be Malleus' knight. This is his greatest goal and ambition. Someday his lord will marry and have children, precious little princes and princesses! Naturally, their security and well-being are Sebek's top priority!! As such romance has been put on the back burner through the majority of Sebek's teen years.

Once Sebek sets his sights on courtship and romance, he will not settle for just anyone, no sir. He is a man with taste and standards. You know those girls who write down the traits of their ideal husbands in a list? Sebek is the male equivalent of that. It's not as shallow as it sounds, Sebek just knows what he wants. Granted he started the list when he was about 14 years old cough, so some things do change as he matures. Even so, Sebek is - like Silver - old-fashioned in romance. He knows all the moves: bringing her flowers on the first date, taking her on romantic moonlit walks while also respecting her boundaries and fighting off any hooligans that may threaten her dignity, getting her father's approval, the whole nine yards!

And boy is he prepared. He's actually quite proud - if not smug - of how much research he's put into properly courting a lady. His grandfather made sure to leave books out for him when he was young so of course he grew into an avid reader. Definitely learned a thing or two from romance novels but will not admit it out loud.

Either way, once Sebek finds his dream girl, he already has a strategy all mapped out. If one plan doesn't work, he's got backup plans. If things are going well, Sebek will not rush the courtship, but he will absolutely have the proposal and the wedding (hell, probably the honeymoon too dayum) all planned out in his head. If he somehow misses a detail, his mother and older sister will have at least five to ten different options at the ready to offer him and his lady love.

If for some reason Sebek's affections are rejected, he will put on a strong front…until he gets home/back to Malleus's castle and then he'll just fall to pieces. He's gonna need a grieving period, bless his heart. He will more than likely be a complete wreck until he gets the heartache completely out of his system.

If all goes well and Sebek does successfully get with his dream lady love, pssssh well OF COURSE he did! Was there ever any doubt?! Foolish humans, of course not! (Lies, Sebek definitely has moments of doubt that he covers up with loud outbursts and vigorous training to the point of exhaustion. Thank Seven that it did work out though, whew.)

BONUS:

Chaos ensues any time Lilia tries to make a meal to welcome his new 'daughters' to the family. The boys immediately go into covert ops to stop him from getting into the kitchen, sometimes asking their girlfriends/wives to help distract him or getting Lilia started on a story tangent about his travels, his glory days as a general, anything to keep him talking.

[daisyofwaterdeep]

🫵 I’m contributing to the problem. do NOT rush yourself queen you could answer this in June of 2036 and I’d still reblog it gleefully

en-ee-way…. another niche one for you - any of our male companions or villains reacting to a historically tomboyish/masc tav deciding to slut it up a little ? Think like… baggy boyish clothes to tight leggings and a cunty little tank top type of vibe… thigh jumpscare…. etcetera….

Since you're letting me choose who to do I decided on all the male companions, Rolan, and Gortash :3

!NSFW!

Gale: we already know his reaction to something like this (what's on your hind? LOL) which is to say, he's gonna be a stuttering, flustered, tongue-tied mess. He's not subtle at all

Wyll: he'll be far more subtle, at least to your face. If anything, his reaction is disappointing. He may ask if you have some special occasion happening, but that's all the acknowledgment he'll give. But when you leave, he's stumbling to his tent and clutching his chest and fighting for his life to will away his boner

Astarion: His thoughts are incredibly rapidfire and messy, but perhaps not in the way you would think. "Hells, I didn't know they were hiding all of that under those baggy clothes">"Fuck, I'd love to feel them up in that fit">"Listen to yourself, no better than all of the creeps you wished death on">"But I would never treat my companion that way">"Because I think of them than more than just a quick fuck">"So then what do I think of them as??">*has a breakdown because he realizes he actually has genuine feelings for you*

Halsin: The feelings he has for you are like a warmth coursing through his body. Fondness, Affection, Respect, all deep and meaningful to him. But when he sees you in that outfit, that warmth turns into a fire in him; pure, burning lust. He's shocked at his own reaction and quickly tries to put a lid on it, and thinks that he succeeds....but unbeknownst to him, you definitely notice that his hands keep making their way to your sides, your lower back. Friendly touches aren't uncommon when you chat with Halsin, but these seem heavier and linger far longer...you can practically feel the desire rolling off of him

Minsc: He'll ask you if your outfit is some sort of new fighting advantage-- does the tight and very little amount of cloth help you move on the battlefield? Is it some new type of spell-resistant armor? Does it come in miniature giant space hamster size? He has a million questions for you, so you feel sheepish when you rain on his parade and tell him that it's just a new look you're trying out. But he doesn't seem put out in the slightest-- his eyes light up and he raises a finger, "Ah, but it is still quite mighty in battle! Your enemies will be distracted by the sexiness, no?"

Gortash: He's going to be smitten, because obviously you're slutting it up for him, right? He loves the way his servants and pawns try to sneak looks at you-- it makes him far too smug, having this pretty little thing all to himself

Rolan: You think you've done something wrong with the way his lips are pursed and he refuses to even look in your direction. Tail thwipping, brow furrowed, and the terse way he responds to all of your questions and conversation starters....you're kind of at a loss as to what's got him so pissed. But he's not pissed at all-- he is so fucking flustered. He's looked at you in the past, the shape of your body when you would stretch or bend over, but being suddenly confronted with it, all at once... Hoo boy. He's tugging the front of his robes to make them more loose and trying not to ogle you, but it's a battle he knows he's going to lose

[pika-ace]

Disney Knowledge Yuu: Playful Land Edition Part 2

Part 1 here

HOO BOY! Just like GloMas, we went from 0 to 1000 REAL QUICK! And I can't believe I'm saying this...but this place is somehow WORSE than the flowers that sap away your magic...

Spoilers below!!

Fellow: Here, we can use these carriages to get around

Cater: Aww, look at the cute donkeys pulling them~

Yuu: (goes over to the donkeys) If you still remember your human life and want out, blink three times...!!! 8/

-----------------

Fellow: All of the workers are puppets to be true to the story

Yuu: Are they, Fellow?? ARE THEY?! Did they consent to this?! Do they get paid?! AND WHEN'S THE LAST TIME THEY'VE SEEN THEIR FAMILIES, HUH?!?! >8(

Ace: Dude, chill out!

------------------

Ortho: Oh! I missed my shot at billiards because a cricket was in the way; it distracted me

Yuu: (holds the cricket) JIMINY YOU GOTTA GET US OUTTA HERE-

Vil: Well, they've officially lost it...

Floyd: Hehehehehe crazy shrimpy~

-------------------

Kalim: Oh look, the Merry-Go-Round has a cricket, cat, and fish from the story! The animals were the toymaker's friends and the cricket taught the puppet!

Yuu: Thank god you guys got SOME aspects of this story right... XS

Jack: What's that supposed to mean-

----------------

Grim: Why does the puppet have ears and a tail in this attraction?

Leona: Oh, sometimes the story has regional differences. In the Sunset Savana, the puppet is a beastman

Yuu: .....Okay that's kinda neat, but still... (INTERNAL SCREAMING)

Kalim: Really, are you okay??

------------------

Fellow: When you're naughty, the magic activates; it slowly turns you into a puppet. The wood embeds in your skin and grows under your flesh sloooowly >:3

Yuu: .....There's no way this can get any worse...

Fellow: Oh, and once the transformation is complete and you can no longer move or talk or have any kind of autonomy, I'm going to be selling all of you. You'll never be seen again.

Yuu: IT'S WORSE (looks for a weapon) IT'S MUCH WORSE-

(Yeah, human trafficking wasn't on my Twisted Wonderland Bingo card but HERE WE ARE 8/)

[digital-chess]

So ragatha. What is your honest opinion on Kinger, Queenie, Pomni and the other black and white pieces?

Ragatha: Er... my uh, "opinion" on everyone? Hoo-boy! That's a loaded question, haha- Alright. Let me think... B-BUT DON'T TELL THE OTHERS I TOLD YOU THIS! Okay, White Team: Jax? Ugh. He's a jerk. Always locking himself in his Bowling Alley, painting my face on bowling pins to blow up when I annoy him, heck- he does that with EVERYONE who annoys him. He's sarcastic, dry, often cruel in his remarks, and the fact he's Kinger and Queenies "Golden Child" is crazy. He's not a bad person... but he's adamant on making me think he is one... and I still don't know why. Zooble? They're a good friend and roommate. They used to live in the Tetris game, able to make a world of their own with the hundreds of block shapes. Kind of like Legos! I remember visiting their room and seeing the world they were able to build with their expertise for turning abstract shapes into art. But then they refused to go to one of the Chess rounds one week... and Kinger punished Zooble by collapsing and destroying their world. They managed to evacuate before the application deleted, and they've been...well, living here with me at Purble Palace ever since! We get along surprisingly well. Gangle? She's so sweet and kind. I don't know what Queenie keeps blabbing on about. She's adamant that Gangle's this... callous manipulative string-puller on Black Team? That somehow Gangle is this dual-faced crocodile-teared attention seeker. She's so sweet. She's gentle, kind, soft-spoken. Black Team bullied her relentlessly and Max would threaten to hurt her if she didn't do what he said. Queenie can't understand. Abuse takes time to recover from. So I'm going to be here for her... I know what it like to feel like nothing. ...I don't want anyone to feel like that. Caine? He's been here the longest. He's my oldest friend besides... Kaufmo. He inspires us when the team has no hope, and can bring everyone together with his speeches and strategies to make us feel like there's still a chance we can win. Sometimes Queenie mocks him, saying he'd be a better fit on Black Team because of his history, but is only with us because its "his punishment". ...I don't think he deserves to be treated the way he is. He doesn't hold himself together as easily anymore. ...Sometimes I catch him mumbling nonsense to his bubble wand, as if it was alive. ...I don't know how much longer he can take Kinger's torment. I'm worried about him. Pomni? I don't know much about her yet... and I'm still struggling to decide if i even want to... And Kaufmo...? ...he was the one person in this entire world of Kinger's who deserved to be free. To get his life back. To leave this game. ...To be happy. ...I just hope he's somewhere better now. Somewhere better than here.

Aaaaaand as for Black Team? How should I know. They're all murderers, psychopaths and thieves. I sometimes would catch that Bishop of theirs sitting on the chessboard afterhours with Kaufmo. He was probably trying to manipulate our friend or... cast a spell to force Kaufmo to betray us or something! I don't know why else he'd have been so consistent to meet Kaufmo there when rounds weren't active.

[theghostsaredancing]

introduction

hi there! i’m piper mclean, daughter of aphrodite.

tristan mclean is my dad, what’re you gonna do about it?

i don’t know my sexuality but i know a bitch when i see one

annabeth is my wife percy can go die in a pit <333 /lh

people i know:

@not-annabeth -> smartest person i know and the camper of all time

@seewead-brian -> he’s certainly special

@the-gem-girl-from-the-argoii -> hazel we love you

@demi-gods-blonde-superman -> he is in fact blond superman

@proud-tree-hugger -> he is the lorax he speaks for the trees

@praetorofthebestlegion -> total badass

@zankfrang23 -> top tier canadian

@sun-girl-offical -> kayla knowles!!!!!!!

@mrmcshizzleandh-meister -> all the ladies do not love leo but don’t tell him that

@calypsoontheisland -> a lady on an island L imagine i could buy an island

@alexf1erroo -> you are styling 24/7

@cleoreadsbooks -> haven’t met her yet either

@nico-sees-dead-people -> all hail ghost king

@no-longer-lester -> a literal god???

@rackel-mackerel-dare -> plastic blue hairbrush!!!!!!!!!!!!!

@dr-flipflops -> i ship him with a certain death boy but don’t tell him that, they’re “just friends”

@quinn-is-victory - cresents partner

@cresent-solace - cresent in question

@dont-call-me-beantown -> it’s fucking rapunzel. whatre you doing here you’re a disney princess

[ ooc: this is how i interpret piper mclean! im in the middle of reading hoo, so please forgive me if there’s any mistakes. my main account is @caramel-covered-apples! dm @permetutotheworld if you’d like to join! this rp account does not support racism, transphobia, homophobia, xenophobia, and the such! ]

charmspeak will be this color because i fully intend to use it

border credits go to @vibeswithrenai!!