#and i can't get started on actually writing them

[karanseraph]

Allegedly, when my dad was young, my paternal grandmother told him "all men have a dark side." I think she meant well. She was born in the early 20th century, she came over frome Ireland on boat as a child. She had a stepfather who was from another immigrant community. Families were large. There was a lot of poverty and alcohol. They were Catholic, so they also took "original sin" as a concept seriously.

I think this did my dad harm. He actually is a person who struggles with empathy. Now, it's apparent he's neurodivergent from multiple traits he has and that this probably runs in the family, but no one we knew was diagnosed back then. He views criticism as personal attacks. It's difficult for him to see difference between people (like his difference) as positive of a challenge to accept and accommodate and instead thinks (in his darkest moments) that he's broken. Or that I also am someone who needs to be fixed.

But, somehow, I'm sure from conversations most of my siblings including my brothers voted blue and genuinely are able to care about others and will try to help.

And, to clarify, my dad has done volunteer work a d actually helped some people a lot. He is in no way evil. He's human. He is a product of his time. He was indoctrinated, arguably, by nuns, and Jesuits, and the Knights of Columbus, by bullies, and every bit of 1950's US government propaganda about scary different people and the importance of conforming and being "American". He says he didn't know that he was poor as a child because everyone was like that around him. He had a moment in the late 80s where he was arguably upper middle class. But he's also one of those older people now who don't really have wealth in the oldest sense but have pension/retirement tied up in stocks market scrap and keep mortgaging their house when they need cash.

Anyway, this is long.

But what I'm trying to say is people are flawed and human and make mistakes, but they aren't born or made evil or good. I think it's more harmful to say to kids that they have darkness or sin inside them from the start than to focus on choices going forward and the possibility that when one does make a mistake they can also make amends.

So, we should try to tell kids that.

Model good behavior and choices for kids as much as we can. Communicate that humans of all ages can make mistakes. Get rid of the concept of authoritarianism and infallibility in any individual or organization. Embrace differences. Talk about our feelings when we feel hurt by another's choices or actions so we can understand or compromise.

Just do our best and be excellent to each other.

And, specifically, for those boys some are worried about - I know lack of funds can impede this - but give them lots of room to play, give them books about all different people and experiences, take them on trips to see how real people do their work, let them engage with all the dramatic play props and costumes and clothes and dolls. Let them have building toys and action figures they choose. Let them use telescopes and microscopes to shift their perspective. Let them draw and paint and write. Let them compete and measure, without focusing on the win itself.

And let all kids do those things (but above posts were about boys).

And if there's a financial struggle to provide all this, try libraries or a device that can stream old episodes of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, or Reading Rainbow, or Sesame Street, etc.

Because, going back to my dad, he wasn't really able to model the most typical social-emotional behaviours or interactions for me, but I could see Optimus Prime or Fred Rogers interact with others.

And my brothers turned out pretty OK possibly because our dad was able to provide many books but also because he decided with my mom early on that girls could play with cars and boys could play with dolls.

And how/why he decided that when he was such a product of past generations and watches a certain news channel three or four times a day now I can't explain. But he did.

So, we know, I think, how to help kids. I worked in early childcare education for a time myself. People know how to help kids. But...there's also a struggle for any service to be profitable which means the teacher-student ratios can get stretched and that teachers can get stuck with so many assessments and standardized testing requirements that they aren't just spending time with the kids.

But we know.

And, unfortunately, there are some in the world who have differing goals. Right? Like do you want healthy men who can work together with diverse groups of people in cooperating to better the world? Or do you want obedient workers? Soldiers? Slaves?

Men themselves are not the problem. Boys aren't a problem.

It's young people growing up with divisivness and poverty and war and demand of conformity and obedience, etc.

So, probably the best we can do foe young men is to try to understand that they aren't evil by nature. Probably Patriarchy hurt them. But because of that, they don't want to admit it to themselves, because that would be weakness.

We need to keep showing them that there are places for men (again, all people need attention, but above posts were about boys and men) in the society we want.

We can say it to men we know. We can say that we really liked when they did math homework with us, or played Lego with us, or played us music we liked, or organized a tabletop game, or built us a bookcase, or cooked chicken the way we like, or taught us how to draw our eyeliner, or even expressed a desire to defend us against another man. (These are just some examples from my life, yours are likely different.)

It would be nice if we didn't also have those negative influences in the world, but we do and we can't stop them overnight or by ourselves.

So, we do our best to model and encourage the behaviours we want and to protect institutions that help like our public libraries, and to ask for policies that will (actually) improve schools.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

[watchmegetobsessed]

UNMATCHED

A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.

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Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him. 

He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot. 

He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues. 

Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always. 

Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure. 

Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him. 

“Profesor! So good to see you here!” 

And here we go. 

It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests. 

That’s when he sees her. 

Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time. 

Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them. 

She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.

From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway. 

He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace. 

And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.

“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle. 

He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her. 

The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that. 

Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced. 

“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose. 

“S-Sorry, I don’t–”

“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”

She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes. 

“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”

“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly. 

He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks. 

“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”

“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh. 

“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”

“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”

“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”

“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”

The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman. 

“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”

“I’d be happy to.”

The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads,  recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception. 

They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet. 

When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.

“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”

“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”

“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”

“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”

She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?

“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”

“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”

There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance. 

“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then… 

Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him. 

It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.

“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”

Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further. 

They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him. 

He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him. 

But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen. 

“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins. 

“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.

“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”

“Okay.”

Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.

He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts. 

Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.

“I wanted it–”

“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”

“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”

“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.

“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.

“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[tossawary]

Okay, here is selection of non-SVSSS fics that I have a fair amount of writing for already, which I currently can't pick between casually working on. I want to get at least one of them off the back-burner and OUT of my damn house sometime soon.

First: "The Princess Bride" Canon Divergence AU in which a grieving Buttercup meets Inigo before he starts working for Vizzini and before she's forced to get engaged to the Prince, just because Inigo happens to be drunkenly stumbling around Florin. A surprising amount of chaos ensues immediately, with more to follow when Westley finally gets back from pirating and discovers his True Love is both missing and wanted for murder.

Second: "Naruto" Founders-Era Canon Divergence AU, tentatively titled "On Both Your Houses", in which the warring Senju and Uchiha clans get cursed by a prehistoric demon. Tobirama and Izuna are forced to work together for the survival of their families and they both hate it the entire time. For my friend who once said that this one "Justice League: Unlimited" episode plot would be fun to inflict on these particular characters.

Third: "Merlin" (TV Show) Canon Divergence AU in which Arthur finds out about Merlin's magic by the third episode of the first season (inspired mostly by spite because I don't personally like Identity Shenanigans very much). Arthur and Merlin are forced to face threats like Nimueh's plague and the Black Knight as an actual team, while bickering the entire time, and also face the pain that Uther has caused Camelot.

I won't promise that the winning WIP here will actually get done (I definitely won't promise that all of them will get done), especially anytime soon, but I could use a boost to help my indecision here and inspire me to get a chunk of work done. I'm in a swashbuckling fantasy mood.

[watarfallar]

If I had a nickel for every time I posted an incorrect quotes dump, I'd have a lot of nickles!

BigB: What if I lied this whole time and I'm actually 18? Mumbo: BigB, stop trying to get drugs. BigB: Don't suppress my interests.

Lizzie: Oh, my God. Do you know what this is? Jimmy: It’s a book. There’s a lot of those in here, this is a library.

Tango: Don’t stay up all night, Ren. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.

Scar: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. Gem, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

Etho: Gem has no idea I’m high. Gem: You’re high? Etho: Oh, I’m sorry. Etho, leaning over to Grian: Gem has no idea I’m high.

Martyn: Why don't we just call it, "M.C. Donald's?" Scar: Because it just sounds like a stupid rapper's name. Cleo: It'd just be like- "Eyo, it's ya boy, M.C. Donald!"

Scar: What did you guys get in your yearbook? Grian: 'Prettiest Smile' Joel: 'Nicest Personality' Ren: 'Most likely to start a bar fight' Cleo: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

Impulse: I don't follow the rules. I follow dogs on social media.

Pearl: So I’m the only one around here who can clean up, huh? You can't even lift a finger? Tango: Do I get to pick the finger?

Jimmy, talking to Impulse: Well Impulse, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Gem do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. Impulse: … Gem, from the distance: They’re not wrong though!

Pearl: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

BigB: Tango, what if there are monsters? Tango: Don’t worry, we’re top of the food chain. Much later… BigB, lying awake at night: I am the monster.

Pearl: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, Gem! *Neither of them die* Gem: … Pearl: … Gem: So do you wanna talk about somethi- Pearl: No thank you.

Bdubs: Aww, what's your dog's name? Tango: Spartacus. Bdubs, yelling to Martyn: TRY SPARTACUS! Martyn, on the computer: DIDN'T WORK! Tango: Bdubs: What's your favorite number?

Scott: Don’t say a word. Impulse: Fergalicious. Scott: Impulse, I said no words. Impulse: Oh, I see how it works. Two weeks ago, we’re playing Scrabble, it’s not a word, now suddenly it is a word because it’s convenient for you.

Skizz, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Cleo: Who wants to make fifty bucks? Tango: How? Cleo: I need someone to take the fall. Tango: What did you do? Cleo: I can't tell you. Yes or no, no questions asked. Etho, from the other room: Oh my god. Cleo: ... Etho: OH MY GOD! Tango: Make it a hundred. Cleo: Deal.

Mumbo: So jellyshish- Grian, laughing: JELLYSHISH!? Mumbo: You know what I meant!

Cleo: We can't lose. Because we have this. *points to their chest* Skizz: We have heart? Cleo: Heart? No, me. I'm pointing at myself. I'm going to win this for us.

Etho: Do you even have a plan? Tango: This is the plan! I break you out, chaos, destruction, something something something, we win! Etho: Oh, of course, the old “something something something we win”. That’s a terrible plan!

Pearl: Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them? Grian: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them. Pearl: Okay yeah thanks Grian, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?

Scar: And I’d love to be sorry for that, but we all know I’ve done much, much worse.

[ultramaga]

"textwalls are actually harder to read" Absolutely. I could manage them when I was young, but the older my eyes get, the more likely I am to nope out. I used to copy and past them, then try inserting paragraphs, or even run a script to turn every full stop into full stop plus carriage return, but now I don't bother.

"Gutherie & Wigfield (2000) assert that a slow reader may lose all information about the beginning of a sentence from short-term memory before he or she has read to the end." "

Blocks of text should not be too long or too wide. When paragraphs get long, they’re harder to read because there’s less whitespace. Whitespace gives paragraphs shape, which acts like visual bearings, making it easier to find your place, and to find the start of the next line. Using more, smaller paragraphs suits web content particularly, because it lets you subtly highlight more useful phrases, by putting them in their own paragraph, or starting a new paragraph. For similar reasons, long lines (wide paragraphs) are slower and harder to read than narrower ones. Lines of around 100 characters present neat bite-size chunks of text that can easily be decoded, and also make it really easy to scan round to the start of the next line."

I had to study this stuff in web design back in the 1990s, and it stuck with me.

"Avoid the text-wall effect with spacing." If I try to read the paragraph below, I physically can't. I feel sick just glancing at it.

There's been attempts to investigate this scientifically but I haven't seen too much hard evidence. I will tell you that an easy test would be to present people who are tired information that is all in one massive chunk, and compare the results when white space is used.

Because when you are tired, or your eyesight is poor anyway - forget it, it actually seems to dance about, even if I use one eye only, and there's a feeling of motion sickness.

Do they know that reading is not mandatory? Nobody is forcing them to read?

[kaliforniahigh]

Can you write about Noah and super short reader? I'm 4'11 🥺. Maybe he walks in on reader either climbing on the counter to reach something or standing on the counter looking for a snack. He starts keeping step stools in every room.

She wears his shirts like a dress with fishnets and doc martens on the regular.

Maybe they do the tiktok trend of 'showing my dog places they've never seen' but it's you being lifted by him to see above the fridge and other high places 😂

Ok, so a good while back I wrote about this exact same thought and someone made a drawing of Noah picking reader up so she can look over the fridge, but I can't find it for the life of me :((((( Anyways, I love this concept soo much!!!

Warnings: this is just fluff!

WC: 1.4k (a shortie, like the reader)

My requests are closed for now!

Noah has walked in on you climbing on things to reach somewhere or something way too many times. He's always made a mental note to keep a little step stool for you, to avoid the risks of you falling, but he actually never got around to it.

Deep down, he knows it's because he loves helping you. Loves thinking that you can rely on him to always do this one thing for you.

But, one day, he had to draw the line. You were cleaning his room, dusting the shelves and the frames he kept on the wall. The thing is, he hung them too high for you to reach, So, without thinking twice, you rolled his computer chair to where you needed it, and stepped on top of it.

You were humming some random tune under your breath, when you heard an alarmed voice behind you.

"Are you out of your mind?"

You got startled and felt the chair start to swivel and roll to the side, making you lose balance. Before you could fall to the floor, Noah was beside you, grabbing you by the hips and landing you on the ground safely.

"Oh my God! Why did you have to scare me?", you scolded him, giving him a little slap on the shoulder, trying to regain your composure after almost faceplanting on the floor.

"Why on earth would you stand on top of a rolling computer chair?", he questioned you, voice exasperated and eyes still wide from your almost accident.

"I was trying to clean the frames", you pointed to the various frames on the wall to get your point across.

"I saw that! But you need to be more careful. God knows what would've happened of I didn't catch you", he was still agitated, and that was agitating you.

"I would've been fine! I almost fell because YOU scared me!", you gestured with your hands, voice becoming a little louder.

Noah sighed out loud, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

"Ok, maybe I shouldn't have startled you, but your idea was not the brightest", he tried to reason.

"I'm used to doing this. I've had to climb stuff my whole life to reach certain things", you turned around to resume your cleaning when Noah grabbed you by the hips.

"I'm sorry, ok? I don't mean to be a dick", he put both hands on your shoulder and started to massage them. "It's just that I worry about your well-being"

You relaxed into his touch, the tenseness leaving your body instantly.

"I know that. But the word is a very different place for someone who's 4'11''. You're 6'4'', things are way easier for you", you didn't mean to complain, but you did huff a little when you said this out of frustration.

"I know, I know", he pecked you on the lips. "I'm sorry, ok?", he looked you in the eyes, wanting you to know that he was being sincere.

"It's ok, I forgive you", you circled your arms around his middle and rested your cheek on his clothed chest. "I'm never standing on top of a rolling chair ever again".

"Not, you're not. Because I'm getting you a step stool instead", said and you whined.

"Noah, no. That's embarassing", you frowned at the ideia. You weren't a 12 year old anymore.

"What's more embarassing, a step stool, or going to the hospital, looking like a fool, because you fell from a chair?", he raised both of his eyebrows at you, as if to challenge you. You thought for a minute, but you knew he was right.

"Ok, you can get me a step stool. But it has to be foldable so I can hide it, and I won't step on it if people are watching", he smiled at your remarks, but actually impressed that you gave in so easily.

"I'll still grab things for you when I'm around", he put both hands on your back, rubbing them up and down.

"You better", you rested your head against him once again. "I'm tired of cleaning, you stressed me out. Let's go lay on the couch".

He laughed at your jab at him, but grabbed you by the hand, leading you out of the room, switching the light off and closing the door behind you.

"Let's go. I can grab you some snacks from the top shelf", you slapped him lightly on the back, as he expected, and his laugh only intensified. He couldn't see you you, but you were also sporting a big smile on your face.

"I want the Doritos"

Everything has been going well since you made your deal with Noah. The day after the almost accident, he went out and bought you the step stoll, and you've been biting your tongue to admit that it was actually a great decision.

One day, when you were laying on the couch, casually strolling on your phone, you heard Noah coming down the stairs. He was working on some songs on his computer - or that's you thought he was doing - and you usually left him alone for that.

He stood in front of you, and you looked at him over the top of your phone. He didn't say anything, but he had a smile on his face that you weren't sure if you liked. Locking you phone and dropping it on your lap, you asked:

"What?"

"I saw this trend on TikTok and I wanted to do it with you", he had an expression on his face that told you you might not like this.

"Noah, you don't even have TikTok"

"I have a TikTok", he said this a little lower, hoping you wouldn't hear it.

"You have a TikTok?"

"I do", he averted his gaze from you.

"Since when do you have a TikTok?", you asked. He was unbelivable.

"That's not important right now. Have you seen this trend where owners pick their dogs up to show them places they haven't seen before?"

"Yes, I have. It's adorable", you anwered and side-eyed him at the same time.

"I wanted to do it for you", he said and waited for your answer. You just looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Are you comparing me to a dog?", you deadpanned, and saw his expression change immediately.

"No, baby, of course not. I just thought it would be cute"

"Yeah", you hummed, as if in thought". "It would actually be cute", you agreed.

"So you'll let me do it?", he asked, but was already opening his camera app on his phone.

"Yeah, I will, But we won't post it", you said, getting uo from the couch.

"What do you want to see first?", he asked.

"The top of the fridge", you walked to the kitchen and he followed after you. You positioned yourself and Noah propped the phone on the wall behind the fridge, the phone sitting on top of it.

"Ok, so I'll grab you by the hips and lift you up", he instructed and you nodded.

He tried picking you up the first time, but you started giggling, remembering the dog videos you watched. The movent threw him off and you landed back on your feet.

"What's so funny?", he asked, looking at you.

"I'm just remembering the dog videos. They look so confused, it's so funny", you giggled once more.

"Ok, I'll try it again", he picked you up once more and you were finally able to see on top of the fridge. When you saw it though, you let out a big gasp.

"What is it?", Noah asked you.

"Oh my God, Noah. It's so dusty up in here. I need to clean this right now", you exclaimed, running your finger over the top and seeing the trail it left behind.

"You gotta show me other places right now, because our house is dirty and I didn't even know it", you said and made your way to the bathroom. "C'mon, you gotta show me the top of the bathroom's upper cabinet"

Noah didn't even know what to say, he just followed after you, with a smile on his face at how absolutely adorable you were.

So the day went by like this, him showing you the top part of places and you insisting you clean them. But he didn't let you use the step stool this time, adamant on holding you, using the excuse that he didn't go to the gym, so this was him working on his biceps.

You were more than happy to feel the tight grip of his big hands around your waist.

[burningcheese-merchant]

BurningCheese/GoldenSpice Playlist

Ok, time to stop being a bitch and post the ship playlist I keep harping on about already.

Gonna mark each song with an emoji to signify if it's meant to either be Burning Spice's POV (🔺) or Golden Cheese's (🧀). It's also going to be band/singer name first, song name second, for ease of understanding

Thank you to everyone who's reached out to me, both on here and on AO3, with song suggestions! A good chunk of these came from me myself, but a lot of people introduced me to plenty more songs that I loved and agreed suited these two perfectly. It's been fun putting a playlist together with this help, it feels like a fun group project now lol. (Hell, you guys are actually helping me think of new writing material. Music is a huge source of inspiration and creativity for me, as I'm sure you've noticed. In a way, you're all indirectly making fic requests lol)

You're all still more than welcome to keep shooting me song ideas to add, the playlist is ever-expanding! I'll just come back to this post and edit any new additions in. (This playlist is 3x longer than my PitayaFire one. I need you all to understand how big of a deal that is for me personally. I never thought I'd be this down bad for a ship besides that one. It's fucking surreal)

Some of it is meant to sound one-sided, others like it's a mutual love/relationship. I'll let you guess which is which lol. Now rock out to Evil Spice Man x Pretty Cheese Lady with me 🤘🤘🤘

Mindless Self Indulgence - Shut Me Up🔺

Fall Out Boy - I Don't Care🔺(with the Wild Spice crew as the backup singers!!!)

Mariah Carey - Obsessed 🧀

Three Days Grace - I Hate Everything About You🔺🧀

Lady Gaga - Bad Romance🔺🧀

Dead or Alive - You Spin Me Round (Like a Record)🔺

Mindless Self Indulgence - What Do They Know?🔺

Britney Spears - Toxic 🧀

Fish in a Birdcage - Rule #34🔺(this is also a great PureShadow song ngl. It's how it was first introduced to me, even lol)

Shayfer James - Filthy Habit🔺

King Gnu - SPECIALZ🔺🧀 (look up the English version of the lyrics. Very BurningCheese-core imo)

Mindless Self Indulgence - This Hurts🔺

Jack Black - Peaches🔺(shout out to the anon in my inbox who suggested this. Joke's on them, I had this on the playlist right from the start lolololololol)

Arctic Monkeys - R U Mine?🔺

Lady Gaga - Poker Face 🧀

Olly Murs (feat. Flo Rida) - Troublemaker 🧀

Rihanna - Where Have You Been🔺(fun fact: I had this playing on a loop as I wrote "Our Little Dance" to get into the Yandere Spice mindset lol)

Lady Gaga - Judas 🧀

Miike Snow - Genghis Khan🔺

The Orion Experience - Obsessed With You🔺(this song is just really funny. You can probably apply it to all Beast x Ancient ships tbh)

Nine Inch Nails - Closer🔺

Mindless Self Indulgence - 5TR82HE11🔺

Air Traffic Controller - This Is Love🔺

Bad Omens - THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND🔺🧀

Isabel LaRosa - favorite 🧀

Bloodhound Gang - The Bad Touch🔺(listen I imagined Spice singing this to Golden and just started howling with laughter, it's fucking hysterical ok)

ENHYPEN - Bite Me🔺

Scissor Sisters - I Can't Decide🔺(GC would sing a few parts tho)

5 Seconds of Summer - Teeth🔺🧀 (mostly Spice though)

Buerak - Культ Тела 🔺(look up English lyrics, very Yandere Spice coded. Thank you to the anon who suggested it)

Tom Lehrer - The Masochism Tango🔺

Lady Gaga - Disease 🧀

G-Eazy (with Halsey) - Him & I🔺🧀

Britney Spears - ...Baby One More Time🔺(imagine Spice singing this while stuck in prison. Please. He's singing and the other Beasts want to off themselves because it's so annoying and he won't stop. Please it is so funny. I have so much fun imagining this freak acting stupid-)

[thelindenpapers]

"who taught you that suffering in silence was noble, and how would you shutting up have benefited them?"

It's often something you learn when you're in an abusive or oppressive situation.

Especially long-term.

And especially if those long-term situations occur multiple times throughout life.

I grew up in an extremely racist/misogynist community.

They learned that they couldn't bully or intimidate me ...but they would pick on anyone who tried to defend me.

And that later expanded into them shunning or bullying anyone who I let on that I liked, or even worse, was crushing on.

I grew up with an abusive, fascist father.

He killed our dog. Why? Because it kept angrily and loudly barking every time he was trying to hurt Mom and me.

More than that: in my childhood community, anyone I tried to talk to would either ignore me like I was a ghost, or, shout slurs and death threats in my face. I'm talking early on in life: Before kindergarten, Kindergarten to at LEAST thru 3rd grade.

So:

You learn that anyone you like gets punished for the grevious faux pas of being liked by you.

You learn that anyone who tries to help you, gets hurt or even killed.

You learn that almost nobody comes to help when you cry for help.

You learn that even trying to talk or say 'Hi' to people, results in them suddenly appearing harmed or troubled or annoyed or angry, somehow.

...And why wouldn't I be silent?

As a feral kid, no one was going to listen to me anyway, no one was going to care how I felt about anything or about how anything was affecting me.

And if I did tell?

People frequently took the abuser's side.

Just as the cops did, the very first time I was finally old enough to threaten dad right back!

Don't even get me started on my marriage.

How long are you supposed to keep on telling a person, 'Hey, these are my needs, and I need your help to get something done about it please.

Hey, I should probably see a doctor, why aren't you letting me have access?

Hey, we really need to talk about our relationship. I don't know why you don't want to spend bonding time together.

Why are you making it so difficult for me to try to get a job or an education?

Why are you sabotaging my writing efforts?

Why do you get so upset at my physical activities?

What is with the panic when you see I'm trying to advance my tech skills?

Why does it anger you so much when I try to be proactive and vigilant in making us a comfortable and clean and helpful home?'.....

He actually complained to me:

"Why can't you just LIE?"

About being happy.

About being well.

So yeah.

Why would I want to ask his (or his parents) help in anything. I can't trust them at all.

Why would I allow someone to help if it might get them hurt or killed in the attempt?

Why would I bother to let anyone know? When, after SO many years of being stuck in a deep pit of a life, to help me would probably cause WAY more stress and take WAY more effort and resources, than any one person could possibly offer or endure?

Why would I do that?

When someone might decide to try and help, start the process -- decide partway through that it's all too much, and abandon the process: leaving me in a position that is less safe than where I started?

( Hell, sometimes that is an on-purpose thing. When a person feels bad, and knows they can't or don't want to help, but they'll make a gesture to make themselves feel good, not caring whether what they try to do is actually helpful or effective. )

And why would I tell people exactly what I'm going through, when so many around me would instead:

Victim-blame me.

Call me a liar.

Assume I was crazy.

Nod sympathetically and then use it as a way for them to feel much better about how they're doing in their own lives.

Say it's too much, say it's not so bad, or say others have it way worse.

Enjoy my explanation and my existence as a form of entertainment like I'm their personal IRL soap opera.

Or, use the information that I've given them about me as a way to hurt me further -- since they now seem to think that I'm some easy target, or that, in some twisted sense, abusing me further is somehow less morally bad, and more acceptable: because I've been abused before.....

So in their eyes, I'm 'Already soiled'?

'Already hopeless'?

'Already nothing'?

It's nothing to do with moral superiority.

It's survival.

...And I'm not saying it's right.

In an ideal situation, absolutely: being helped at any point in my life would have been great!

A healthier social structure would allow for this.

In a world where care was offered by the Community rather than by the individual, I wouldn't worry about speaking, just to find myself in worse trouble than when the 'helping' process started...

But this ain't a healthy world yet.

^^;

You asked why people feel that way.

So I've told you all the reasons why they might.

YMMV. 🤷🏾‍♀️

who taught you that suffering in silence was noble, and how would you shutting up have benefited them?

[demonslayerunhinged]

Hello!! I saw your recent post and I thought it was really interesting :3 would you mind going a little more into depth about your opinions?

Hello anon! If you're referring to the sexualization post, then sure! Loooooooong answer incoming! Also, I'm going to be using 'You' a lot, just know I'm not referring to you anon but to the imaginary morality police I'm arguing with in my head. I know I sound like a broken record at this point, but I'm writing an essay about this and I will release it, swearsies! But lemme add some tidbits from it here.

Lemme start by saying that I understand that there's a problem with how female characters are portrayed in anime and manga but in my honest opinion right now sexualization isn't really a major issue when it comes to female characters especially the ones in other popular anime/manga series like My Hero Academia(kinda), Mob Psycho 100, Jujutsu Kaisen(🙄), Attack on Titan, Hunter x Hunter, Naruto, One Punch Man, Tokyo Ghoul, Chainsaw Man, hell even One Piece!

People just throw around the word without knowing what sexualization actually is. So here's a definition:

Sexualization in media is when a character is portrayed as a sexual object and nothing more. The goal of their existence is to titillate the (male) audience. So because of that they hold no relevance, no character growth, no interesting personalities and are essentially stripped of their humanity. They're literally just objects for consumption.

A perfect example is Tamaki Kotatsu from Fire Force, who conveniently has the Lucky Lewd curse where she loses her clothes regardless of the situation. We're introduced to her boobs and the MC Shinra ogling them-who unintentionally gropes her in the next scene-before we get introduced to her as a person.

This is the first of many, many, MANY instances of her 'lucky lewd' curse. There's even not one, but two whole episodes dedicated to the various ways she'll lose her clothes when fighting enemies.

Even in her character defining arc where we get to see more of her backstory and where she is put in a life-threatening situation, her humanity is still denied and is she placed in this sexually suggestive position.

And when she is saved by Shinra because of course she is, the lucky lewd activated, and he crashes into her boobs for no reason and spends a good amount of time ogling her torn outfit I wish I was joking.

This is a serious situation btw. Like she was deadass just about to be killed. Even when she begs for mercy as one of the characters that she sees as an older brother figure attacks her so viciously it leaves her bloody and bruised that she begs for someone to save her, the camera focuses on her lips and portrays her pleads for help in an erotic light.

This was supposed to be her arc that would've not only developed her as a character but allowed us to gain more insight into her compelling backstory but no, instead she got to be a sexual object to be ogled by Shinra and the audience, even during her dire moments when she was brutalized she couldn't even have the chance to be portrayed with basic humanity as a human being. Her arc ended up being more about Shinra that it was about her. I mean, she can't even catch a break in the official art 😭.

This is what actual sexualization of a character looks like, now lets compare this to the 'sexualized' characters in KnY.

Mitsuri

The morality police like to point out her boobs bouncing, running scene and her bath scene as proof of her sexualization, but I disagree. Firstly, Mitsuri wasn't the only one that got a bath scene, Genya and Tanjiro got one too where we saw Tanjiro's bare ass on screen!

Second the running scene was gratuitous yes, but she's never groped, she's never ogled, in fact Tanjiro was more worried about her breasts spilling out than how she was dressed, and the moment was done over in like seconds, the show moves on to establish a character defining trait; her love of food. Already we see that she's humanized, we see her likes and her complaints about being ignored. There are no comments on her body and no other lingering shots of her boobs and she most definitely isn't put in sus positions like this

As for her uniform, I dunno maybe it's because I personally like wearing skimpy clothes because of sensory issues, but I don't see anything wrong with it. Her miniskirt makes sense because her fighting style relies heavily on acrobatics and flexibility, try doing acrobatics in an Amish-length skirt and let me know when you eventually eat shit and end up with a broken neck. Acrobatics are mostly done in either leotards or skintight costumes, and I don't think those were popular in Taisho Japan.

Like yea even though male gymnasts typically wear trousers so y'know their cock and balls don't slip out, a lot of them just wear short shorts.

Then her boob window, honestly come off it. Yea, when I first saw her I didn't like it, but that was because I was scared that she was going to be another fanservice character, but after reading the manga and Gaiden, it doesn't bother me anymore. I've seen some comments such as 'oh her breasts might spill out' and all, but they never do though. Do people forget that she's a fictional, 2D character???!!! Her boobs won't spill out unless the animators want it to.

We also got an explanation for the design; it was the work of the pervy designer Kakushi who's known rightfully as Scum Glasses, and Mitsuri though embarrassed just couldn't bring herself to burn or discard it, which tells us about her character and how she cherishes the hard work of others, no matter how pervy their intentions are.

None of our main characters shame her for it, even ogle her or make sexual comments about her body. Shinobu shames Scum Glasses and offers her matches to burn it, Sanemi's reaction to her embarrassment shows that he doesn't see it as a big deal and when it interfered with the wellbeing of the female slayers, his anger was directed at Scum Glasses, not the slayers.

Even Giyuu's comment in the Corps Records reads more like he's concerned for her safety, and the fact that she doesn't have scars despite her uniform is honestly impressive and a testament to her power as a Hashira.

She's one of the kindest (and frankly realest)characters in KnY-second only to Tanjiro. She was practically the only one against Tanjiro and Nezuko getting executed or punished, she accepted Nezuko without hesitation despite being a demon and treated her like a little sister, she didn't shame Genya for eating demons, in fact I don't think she noticed because all she saw was her junior who needed help.

She's not a 'sexualized female character', she's Mitsuri Kanroji. Who was literally rejected by the world for being different but instead of being bitter chose to use her literal strength to help people, who brings comfort to others with her smile and personality despite seeing so much loss and devastation, who fights and protects not out of spite or revenge or heritage but out of love and duty.

But yea sure, let's focus on her inconsequential uniform and her 10-second bath scene 🙄.

Nezuko and Daki

The main point of contention about Nezuko and Daki's 'sexualization' is because they're 'minors' which is so dumb and a whole other topic, but let's focus on their clothes. I really don't understand the complaints about Nezuko, because the majority of the time when she's not fighting she's dressed in her regular, 'modest' kimono.

What about when she's in demon mode? Oh! Her thighs are exposed when she's fighting? Yes, that tends to happen when you wear fucking skirts. Oh! Her clothes don't fit when she grows twice her size? You mean just like how the Hulk loses majority of his clothes when he grows too? Shocking that her clothes don't grow with her when she's not a fully formed demon. Shocking, I tell you!

Same with Mitsuri, there are no lingering shots of her boobs or her body because the main action is focused on her kicking ass. Go look at comments on anime sites in the episodes where she grows in size and fights, how many of them actually mention her body as opposed to her being kick-ass. The majority of Nezuko simps are simping over her as a moe character rather than a sex object. The most popular image of Nezuko is her shrunken form when she was running away from Kanao as it should because that scene was cute and funny as fuck.

For Daki, it's different, because yea she's wearing super revealing clothing, but here's my take; I don't see anything wrong with Daki's clothing. I'm sorry, but to me her outfit is iconic.

Her character design radiates power and intimidation to me rather than sexual object, and as with Nezuko and Mitsuri, despite her outfit, she never has any lingering shots on her boobs or placed in positions where she's groped and ogled, and she's never shamed by any of the characters because they're too busy trying not to get themselves killed. when I see her I'm not thinking 'heh, I can see her boobs', I'm fearing for my life and hoping she doesn't eat me! I mean look how terrifying she is in this shot.

Also, just like Mitsuri and Nezuko her humanity is never denied, when she had her head cut off by Tengen there were no suggestive shots of her body, in fact more people were shocked at her sudden cries which showed how young she was.

When she and Gyutaro are defeated, it's not portrayed in a sexually suggestive or erotic way, we're not made to see some femme fatale seductress, we're made to see an angry, bitter but ultimately hurt little girl who is spiteful at the world that rejected and abandoned her and her brother.

We see how she's had to survive, how she was brutalized and burnt for just standing up to her brother which in hindsight makes her reaction to Nezuko setting her on fire all the more heartbreaking. We see a girl who rejects 'heaven' if it means that she will be separated from her brother - the only person who was ever there for her, took care of her, comforted her and made her feel safe in a world that made them feel so rejected and so alone, the person who told her this:

If you're given all this character and backstory and all you choose to focus on is how she's dressed, then you need to check yourself and look inwards because you're the one with the problem.

The truth is, female characters are going to be sexualized regardless of what they wear, y'know just like women in real life, so how about we instead focus on making sure that they have relevance in the story, relatable backstories, character growth, rich personalities, and most of all humanity.

Sorry for the long answer anon but I hope this is okay for you, I would still post the full essay on Mitsuri eventually. Thanks for your question! ❤❤❤

[rose-of-red-lake]

I feel like the Bear is exploring how some people just aren't cut out to have "normie" romantic relationships, particularly people in obsessive, meticulous, high stakes, high pressure jobs.

Carmy started a relationship at the same time as he started a restaurant. Uncle Jimmy was right to say "uh oh:" the result is a disaster, where he ultimately decides he can't juggle both, and chooses his restaurant people (ie Syd). I was happy with this decision because hell yeah, Syd does deserve his full focus. She is busting her ass and he is out here going to parties? The injustice.

But I learned that other viewers didn't like this decision. They saw it as "unhealthy" that Carmy thinks he doesn't deserve a life outside the kitchen, and that it's a personal flaw if he can't find time for both. They want him to end the series with Claire because it would mean he's freed himself of restaurant stress.

But honestly, they are naive if they think it's that simple. Good writing (in a prestige drama) wouldn't make this choice easy, and there would be consequences. Carmy would be written to be abandoning his work family, and possibly even his sense of identity, if he made that choice. It is realistic too, considering the systemic pressures of the workers in that industry. The pressures force harsh decisions because multiple people are depending on you. In his talks with fine dining restaurant workers and chefs, Storer said they consistently said their personal lives were in shambles because the restaurant consumed them. There was no world outside of it. And ultimately, Carmy chose the restaurant. He chose Syd, not Claire.

So the demands of the job and the pressure of high-stakes business decisions really don't allow for intimate relationships. I don't think this is all on Carmy for being unable to handle it.

However, I would think that any fleeting moments of non-work, relaxing, unwinding that MIGHT happen...would happen between people who "get it."

Like calls to like.

So, maybe we will see Syd and Carmy actually execute that ask out that almost happened by the lockers?

The consequences might be harsh there too, but at least we would get some juicy workplace drama🍿

[auclairedetoru]

Hi! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to see if you could write something fluffy with Levi and a reader that’s shorter than him 🥺

Maybe something where he’s doting on them? I adore the idea of a cold Levi who’s soft for his partner and I’m part of the minority of people who is actually shorter than him lol. I see a lot of fics describing the reader as taller but not enough for the other shorties out here 🙂‍↕️

Finally. The end of the day.

Levi lets out a loud sigh as the door of his bedroom closes behind him. His head leans against it and his eyes close. After hours of training, meetings, monitoring, and doing a shit ton of paperwork, he's finally back to the comfort of his bedroom at exactly midnight.

He lifts his head back up and looks around the small space, an unfamiliar (to others at least) smile spreads on his face when his eyes land on the sleepy yet smiling person sitting on his bed.

“Welcome back home, Levi.”

God, their sweet voice makes him melt into a puddle every time. He can't believe he gets to call such a precious person his partner, he considers himself a very lucky man.

“I'm sorry I woke you up, my love.” he says gently as he takes off his jacket. They shake their head and watch him as he tries his best to take off the belts wrapped around his body as fast as possible, “it's okay, darling. I wasn't sleeping, you know I can't without you.”

Levi cups their face after he is done and leans down to press a soft kiss to their forehead. People would lose their mind if they saw the way he acts and talks to them, in fact, only the people he's closest to in the survey corps (which is very few) know about their relationship, it wouldn't even cross people's minds that the strong and stoic captain who doesn't care if he hurts anyone's feelings is dating the sweet and gentle nurse who once cried with a soldier while trying to stitch him up.

“Did you have a good day today? Any of those brats bothered you?” he caresses their soft cheeks with the pad of his thumbs, mesmerized by the way the light casts a warm glow on their face. They lean into his touch, their eyes closing in relaxation. “everything was okay. Jean and Eren even teamed up to help me carry the new supplies stock and put them on the high shelves for me.”

He chuckles softly and pulls away from them so he can quickly change into more comfortable clothes. He used to sleep in his uniform, belts and all, just in case something happens and he couldn't waste his time putting everything back on, most of the nights he didn't sleep to begin with, but ever since they started sharing the same bed, not only did he find himself falling asleep but he also invested in some soft night clothes so he can cuddle with them without any restrictions.

“Still refusing to use the stool I got you?” he smirks as he starts changing his clothes. They've been dating long enough for them to not care about being naked in front of the other.

“I don't need it! The boxes were just heavy!”

“Hmm, sure you don't,” he teases as he gets under the blanket on his side of the bed (which is obviously the one on the near the bedroom door) and pats his lap with two hands. They huff, followed by a small, almost inaudible "I'm not that short", yet they don't hesitate to straddle his thighs and nuzzle their face in his warm chest. He wraps his arms around their body and presses a kiss on top of their head.

“if you weren't so short you wouldn't be able to fit in my arms all snuggly,” he looks down at their face and smiles at the adorable sight of their cheek pressed firmly on his chest, probably so they're able to hear his heart beat, they told him before that it's their favourite sound, “look at you, you could fit in my pocket, I could take you everywhere with me.”

They look up at him with the sweetest look on their face, their pretty eyes soft and affectionate. He wishes he could freeze this moment and stay like this forever, no titans, no fighting, no heartbreak, just him relaxing with his beloved in his arms.

“Can I stay in your heart instead? I think I'll like it there more.”

Levi lets out a shaky sigh. He's not one to get emotional, he can't even remember the last time he cried because it's been so long, but at that moment he feels a tug at his heart strings and a lump form in his throat. He never thought he'd ever have someone who loves him unconditionally, who would stay up till the late hours waiting for him because they want him to be the last thing they see before they close their eyes, whose presence felt the closest to what he heard others describe as home, who looked past the walls he has up and saw someone worth all their patience.

“You know I can't have you stay anywhere else. I love you more than I've ever loved anything in my life.”

“More than tea?” they teasingly raise an eyebrow making him chuckle.

"Yes, my love. More than tea," he replies, gently brushing a strand of hair away from their eyes.

“More than cleaning?”

"now I don't know about that...”

“hey!”

Levi laughs loudly, a deep and hearty sound he never imagined would come from him before he met them. Their melodic giggles join his, filling the air with a positive energy he only experiences around them. At that moment, he feels his heart fill with a great amount of happiness, a feeling he always thought he didn't need, but now can never live without, and it makes him realise that he is now complete.

In the past, he thought that when he'd feel complete he would let go of everything, even life itself. But now, the thought of being separated from the love of his life terrifies him, and for the first time, he wants nothing more than to continue living and breathing, even if it means fighting those ugly monsters every single day.

Is life easy right now? No, Eren Jeager is still a big pain in his ass, and the whole situation with the titans keeps getting worse and worse, but now he gets to come home to moments like these, and they simply make everything better.

I lost the plot and didn't make this very focused on short!reader but it's there nonetheless! I love soft Levi who's a totally different person around his love 💕

[cat-stuck-in-a-tree]

Thank you @penguinsfly for the delightfully (albeit painfully) on-point discussion.

I'm gonna jump in here to elaborate on the 'but it does affect aromantic and asexual people keep it in mind' part of this because I'm seeing some understandable confusion on just how/why that's a thing.

Most of the time, fandom gets to be happily seperate from the rest of life. And that's great--its part of why people like it. You write what you want, how you want. If someone disagrees or dislike it, the rule is they can leave. Don't like? Don't read, don't interact, use the filters. I think we all get this, and get that most of the time its the best and most respectful course of action for everyone.

But here's the thing.

This rule works the vast majority of the time because most fanworks do not run the risk of negetively affecting real people's welbeing in the real world.

Why?

Most fanworks are based on characters who, while unique and very cool in their own ways, are very demographically bland. So you get to start with a relatively blank, not-likely-to-upset-anyone-if-changed charater and then the fandom gets to have at and make things more different in whatever ways they so choose. By their own consensus.

So fanworks usually give diversity instead of taking it. Giving more diversity isn't somethig that hurts people. And the base characters are so overrepresented and similar that its essentially impossible to take their diversity enough to cause harm.

Under these conditions, the 'don't like don't interact' rule works.

Still with me? Now buckle up.

There are --very rarely-- times where what you choose to create in fanfiction can hurt real people, outside of fanfiction. This happens when fanfication takes more diverse charaters and erases the traits that make them more diverse in an instance where those traits are real traits that belong to real people. (Read: you can safely un-werewolf as many characters as you want. But erasing cannon things like ethnic identity, disabilities, or minority sexualities not nearly as innocent as creating them).

Remember-- the fact that a traits is rare and not usually seen in any cannon means that the people with that trait are experiencing real world eraser and being told on a culturally significant level that their traits are undesirable and would, ideally, not exist.

Ergo, if you for whatever reason take a character representing the traits of a real miority and chose to get rid of those traits, from the perspective of that minoriy, you are doing the same thing and telling them they are unwanted and should not exist.

Again: Changing the traits of culturally accepted characters is fine. But you can't change the traits of a cultually erased character or any rare minority to be more mainstream (including mainstream in fanwork), without your actions telling real people experiancing oppression that you would prefer they didn't exist, either.

Okay, but why do my actions have to impact them? Especially when they still have the cannon charater?

Okay, look. You exist and the things you put out into the world exist.

If someone who has lived with significant parts of who they are being completely ignored and isolated from representation for most or likely all of their life hears that there is a character like them who they might actually be able to relate to, they are going to take whatever courage they have to risk being terribly dissapointed, and they will go find that character. And because there will not be anywhere near enough mainstream representation, no matter how good those few seconds are (literal seconds, usually) they will go looking for fanworks as their next step. If not the first because lets be honest, fan rep is usually way better than mainstream.

The hope, of course, is that the majority of the fandom will recognize and accepted the charater's culturally outcasted traits, and take it as an important part of their core characterazation. Just like it is to real people with those traits.

But here's the thing--what if they didn't. What if instead you come the the fandom and find that that trait--a core trait of that charater's being and your existance, identiy, and experiance of the world-- is being intentionally shunned and erased by almost everyone.

There's no way that's not going to hurt. And there's no way that's not going to impact your experience of your identity as a person and as they fit into the world. In this instance, fanworks being fanworks doesn't protect from harm. It actually makes it worse becuse its real people as a collective are choosing to erase you and not a big corrperation trying to make money.

If you have a character who you want to make fanwork of, and they have a trait that real people are oppressed for, or is in any way underrepresented, stop and consider how you would feel if you were someone with that trait, who came across a work that had erased it. Then consider why you want to erase it in the first place.

This is what's upseting aroace and sex-repulsed people about fan portrails of Alaster. Not because of people making or not making any specific work, but because of the collective message those works sends to the people who identify with cannon Alastor's sexuality.

Case in point: I went to check out AO3 because aroace sex-repulsed rep. And unholy mother of toadstools.

Look, the evidence isn't subtle that Alaster is much more likely to be a sex-repulsed asexual than any other identity. Anyone on the hell no side of intrinsic willingness to have sex can recognize that discomfort. And yeah, some people are going to want to explore other kinds of being ace, not being ace or aro, etc. But 'some' and 'literally the vast majority' are different things. Further, two thirds of the people aware of sex-repulsed asexuals people activily choosing not to accept that identity, even when--again-- it fits best at this point-- that's not a great message to send to the people about their sexuality. Or, y'know. Existance in the world.

Even in the asexual community, being aroace, asexual, or sex-repulsed (alone or all together) are extremely isolating and underrepresented experiences, and its incredibly difficult to find any representation (Alaster is the only one I know that seems to get it right even given how little its refrenced). Surfice to say its a bit disturbing to look up the closest description you have of your sexuality and find that its largly being erased. Not surprising. But. Out of 22,519 works only 4,790 tag Alaster as asexual (which is great ace rep, but not great considering over 3/4ths of the content ignore it (or at least didn't tag).

But here's the really troubling part: For a character who is most likely sex-repulsed (and is cannon ace, likly aro, and absolutely not shown in any way to want sex), just under 300 works, total acknoledge that. Out of over 20,000. Add aroace and get rid of clearly explicit content and...84 works total on AO3. (aroace without being sex-repulsed is also 84)

Total works:

Works tagged Asexual:

Works tagged Sex-repulsed and Aroace

I'm under the impression that very, very few people are at the far 'black' end of the ace spectrum, are sex-repulsed by nature, or are those things and aromantic. Even within the ace community, it can feel isolating and far outside the norm. And frankly, 84 works is still pretty exciting considering the usual zero.

I'm not saying we should have more works or less works. It seems much better to be greatful for what we have.

And at the same time, it does illustrate the point that's worth reflecting on.

Additionally...here's the bigger, much more disturbing example:

That's a pretty blunt 'we'd rather you not exist'. Especially counting the numbers. Also, weirdly specific. Why so much interest in denounceing a lable for an identity thats...almost never acknoledged or represented in the first place. Roughly 2,000 versus 200. And over half of that 200 is not of the sort of work sex-repulsed aces typically enjoy reading so. There's that, too.

This leads to another part of this that's got aro and ace feathers ruffled: Bad Ace rep. (Aro and not). The good news i there's also a decent amount of great ace rep! Bad news is the vast majority…isn't.

Listen, er all know there's a lot of ways to do ace rep because there's a lot of ways to be on the ace spectrum, and a good few to be asexual as well. But a component of being anything ace, is that sex et al. can be happily done without most to all of the time. Plus being asexual is a wildly different experience than being allo because of all the ways sexual stuff is tied into cultures and gender and other identiy stuff. Its really not the same experince as being allo, give or take sex. So if the point of the plot is and tags is primaritly 'how to get the ace charater to do sex while still saying they're ace' consider just not. At least that way folks can filter properly.

Especially for sex-repulsed people, ignoring or erasing a sex-repulsed charater's signs of discomfort around sex because you want to make things sexual and think its harmless...tends not to go over well. It runs too close to real life.

Look, I'm aware that if there's a term to unite fandom its probably incoragable --and that that's genrally something to be proud of-- and I think we all understand that people will be people and will keep up creating wildly not-in-character charaters--but l hope this helps more people understand the reasons discussions about Alastor's portrale in fandom keeps being brought up by extreemly ruffled aroaces, and that there are, perhapse, reasons its not always great to erase a queer minority character's representation in favor of turning them the fandom version of straight.

Hope this helps

I unfortunately saw something I didn't want to see and that was my last straw. I'm fucking doing this.

Let's establish this first. Alastor is stated in the show to be asexual that is not up to discussion. He is also very heavily implied in the same conversation to be aromatic. 'An Ace in the hole' being used in context of him being with Charlie is also implying his aromanticism.

VIDEO

If that's not enough then here is Viv speaking about his romantic orientation. It's pretty clear despite the fact that afterwards she said it's okay to headcanon whatever (it's not but I will get o that later) that he is written purely as an aro ace character.

On top of that going by Alastor's interaction with Angel from the pilot and the first episode it is clear that he is sex repulsed. Not only that but on the fandom website he is stated to be touch averse with two sources which you can check out on the website.

Hazbin hotel wiki, Alastor page

Now we established that Alastor is canonically Asexual, Aromantic, Sex Repulsed and Touch Averse

As I also am all of the above I'll try to explain everything to the best of my ability as simply as I can.

Aromanticism and Asexuality.

I'm probably targeting the audience that knows those terms but regardless I will explain it anyway.

Aromantic - people that experience little to no romantic attraction towards any gender

Asexual - people that experience little to no sexual attraction towards any gender.

Little to no

Asexuality and aromanticism are spectrums in which people can feel certain attractions towards people but those attractions are less occurring or are defined by personal connection.

Diagram from AVEN website

However some people are at the end of the spectrum, they never felt attraction and that's valid. Alastor was stated to be aroace he wasn't written as demi or as gray he was written as aroace as in the end of the spectrum. His repulsion and not giving shit about romance or sex speaks for itself.

Representation

I do understand that everyone wants to be represented but it's so important to understand that aroace people are one of the most underrepresented queer groups in the media.

And I'm not here to scream about how I want my fav character to be just like me I don't care for it I'm way too confident in my orientation to rely on that however I'm tired of explaining to people what asexuality and aromanticism is just to receive 'are you sure' or 'you'll change your mind' or 'its not real' or the community favourite 'you'll find the right person' no I won't I'm not looking thank you very much (I just smile and nod to be polite and I'm sick of it).

'Harmless' buts like: 'He might be on the spectrum', 'AroAce people can still feel attraction' hurt the final outcome for all the people on the spectrum not only strictly aroaces because it allows people to write one shots with 'Demi Alastor' that falls in love in 2000 words because he is 'demi' (spoiler alert: they don't understand what that label means). It's just a cover, an opening, sneaky way to disregard his orientation, feel good about themselves and move on. Newsflash there is no moving on for aroace people it's our life.

Shipping

Shipping is just harmless fun right? Usually yes but not in this case. In the same way its not okay to ship gay characters with genders they are not attracted to.

It's erasure and since there is much less people identifying on aro/ace spectrums then there is gay or bi people our voices are being silenced. Not to mention that gay people received support from entire LGBTQIA+ community over the years in contrast to aro/ace specs who to this day are told that we are 'not queer enough' or 'not oppressed enough' often by other queer people.

And finally... FINALLY we get cannon Aro/Ace character that is clearly not interested in romance and sex. Character that beats stereotypes of boring and timid aro/ace people and what's the first people do? They ship him. Alastor's storyline provides so many points to be explored like 'what is his backstory', ' what's about his deal', ' how does he fit in in the found family trope' , 'does he care about hotel guests' yet people choose to write about the only thing that he is not interested in. As a heavily repulsed person that used to be horrified about the fact that I'll have to fall in love with somebody at some point before I found out what aro/ace is I find it repulsive and trust me he would too.

But Viv said it's okay!

Its the same point once again. What if Viv said that it's okay to ship gay Angel with woman. She doesn't have authority to say shit like that.

Queerplatonic relationships

I can't tell you not to do it I don't think he would be necessary interested in it but for fuck sake do your research and try to understand what queerplatonic means before you use it as a cover to shamelessly ship him. Respect the fact that he is sex repulsed and touch averse and you're fine.

Why can't you just avoid it?

First of all I shouldn't have to. Alastor's orientation should be respected in the fandom like any other orientation is. Second of all I've tried. I tried to only look up AroAce Alastor tag I've blocked over 80 people on tumblr alone (I just counted) to avoid to see anything that could trigger me and I'm not talking about slightly shippy posts or fanarts I'm talking about full blown disregard towards his orientation. Guess what it didn't work!

Archive of our own where do I start. I've used this website for over a decade and I could probably count days I didn't go there on my fingers. I'm fluent in AO3 I know which tags I should block. I know how to skim thorough the summary and tags to see if I'm interested. I've seen shit I'm a shipper I've been on ao3 for ten years but never had to mentally prepare myself to face queerphobia as I click on the tab.

Just use aro/ace Alastor tag.

I do and let me tell you people can't tag for shit or they just pretend to be clueless at this point. Besides see this?

there is more ff with Alastor/reader (disgusting) than there is Alastor with his canon orientation and to play the devils advocate for arophobic people there is more Angel/Alastor then his stated in the show sexuality. I understand that fandom goes back before the show was aired but Viv confirmed his orientation back then too.

Summary

I could go on and on bout different issues and maybe I will in the future but I'm not wasting anymore of this weekend on it. I'm ready to answer any questions as long as they are respectful.

I'm aware that he is a fictional character, it doesn't affect him in any way whatsoever but it does affect aromantic and asexual people keep it in mind.

If there are any mistakes grammar related I'm not sorry I'm fluent in English (not my first language) but I took 3h nap in between and I'm sleep deprived.

Have a nice day.

[lilium-dell]

RANDOM MOUTHWASHING HEADCANNONS

This is going to be a long post...I apologise in advance.

And english isn't my first language, I apologise for any mistakes! (´；ω；`)

Captain Curly (pre-crash)

Used to be a rebel as a teen, have bad grades, drink, all the stuff. Because of that, he gave himself piercings and some hand poked tattoos.

He still has some scars from said piercings and hides the badly done tattoos he did at the ripe age of 16.

Hates science fiction movies. He thinks that they are super unrealistic and will spend the entire time criticizing them.

Loves romcoms tho.

Secretly loves punk music, the only thing left from his rebellious phase.

Works out as much as he can. He's sad? Goes to the gym. He's happy? Gym. He's stressed? Gym.

When he goes to the Tulpar, he always brings some weights so he can lift before bed/after he wakes up.

Gives the best hugs. You can't tell me this man will not bear hug you until you feel better.

Wanted to be a psychologist before studying to be a pilot, yet he gave up because he was too much of a people pleaser.

His favorite animal is bears, grizzly ones to be exact.

Captain Curly (after crash)

Spends the days thinking on what he could've done to make things different.

After he gets rescued from the cryogenic pod, he can't help but feel survivors guilt. All his crew was dead, except for the captain that should've gone down with the ship first.

After he gets his prosthetics, it takes him a while to get used to them and feels some phantom pain on the stumps of his arms and legs once in a while.

He regularly writes to his fallen crew members as if they are still alive. It helps him cope.

He also stayed in touch with the families of his fallen crew. Curly always apologizes for their death.

Anya

Left her cat on earth and the last words she said to him was "When I come back, I'll buy you wet food", as she would always buy treats for her cat after every excursion.

Her favorite thing to do on earth was to read with her cat on her lap and some tea.

Is a only child but always had pets throught her childhood.

Is a bad loser, everytime she loses at the game nights on board of the Tulpar she goes on a raging fit. Doesn't really hide it.

The only time the crew have seen her mad is when she loses at games.

Used to do combat sports as a teenager. Seeing the wounds of the people she trained with made her want to pursue medicine.

Is a really good driver. Just road rages a bit.

Wears contacts.

Her last thought on the medical bay was about her cat and how much he would miss her.

Daisuke

Loves shooting and RPG games.

Fluent in English and Japanese. Speaks mostly in japanese at home with his parents.

Has a younger sister. He used to let her do makeup on him when they were both younger.

Used to be a popular kid but never really had a girlfriend.

HUGE fantasy nerd.

He's actually a very smart kid, used to be an honor student.

Tried to teach Swansea about Pokemon and Kingdom Hearts lore on their lunch breaks. Swansea tried to understand.

Helps Anya take care of Curly, even if he doesn't have any medical experience.

Tried smoking once, started wheezing and gave up immediatelly.

Ties his hair when he needs to be super focused.

His playlist goes from Tyler the Creator to Lady Gaga to Bach in a click. The playlist is called Whiplash.

Swansea

Dog person. He definitely loves big dogs.

Sees the entire crew almost like family and takes care of them like family.

Listens to dad rock/country while reading the newspaper to relax.

He has a picture of his kids next to his bed. Unfortunately, everything got destroyed in the crash.

Was the one who brought the tabletop games for the crew. He's a huge tabletop games fan.

Girldad. He definitely spoiled his kids as much as he could.

Huge sports fan. Specially soccer.

Jimbabwe (I'm sorry)

Smokes two packs of cigarettes a day. Rothmans to be more specific.

He has a narcissistic disorder.

When he was a kid he used to torment his siblings.

Met Curry when training to be a pilot and got extremely jealous and spiteful when Curry got promoted instead of him.

Hates when Daisuke calls him every name under the sun except his. (Ex. Jimbo, Ji-man, Jimin, Jin).

Had an obsession with American Psycho as a teenager.

He was an edgy teenager.

I have so many headcannons but if I put them all here, the post would be gigantic...

[dark-dragon-8]

I want to write a supernatural fic where Sam still hunts while in college.

Like, hunting has always been such a big part of his life that he just can't live without it, especially when he knows other people are going to die and/or suffer if he doesn't help them.

I want Sam to be one of those students that you know never goes to any of the classes but almost always gets an A (or at the very least a passing grade) on all the exams/assignments (he both knows from experience and studies in his free time while on the road).

I want Sam to be the weird/cool guy at school that everyone theorizes about ["Do you think he has a girlfriend?" "He must be rich or something, how else can he afford to travel so much while still attending school" (he's not BTW) "I wonder who that guy that always drives him to and from classes/exams is" (that's Dean) "So he's a passenger princess" (they've never seen him drive), etc].

Everything about the show is the same (I might keep Jess alive though, IDK, like that girl who ends up having a crush on him so she's looking into him and finds out some stuff) except he's still in school and he & Dean always cover their faces/only Dean impersonates people (that work with the state/law & stuff) so that the authorities won't be able to connect things too quickly and ambush them while there's a test or something.

Sam is literally the cryptid of the school after getting his powers, like people literally see him get visions/mumble about future events in the middle of those rare lessons he comes to/exams/assignments.

After Dean becomes a demon, people start thinking he's his drug dealer and that they're a part of some Mafia group that needs a new lawyer/future new lawyer (hence why Sam is learning law) after they keep hearing hushed conversations where Sam practically begs this Dean guy to "Just please give it to me, please Dean I don't think I can take it much longer" (assuming "it" probably means like heroin or some other type of drug. Also how they finally found out Dean's name) and Dean begrudgingly handing him a small red vial and telling him he'll give him more, sometimes directly from the source (his wrist), later. Sam also starts bringing a second, smaller, steel water bottle to school after those interactions start but almost nobody notices (or they do and there are a thousand and one new conspiracies about it and what it means, after all, it could just be coffee for all they know, they can't be sure though, and they're too scared to ask whenever they do see him and he actually stays in school for a little longer instead of instantly leaving to go somewhere. So they don't really get the chance to ask him even if they want to).

They see him "give a random girl hickeys" in the alley right beside the school (he's actually drinking Ruby's blood after she got her throat slashed/slashed her own throat just a little bit so that they won't look too suspicious) and they think that's his GF. And then some other students see him doing the same to his drug dealer's (Dean's) wrist a few days later and they don't know what to think anymore [he was desperate (read; needed a boost before a stressful exam/lesson/finals week), okay? He wasn't thinking straight and all three thought it was at least somewhat okay as long as they were being careful].

One day, during a lesson because the others know he won't answer during an exam, Bobby (because he still isn't talking to John, fuck you John) is calling him, saying it's an emergency and that they need him there ASAP. He doesn't remember to control his reaction in front of the class and now everyone further believes that he's in the Mafia and that was his boss talking to him [they vaguely remember hearing him, quietly whisper, if they need him to bring his extra guns at the start of the conversation/if he needs to kill someone/if anybody died towards the end of it (all said somewhat casually, considering the situation, mind you)].

I imagine Gabriel coming over to fuck with him one day at the school and people thinking he's part of a rival group/family (that may or may not have joined Sam's own after betraying said family, depending on the timeline) based on their interactions. On that same note, I want Castiel to be like the boss's right hand/messenger and that their boss's name/title is God/the lord (if I was in that situation, I would think their boss is very narcissistic, but I won't say anything about it because crime and I don't want to die yet). And then when Godstiel comes around, Dean, who at this point knows way more than Sam about these rumors (because unlike Sam he's actually been around), makes him seem like their new boss (he might just use it to help him get laid, like in that one episode, but IDK).

I really want to write it, and I might just do it, I just need to finish the series first so that I'll be characterizing them correctly (these are all characters I already somewhat know about/saw) so we'll see if I remember it by then.

Feel free to use this idea but also I want credit/link to the story (mainly a link) if you do use it, since I want to read it regardless of whether or not I actually write this (knowing myself, I probably will. Like 78% will).

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Can i ask for insecure reader x Donna?? Maybe before reader met Donna, the girls in the village teased her about her looks because they were jealous of her beauty. Reader can't believe that someone like Donna would like her. She notices that the reader cries every night and can't stand the sight of it so confronts reader.

Can it be a smut???

Yesss!!!! Thank you for request!!! I hope you like and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

P.S: To the anon who made a question to me yesterday. I'm sorry, I deleted your question by mistake but I remember it so:

To the question "what does G!P mean?" Well, I know it's not well written, yk, maybe GP! (girl penis) sounds more familiar to you.

Idk why I always write it like this. I made a mistake once but I didn't fix it. I guess I like it that way, like my own style or smth. I hope I've solved you doubt, take care of yourself!!!

Beautiful?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, fluff, angst, hurt and comfort, hurtful mockery

Word count: 8,162

Summary: You've started to think they were always right about your ugliness

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Hey, (Y/N),” you heard.

Behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder, was a young man you knew, one who always smiled when he saw you.

“H-Hi, Ivan,” you said with a shy smile, turning around. “Aren't you with your friends?”

“Well, I saw you pass by and I was wondering if…” the boy said, scratching the back of his neck. “Um… Have you tried Mrs. Grescu's apples?”

You smiled, shaking your head.

It had been a long time since someone approached you to talk and you weren't stupid, in that shy smile there was more than the innocent intention of spending time with you. Having some boy approach you was strange enough to notice that you weren't really interested.

“Not really,” you said with a friendly smile.

“Well, then you won't have any problem in…”

“Oh, Ivan, I was looking for you,” a girl who appeared from the shadows interrupted the boy, drawing your attention.

You had tried to stay away from her, from her and her friends, but, apparently, it hadn't been possible.

“Miriam?” he asked, frowning after the sudden approach of the young woman. “I was talking to…”

“Hey, aren't you bored? The party is over there,” she said, hanging on to the boy's arm, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“No, it's just that…” he stammered, being dragged by the girl while you stood, completely ignored in that remote corner.

“Hey, he was talking to me!” you protested, not because you actually liked that the boy seemed interested, you really didn't, but because you knew the way that girl acted.

“Surely the lack of light has confused him, hasn't it, handsome?” Miriam joked, blinking seductively, leaving the villager speechless and with a silly smile.

“Um... well, if you say so...” he murmured, looking at you for the last time before disappearing, leaving you, once again, alone.

You sighed and sat down on an old bench. That the meeting had been short shouldn't surprise you, they all were, thanks to them.

“Oh, wow, poor (Y/N),” a cocky voice startled you and your body began to shake.

Two girls appeared out of nowhere, pretending to pout. They weren't friends of yours, but they were acquaintances, unfortunately.

“Leave me alone,” you whispered, frowning and crossing your arms.

Trying to escape was already difficult enough, as they seemed to want to corner you.

“Are you enjoying your solitude?” one of them said with a sinister smile. “Well, I shouldn't be surprised that you like dark places, right, Alicia?”

“It's true, this place is made for you, (Y/N),” the other girl said, resting her arm on your shoulder mockingly. “A dark place, where no one can see you…”

“Why don't you just go away?” you asked, removing the hand and getting up from the bench. “Don't you have anything better to do?”

Alicia pushed on your shoulder, forcing you to sit back down among unpleasant laughs.

“Shhh, where do you think you're going?” she threatened, looking at her friend. “Do you think we like being here? No, (Y/N), we're doing altruistic work, right, Olga?”

“Yes, it's true,” her friend said, sitting next to you with a disgusted look. “Have you seen what time it is? There are still children on the streets and instead of having fun, we have to watch you.”

“That's good,” you whispered, starting to get nervous.

No, not again.

“If we let you go with the rest of the decent people, you could cause them a trauma,” Olga said. “With that face you could make even the lycans flee.”

You should have protested, been enraged by that insult, but you were used to it, too used to it.

“Well, Ivan isn't a lycan and he wanted to go for a walk with me,” you said with dark eyes, looking towards the snowy ground, trying, pathetically, to say something in your defense.

“Of course, because he can't see you well,” Alicia said, sighing and running a hand over your shoulders. “As soon as the light illuminated your shitty face, he would surely run away.”

“P-Please, leave me alone,” you stammered, with tears in your eyes, unable to escape from that horribly common situation.

“Please, please…” the girls mocked, pretending to pout. “Oh, are you going to cry?”

“She's going to cry,” Alicia mocked. “Spare us the suffering, (Y/N). I don't want to have nightmares.”

“Hey, come on Alicia, it's not okay to laugh at (Y/N), she has to look herself in the mirror every day,” the girl commented while you made an effort to keep the tears in your eyes.

“It's true...” she whispered, rolling her eyes. “Although I doubt she has mirrors in her house. What for?”

“Well, for her parents and...” the other girl commented, putting a hand on her lips. “Oh, sorry, you don't have parents, do you?”

You, wishing the ground would swallow you up, shook your head, starting to sob.

“Olga, don't be cruel,” Alicia said, getting up from the bench and gently hitting her friend. “What would you do if you had a daughter like her?”

“I would have probably wanted to die,” the girl replied cruelly. “What a shame...”

“Enough!” you shrieked, clenching your fists and abruptly. “Leave me alone!”

“Don't shout, stupid, your voice destroys my ears,” Alicia joked, covering her ears comically.

“Jeez... even her voice is horrible,” Olga protested while you began to tremble, letting the tears fall into the snow. “She's crying again, you're pathetic, (Y/N).”

“Pathetic and ugly,” the other added, nodding with her arms crossed. “Hey, do us a favor and go to your lair, monster.”

“Hey, look,” one of the girls said, hitting her friend's shoulder and pointing at something with her head.

The two looked at each other and gave you another mocking smile before moving away from you.

“Anyway… have fun, ugly,” they joked, walking away from you.

The silence was a relief, only broken by your sobs. Teasing had always been in your life. That trio of witches had always enjoyed torturing you, insulting you, and making you think that everything they said… was real. You could never understand what you had done to deserve those insults, to deserve the constant mockery that made your life a hell.

No matter how much you wanted to get away from them, even from the village itself. That was impossible. In that lost place, guarded by the Black Gods, there was no escape.

“Hello,” an unknown voice startled you, waking you up from that nightmare, from those tremors and tears.

You looked to one side, to the other… Nothing, you saw nothing. You thought that maybe you had gone crazy, that all the suffering was starting to take its toll on you, but that wasn’t the case. You looked down and couldn’t help but step back.

On the ground, illuminated by the dim light of a street lamp, was what at first seemed to be a girl, but in reality wasn’t.

Of course you were no stranger to the Lords or to Mother Miranda. Everyone in the village respected and feared them. You knew that figure, that sinister and almost dark smile: the Angie doll, inseparable companion of one of the four guardians of the village, of the youngest Lord: Donna Beneviento.

For a moment you thought about running away, but you froze. Of course, having a Lord so close, or well, part of one, wasn’t a good sign.

“What are you doing? Help me up,” the doll said, gesturing for you to sit her on the bench.

 Afraid of the consequences of not doing so, you grabbed the puppet with a hesitant gesture and followed her order.

“That's it, well done, villager.”

“M-M-Miss Angie,” you murmured, wiping away your tears and lowering your head in a gesture of respect. “What are you doing here?”

“My Donna and I don't like crowds,” the doll answered, watching you from very close. “Hey, silly, silly, are you crying? Do I scare you that much?”

“N-No... it's just that... n-never mind,” you said, scared, but with the feeling that this puppet had nothing to do with the three girls who made your life miserable. “I-I don't like people very much either.”

“I see that,” Angie said, swinging her legs comically on the bench. “Why? You’re beautiful and you should be surrounded by stupid boys.”

At that comment, your eyes widened. No one, ever, had told you that you were beautiful, much less, someone like her.

“Beautiful? Me?” you asked confused, pointing at yourself. “No, I'm not…” you sighed, believing that, just like the girls, that doll was laughing at you.

“If you say so…” the puppet sighed. “Hey, hey, hey, silly, do you want to play?”

“What? Play?” you asked, shaking your head.

“Yes, that way we kill time for the festival to end,” the puppet suggested. “Do you know how to play chain words?”

“I-I think so,” you stammered. “S-Sorry, Miss Angie… it's just that I've never been so close to… someone… someone like you.”

“Well, you'll get used to it,” Angie whispered, getting a little closer, still looking at you. “Hey, lonely girl, I think my Donna would like you…”

Unintentionally, by chance, that meeting preceded by a horribly bitter moment was the beginning of your new life. The lady in black appeared shortly after to take her doll, who seemed to have escaped.

If Angie hadn't existed... well, none of that would have happened. The doll's insistence to its owner to meet you was a bit exaggerated, but... to your own surprise, it worked. You didn't know what that veiled lady had seen in you, but you didn't reject Angie's proposal to get to know her better.

You couldn't deny that you were afraid, you were, and very much so. Lady Beneviento was described by the village as an extremely dangerous, sick and unhinged woman, but... to you she didn't seem that way. It was impossible to know what was under that black cloth and hypotheses were always part of the village's rumors.

Despite that, it didn't take long for you to find things in common with that woman. She didn't seem like a ruthless creature but... a normal, ordinary woman, or at least, on the surface. A lover of art and literature, cultured, sensitive, intelligent... Donna was the opposite of what the rumors said.

She was a woman wounded by her past, consumed by the loneliness of her dilapidated mansion, but somehow, your presence made it not seem like that. Her voice, a voice that no one had ever heard before, rang out only for you on one of the afternoons you spent with her, drinking tea, like two unknown souls dying to know each other.

Everything happened so fast that you couldn't control it. Your feelings, the sensations you had when you were with her became overwhelming in a very short time. She wasn't laughing at you, she was nice to you. The monster that the rumors spoke of was, to you, an angel in a world of demons.

Her beauty was special, undeniable, stained by a scar that covered part of her face. Again, you could feel privileged to admire what was hidden, but you didn't have much time to do so, as her lips suddenly landed on yours, showing that Donna felt the same as you.

Everything seemed perfect, incredible. The relationship you started with Donna was a good reason to start leaving your past behind. You believed that this tangle of kisses, whispers of love, caresses, could tear down what seemed like an eternity of suffering.

In part it was like that, smiling was no longer too hard a job for you, but, to be honest, you didn't forget as much as you thought.

Sometimes those dark shadows came back. It didn't matter if it was day or night, those words echoed in your ears, preventing you from forgetting your complexes, those words that, after being too many years in your head, seemed like an immutable truth.

It wasn't strange that you wondered what that incredible woman was doing with you, what she could have seen in a horrible, ugly girl like you. Looking in the mirror, you came up with dark reasons for it. Maybe her complexes made her settle for the first girl who didn't run away, or simply, she felt better with someone uglier than her.

Deep down you knew it was nonsense, that none of the arguments your brain made were true but… after so much suffering, you just couldn't help but think it.

Two years later, that relationship continued. Donna was perfect, simply perfect, and you had a hard time understanding why perfection had set its sights on you, but it did, and the reasons mattered less and less to you.

You couldn't stop sadness and the past from coming back to attack you, causing you to cry in front of the mirror for no reason, looking at the reflection of what must have been… a monster.

Of course, your past remained hidden in the depths of your soul. You didn't want her to know about your misfortunes. You were afraid that, if she did, she would recognize that the love she felt for you was nothing but spite.

No, you couldn't tell her anything, you didn't want to worry her or expose your insecurities, besides there was no reason to do so anymore. In those two wonderful years, you didn't return to the village. You were convinced that, with time, you could stop crying.

“Hi,” you said with a slightly fake smile, erasing the tears from your face as you entered the workshop.

The lady in black didn't turn to look at you, but she made a loving gesture with her hand for you to come closer. You did, leaning down to kiss her cheek, to get that shy laugh that drove you crazy out of her lips.

“Mm, ciao, tesoro...” she whispered, turning her head so your lips crashed against hers, stealing a tender kiss from you. “Are you coming to keep me company?”

“Yes,” you said amused, enjoying the contact of her skin with yours, letting her hands grab your body, sitting you on her lap. “What are you doing?”

“Making dolls,” she said, looking back at the work table as you settled on her.

“Yes, I see,” you said amused. “Can I?” you asked, reaching out your hand to pick up the porcelain doll she offered you, looking at it lovingly. “It's very cool.”

“Grazie, (Y/N), but it's just like the others,” Donna said as you ran your fingers along the seams of that little dress. “Well, almost… Look, I decided to add some ruffles.”

“I gave you that idea,” you said with a sincere smile, sighing at the sight of the creation that came, in part, from your imagination. “What is she?”

“She's a fisherman's daughter,” she said, moving as she lovingly caressed your hair. “Look, see the little fish I embroidered on it?”

“Yeah, wow, that’s fabulous work, Donna,” you said, nodding in admiration at your girlfriend’s underappreciated work.

The lady smiled, looking at you, proud of your compliments, but that smile suddenly faded, bringing a hand to your chin and slowly lifting it.

“(Y/N), your eyes…” she murmured confused, studying your gaze.

“W-What's wrong with them? A-Are they ugly? Don't you like them?” you asked nervous, looking away from her.

You were starting to think that time would never heal your insecurities.

“Mm? Di che cosa stai parlando?” Donna asked, shaking her head. “Your eyes are beautiful, tesoro but… they're red… What's wrong? Have you been crying?” she asked with a worried tone.

“Oh, no, no,” you said, shaking your head effusively, rubbing your eyes. “It's just that… I think, I think I have an allergy to… to dust.”

“Allergy?” Donna questioned, frowning. “Really? W-Well, maybe I should hire a maid and…”

A maid? A beautiful girl in uniform working for Donna? A girl surely much more beautiful than you? A girl that the lady in black would notice, realizing that you were hideous? No, thank you.

“No,” you said abruptly, making her blink in confusion. “No, Donna, it will pass.”

She smiled, nodding.

“You're right, besides, I wouldn't like to have another girl in the house, you could fall in love with her,” the lady in black commented, whispering in your ear. “That would kill me.”

“Don't talk nonsense,” you said, laughing at the tickling her lips were starting to do on your neck. “I could never fall in love with someone other than you.”

“I like that you say that. I like knowing that you're mine…” she purred playfully, but before you could perhaps get carried away by passion in the workshop, the phone interrupted, making you two sigh in a complicit manner.

“Hey, you two!” Angie shrieked, interrupting the kisses that were beginning to heat up. “Are you deaf or is your blood not reaching your head? The phone is ringing!”

“Ugh, Angie,” Donna protested, pushing away the doll, who was already beginning to tug impatiently at her dress. “Behave, please…”

“Pick up the damn phone!” Angie shrieked, creating, along with the sound of the phone, a chaos in the normally silent workshop. “Let that silly thing go and get up!”

Your smile faded when you heard the doll talk about you as a… thing… The memories came back to haunt you.

“Angie, taci,” the lady growled, not obeying her puppet. “Pick it up, will you?”

“Always me! Angie, do this, Angie pick up the phone,” the doll mocked, making the lady laugh.

“Do it,” Donna growled, still kissing you, calming your nerves with her hot lips.

“You damn clingy fool…” Angie grumbled, leaving the workshop and obeying her owner.

Anyway, she couldn't do anything else, Donna created her.

After a while in silence, only accompanied by kisses, hugs and increasingly suggestive caresses, the doll returned, making you, with a knowing look, move away before your clothes began to disappear.

“It was the Duke,” the doll said, climbing onto Donna's lap, trying, unsuccessfully, to push you away from her. “He says he couldn't come this afternoon.”

“What?” the lady asked, frowning. “Why not?”

“I'm sorry, Miss Angie, personal matters,” the puppet said, imitating the merchant's voice. “What personal matters? Lose weight?”

“Cavolo…” the brunette lamented, passing a hand over her forehead. “We need flour.”

“So?” Angie protested, without being able to move an inch. “Send the fool to get it.”

“Yes, well… (Y/N), would you do me a favor and go to the village?” the lady asked, causing you to suddenly get up from her lap, nervous.

“M-Me? To t-the village?” you asked with difficulty pronouncing the words.

Two years had passed, two happy years without setting foot in the village. All your demons were still present, but, somehow, far away. Returning to the place where you suffered would only make things worse and besides, they would still be there, you were sure.

“Yes, you,” Donna said, frowning, surprised by your reaction. “Do you mind going?”

“Um, well… I… it's been a long time since I've been to the village and…” you murmured, looking away, somewhat embarrassed by your irrational fear.

“Ha!” Angie laughed amused. “Are you afraid of getting lost or something? Please…”

“No, of course not, it's just that…” you said nervously, noticing how sweat was beginning to run down your hands.

You couldn't, you didn't want to go back. Away from that place you had been safe. You just didn't want to go through the same thing. You couldn't do it, unless… Donna accompanied you.

“O-Okay, but… Donna, could you come with me?” you asked with a pleading look.

Being accompanied by a powerful Lord changed things. Maybe if those stupid girls saw you with her they would change their minds, or, at best, they would get the scare of their lives.

“Io?” she asked, pointing at herself. “No.”

“Why not?” you asked approaching the woman in black, who maintained a cold gaze. “How long has it been since you left the house? I think you could use some fresh air.”

“If I want to get some fresh air, I would take a walk around the grounds, like I do with you. I'm sorry, (Y/N), but I don't want to go to the village,” she answered with a dry voice, shaking her head. “I just need flour, the other things can wait. It's not that big of a deal.”

“It's not that big of a deal?” you asked more nervously, looking for somewhere to look. “Donna, I…”

“What's going on? Why don't you want to go to the village, (Y/N)? Is there something you haven't told me?” the lady asked, slowly getting up from the chair and holding your gaze with her eye half-closed.

“Um, no…” you sighed, lying again, unable to show the root of your problems, of your insecurities. “No, but…”

“Then obey, silly,” Angie said, with a severe tone camouflaged in a sinister laugh.

“I… O-Okay,” you said, without further arguments, defeated by that curious look that threatened with one of her interrogations. “I'll go.”

“Fine,” Donna said, arching her eyebrow and sitting down again. “Don't be long, tesoro.”

“N-no,” you murmured, biting your lip and slowly leaving the workshop.

As you walked, you thought about everything happened in that place, everything you had been through: the death of your parents, your loneliness, the cruel teasing of the girls… Everything had been generated in that sinister village. If there was a place you hated, that you never wanted to return to, it was that one.

Luckily, there was tranquility among the houses. No one noticed you as you walked towards your destination. Maybe, just maybe, those girls were no longer there, maybe you were worrying in vain. After all, two years had passed.

Everything seemed to be going surprisingly well, as you made the purchase relaxed, without awkward questions, as if you hadn't disappeared. For a moment, you had the hope that the demons that tormented you had disappeared with the passage of time. Unfortunately, it was a fleeting thought.

“(Y/N), what a surprise,” you recognized that voice immediately, freezing but forcing your legs to keep walking.

“Hey, where are you going so fast?” Olga insisted, grabbing your arm roughly. “Look, Miriam, Alicia, the monster is back.”

“(Y/N), you look ugly, as always,” Miriam said while you struggled against Olga’s grip. “What has happened to you these two years? Apart from being more horrible, of course.”

“Yes, (Y/N), we thought you were dead,” Alicia said, stopping you from moving forward.

“Leave me alone,” you whispered, pushing them away with your shoulder, trying not to hear their hurtful comments.

“What's wrong? Were you petrified by seeing your reflection? Have you hibernated? What happened to you?” Miriam insisted, with that petulant tone that reminded you of your horrible past.

“It's none of your business,” you growled, walking faster, escorted helplessly by the three girls.

“Well, we like to know where the monsters are, right, Olga?” Miriam commented, laughing mockingly. “So we can hide.”

Maybe telling the truth wasn't such a bad idea.

“You want to know where I've been? Huh?” you said, stopping abruptly, tears in your eyes again. “I've been living with Donna Beneviento for two years, she's my... girlfriend,” you said, faltering.

“What?” they asked in unison, looking at each other confused. “You must be kidding.”

“It's not a joke, so... stop, stop messing with me or I'll tell her and...” you said, pretending a threatening tone you weren't able to emit.

“Oh, what will she do to us? You're pathetic, (Y/N), of course, if anyone had to be with the crazy doll lady, it's you.”

“Don't insult her,” you hissed nervously, cornered again.

“Yes, surely that nutcase has noticed you because you're even much uglier than her.”

“Shut up!” you shrieked, shaking the bags in your hand. “I'll tell her and…”

“They say she's more horrible than a lycan,” Alicia hissed, approaching you with a smug smile. “That she has five eyes and claws in her mouth…”

“No, shut up,” you said, noticing how your legs were starting to fail you.

“Alicia, don't mess with the monster's girlfriend,” her friend said, with a cocky pose. “It's the most (Y/N) can aspire to.”

“It's true, although well, she probably hates seeing her face every day, that's why she sends you on errands, right?” she said, making tears return to your eyes.

“Well, a deformed being like her could only be with another deformed being like you. It's nature, but… well, maybe it's not a good thing,” Miriam commented, leaning uncomfortably on your shoulder.

“What do you mean?” one of the girls asked.

“It's obvious. That relationship won't last. Lady Beneviento will probably commit suicide for having her around, just like her parents... or, and yours,” Olga said with a dangerous tone.

“My parents died of an illness,” you growled nervously, looking everywhere, looking for some help.

“Yes, the illness of having an ugly as hell daughter,” the girl laughed, those laughs that didn't leave your mind even when you couldn't hear them.

“Relax, (Y/N), nothing will happen to her when she realizes how ugly you are, she probably won't take long to get rid of you, but... when she does, if you survive, don't go near the village, okay? You give nightmares to the children,” Miriam said.

Unable to defend yourself, you decided to run, to flee, while the three girls laughed amused. You didn't want to blame Donna for not being with you, for not making those stupid girls swallow their words, but you couldn't help but do so.

When you returned home, you didn't give any explanation, you just wanted to cry. You needed to. Your nightmare was far from over and your reflection in the mirror was becoming more and more distorted. It had been a while since you'd seen a person, but a monster.

“I'm telling you something's wrong with her, Donna, can't you see it?” you heard Angie say as you went up to the dining room.

The crying had exhausted you and you had masterfully avoided your girlfriend's questions.

“Yes, she was tired,” the lady whispered, setting the table while you listened, hidden in a corner.

“You're stupid, Donna, it's obvious that she's been crying,” Angie said, tugging at her dress. “I've approached the bedroom and heard sobbing.”

“If (Y/N) has any problems, she would tell me,” Donna said, sure of her words, ones she didn't know were a lie.

“Maybe the problem is you,” Angie murmured. “Donna, you are as understanding as a glass of water, why don't you ask her and…?”

“Oh, (Y/N),” the lady said when she saw you appear, with a tender smile, one that you returned with great effort. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, I just needed to rest,” you murmured with your voice broken by crying, letting the lady kiss you quickly before accompanying you to the table.

“Mm,” she murmured with a sweet smile as she sat in front of you, thus beginning another of your romantic, silent dinners. “Angie told me you have been crying.”

“Oh,” you sighed. “T-the allergy, you know.”

“If something worries you, (Y/N), you must tell me. You haven't said a single word since you came back from the village,” Donna commented, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye as she poured you a glass of wine.

“Nothing's wrong with me,” you said, feigning confidence, stopping eating for a moment and looking at the lady, who was frowning. “Hey, Donna, you… you love me, don't you?”

“Of course I love you, amore mio,” she sighed, reaching out her hand to caress yours. “I see tears in your eyes, tesoro. Please tell me what's wrong.”

“Nothing, I just sometimes wonder what you're doing with me,” you said in a sad tone, returning to your dinner.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Donna said amused, thus showing her lack of ability to understand emotions, something she wasn’t guilty of.

Poor Donna had been alone almost all her life. She wasn’t able to see the glow that indicated there was something wrong.

“Everything was delicious, Donna, but I think I'll go to sleep, I'm kind of tired,” you whispered after dinner, getting up from the chair.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing your wrist before you left. “(Y/N), I'm sorry about not going with you. If you're upset about that, I beg you to forgive me.”

“Oh, don't worry,” you said with a fake smile, kissing the back of her hand. “I have nothing to forgive you for.”

“Yes, but…” the lady said hastily, getting up and cupping your face in her hands. “I want to make it up to you. Tomorrow I have a meeting with my siblings and maybe, well, maybe you want to accompany me.”

“Do you want me to accompany you?” you asked, blushing at the proposal.

“Yes, um, the only bad thing is that you would have to wait outside, but I could give you that walk through the village, do you fancy it?”

“Sounds good, thanks, Donna,” you sighed, kissing her cheek with hope resurfacing in your chest.

Maybe, finally, you could get your revenge, scare those stupid girls, show them that they couldn't mess with you, that Donna was by your side, that she loved you, and that she didn't think you were horrible, because she didn't, right?

Luck didn't seem to be on your side at all. The next day, you walked with the veiled lady through the village.

There weren't many people on the street and they all lowered their heads as soon as they saw you. You clung to Donna’s arm, keeping her close, looking with your eyes for those girls, who seemed to resist appearing.

You finally reached the entrance of the cathedral, where you would have to wait. You were disappointed for not having been able to fulfill your objective, but you were patient, since there was still the way back.

“Well, well...” that voice, that voice again.

“What are you doing here, (Y/N)? Have you come to ask Mother Miranda to end your suffering?” other girl asked while you read quietly under a statue.

Unconsciously, you looked at the cathedral, looking for a help that wouldn’t come.

“I'm afraid there is no remedy for you, (Y/N),” Alicia said, letting herself fall next to you. “You are so ugly that not even the Black Gods could fix you.”

“Leave me alone,” you whispered, without taking your eyes off the door.

“Has your girlfriend committed suicide already? I would if I had to wake up every day next to a monster like you,” Olga commented, imitating her friend's gesture. “Now it's time to go after another Lord, isn't it? How about Moreau? You two look quite alike.”

“Yes, you'd make a good couple,” Miriam mocked, opening her eyes wide immediately.

“Ladies... Do you think it's fun to mess with my sister's girlfriend?” a seductive, velvety voice appeared behind you, the lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu.

“My lady,” the girls repeated, standing up and bowing.

“Gods... How inelegant you are, my dears,” the lady in white murmured, placing a huge hand on your shoulder. “Maybe a few days in my castle will teach you some manners.”

“No, my lady, we're leaving now, my lady,” one girl said, terrified, walking backwards.

“Get out...” Alcina whispered, shaking her head. “Get out!”

You were nervous, sobbing, watching those three demons flee in terror. In other circumstances you might have laughed, but not at that moment.

“My dear… How do you let them say those things to you?” Alcina asked, sitting down next to you as best she could, running a hand over your tear-wet cheeks. “Can't you defend yourself?”

“I-I've been hearing them say that for so long that… that…” you said hiccupping, succumbing to your complexes, ones they created. “They're right.”

“They're right? Please,” she sighed, putting her arms around your shoulders. “You must be blind, dear. Those three stupid girls are just jealous.”

“I have nothing for them to envy… I'm a monster,” you sobbed, covering your face with your hands.

“Maybe you and I have a different idea of ​​what monsters are like, my dear,” the lady of the castle said, shaking her head and patting your back. “I assure you that I have rarely seen a girl as beautiful as you. You must believe me, I know a lot about beautiful girls.”

“No, that's not true, that's…” you stammered, ignoring the compliment. “It's a lie.”

“Hey! Keep your claws off our (Y/N)!” Angie shrieked, appearing next to Donna and threatening the vampire.

“Your (Y/N)?” the lady in white asked, standing up elegantly. “My dear… If she is really yours, you should care a little more about her.”

“What happened? Why is the fool crying?” the doll asked as the lady in black approached, bending down to lift your chin, a touch you rejected.

“Three undesirable vermin were mocking poor (Y/N). Donna, you disappoint me, how can you allow them to say such things to your girl?”

“Cosa?” the brunette whispered raising her gaze and abandoning her touch on you. “Mocking?”

“Sì, cara mia… Allow me some advice: protect what is yours if you want to have the guts to call yourself a Lord, because if you don’t… well, I suppose there will always be room in the castle for this beautiful young woman, right?”

“Who did it!?” Donna shouted, frantically, comically pulling on Alcina's white dress, making her laugh amused. “Who did it!?”

“Mm, three young girls, they went that way,” Alcina pointed with her head.

“Come on, Donna!” Angie shrieked, walking in that direction. “It's been a long time since we had some fun.”

“Wait!” you screamed, grabbing the doll maker by the hand. “Leave it be, Donna, let's go home, please,” you begged, sobbing, wanting to disappear from that scene.

“No,” she hissed, pulling away from your grip. “They will pay for it.”

“No, no please, Donna!” you shrieked, pulling the lady under the watchful gaze of her sister. “It doesn't matter, I just want to go home, please.”

“What did they say to you, (Y/N)? Why were they making fun of you?” Donna said nervously, putting her hands on your shoulders. “What did they say to you?”

“It doesn't matter, Donna, really,” you insisted, resisting her nervous grip, her nails digging into your skin.

“They've hinted to your girl that she's… ugly, which is nonsense in my opinion, don't you think, Donna?” the vampire explained in an indifferent tone.

“Ugly? Her?” the lady in black asked in a confused tone, looking at you slowly. “But…”

You sobbed, hurt, deeply hurt, and turned around, running away from the women, returning home with a heartbroken cry.

There was nothing to do. Donna had discovered your problems, and you couldn't, nor did you want to wait to hear how she might agree. You wanted to cry, scream, but above all, you wanted to be alone.

You couldn't tell how long you were crying against the pillow, in the dark bedroom, hearing in the background a tireless knocking at the door.

“Apri la porta, (Y/N)!” Donna shouted from the other side. “Do it! Do you dare to disobey me?”

“I want to be alone!” you shouted, resting your head on the pillow. “I don't want you to tell me they're right, I don't want to hear it!”

“Cazzo!” Donna shrieked, banging on the door harder. “Why are you repeating that nonsense!? Open the door! Ugh…”

“No!” you screamed childishly, glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the vanity table. “You want to leave me? That's it, isn't it? You'll leave me because I'm ugly!”

“What the hell are you talking about? (Y/N)… open the door,” the lady hissed, getting impatient. “Please, I can't stand to see you cry, I know it's not the first time you've done it.”

“What do you care if I cry? You'll leave me anyway,” you said, sitting up and rubbing your stinging eyes. “Say it already.”

“What? What do you want me to say?” It was heard from the other side.

“That I'm horrible!” you shrieked, opening the door and running away from the lady, who grabbed you tightly by the arms.

“You're pissing me off, (Y/N)…” she hissed, not letting you escape. “Now you're going to tell me what's wrong with you, why you don't stop crying day after day if you don't want me to get really angry, you don't want that, right?”

You could only shake your head.

“Well, talk, what's all this business about those girls? Why do you cry every night?” she asked, in a calmer tone, wiping away your tears. “Tesoro, you're so ugly when you cry…”

“I'm always ugly,” you murmured, sitting on the bed and playing with your hands. “T-Those girls…” you started when the brunette sat next to you, ignoring your self-pity. “…T-They were never my friends but since I was very little they were always… harassing me, insulting me…”

“(Y/N)…” Donna whispered, nodding for you to continue.

“I know I'm not beautiful, but they... they're always reminding me and laughing at me and... even when some guy would come over, they would talk him out of it, telling horrible lies and...”

“I don't get it, (Y/N), what's this about you being ugly? I'm sorry, but I can't understand,” she stammered, frowning, confused.

“Stop pretending! Look at me!” you shrieked, pointing at your face. “They're right, I'm horrible...”

“Are you sure about that? Are you completely sure?” Donna asked, pulling your hand, lifting you from the bed and dragging you to the mirror, sitting you roughly on the stool. “Look, (Y/N), look!”

“D-Donna...” you stammered scared as the lady grabbed your face, forcing you to look at your reflection.

“Look at yourself, (Y/N). Look at your face, your eyes, your lips…” she whispered, fixing her eye on your reflection while holding your head. “I've never seen a girl as beautiful as you.”

“Y-You're just saying that to cheer me up,” you murmured, lowering your head. “It's not true, I…”

“I can't believe you, (Y/N), even my sister has noticed that you're beautiful, do you really think she offers anyone a room at the castle? Please open your eyes, look at reality.”

You shook your head, looking at all your features, features that, you began to notice, weren't those of a monster.

“If you think you're horrible, (Y/N), what am I?” she hissed, pointing at the deformity of her face. “You've never needed to cover your face, have you? You don't need a veil…”

“Donna, I didn't mean…” you said regretfully, blinking. “It's just that they…”

“They? They're just bitches!” the lady shouted, cursing like never before. “Do you know what their only problem is? That they'll never be as beautiful as you.”

“S-So… you think that…”

“They're just jealous, (Y/N), jealous of you, but you know what? You shouldn't care, all you have to do is… look in the mirror and acknowledge the facts. You're the most beautiful girl in the village, and I don't have enough gratitude for the Gods, because someone like me is lucky enough to have you.”

“Donna,” you said with tears in your eyes, believing her words, forgetting the insults, the years of teasing, realizing that she was right, that boys were approaching you in droves, interested in you and scared by those stupid girls, just out of jealousy because they would never be like you.

“Come here,” Donna whispered lovingly, lifting you from the vanity table and grabbing you by the waist. “Promise me that you will never believe a single word again. You must believe me, tesoro. I will always tell you the truth.”

“I... I don't know what to say,” you stammered, excited because, for the first time, Donna had managed to calm your fears, because you realized that you should have always trusted her, that this nightmare would have ended if you had told her what was tormenting you during those nights of crying.

“Mm, then don't say anything, just kiss me, bella,” the lady whispered, slowly approaching your lips, devouring them in a wet and warm kiss, comforting and salty with tears.

It was a long, deep kiss, animated by the silence, by the nervous breaths your lips emitted while they caressed each other. Her hands grabbed your waist, bringing you closer to her body, letting all her warmth embrace you slowly, without hurrying, while you had fun messing up her black hair, letting it fall on her shoulders.

“I love you,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on hers, running a hand over the scar that deformed her face, discreetly consoling her own insecurities. “I love you…”

Donna smiled, closing her eye so your hands caressed her soft skin, letting only you have that privilege, only you realize that she was a beautiful woman, that her beauty was only for you.

The doubts, the insecurities disappeared little by little, with each step you took towards the bed, with the voices of your demons camouflaged by the wet sound of the kisses, of the steps on the wood. Donna let her body rest on yours as her hands clung to your face while her lips reluctantly moved away from yours kissing your skin slowly, whispering things you didn't understand, but tickled your flesh.

“Beautiful... the most beautiful girl in the world,” she whispered in your ear, her hips betraying her desire, her fingers caressing your collarbone and her lips refusing to abandon the softness of your skin.

You laughed at the compliment, wanting to give her that affection too, running your hands over the perfection of her body, her waist, her chest covered by what at that moment seemed to you to be a horrible black dress.

“Donna...” you gasped when those innocent hands stopped being innocent, when they attacked the ties of your dress and pulled it down your body while you were distracted by her kisses, with her shy tongue bristling every inch of your skin. “Donna…”

She didn’t answer, since worshipping your body was a task that always required all her attention. Her legs settled on either side of your hips and her fingertips undid the annoying bra that covered you.

You gasped again, letting yourself be carried away by the subtle movements of her body, with your hands struggling to make their way over her chest, to undress it, to delight your eyes with her naked and perfect body.

Her kisses went down little by little, without it seeming important to her the hand that slipped through her dress, the hand that caressed her chest softly, a chest that rose and fell nervously, anxious to know what your fingers would do to it.

She pulled away from your lips, sitting up for a moment to look at you, with a cold, thoughtful look. You wondered what was going through her mind, what she was thinking about while her two hands passed over your naked skin, stopping at your breasts, squeezing them in a dominant, but kind, respectful way.

“Il tuo corpo è bellisimo,” she whispered slowly so you could understand her and blush while laughing shyly.

Your smile provoked hers, and without knowing what you wanted, the lady in black stopped being so, taking that annoying dress off her body, staring at you.

“If you say those things to me... I won't be able to control myself,” you said amused, with a mischievous look, grabbing the back of her neck and bringing her lips to their only possible place at that moment, kissing yours.

The kisses heated the atmosphere like a fireplace in winter. Your bodies danced tirelessly, more and more exposed, naked. The caresses became subtle scratches, claims of ownership as you panted on her lips.

Your hands became jealous, they wanted to touch her, to feel her bare chest as it rubbed against yours, to delight in the perfection of her figure always hidden, always ashamed.

No, Donna had nothing to be ashamed of. She was a terribly beautiful woman even if she refused to recognize it. Then, you realized that your frustration must be similar to hers.

Two women in love unable to recognize each other's beauty; you seemed predestined, it seemed that the only thing you could do in your sad life was to be together, to love each other, to kiss each other, to fuse your bodies into one and tell the world that you were both making love with beauty itself.

You protested with a moan when you noticed how her lips left yours, how her silky hair tickled your skin and her hands grabbed your legs, moving them at will.

Your fingers searched for each of the corners that disappeared little by little, they searched for her breasts, to make her nipples stand up like she had done with yours. It was the least that a Goddess like Donna deserved, but she didn’t allow it.

Her lust had other plans, her lips wanted to kiss your breasts, your belly, your thighs… She didn't want to let you think that there was a single inch of your body that wasn't worth worshiping.

“Donna…” you moaned, relaxing your body as you felt her lips on your wetness, her tongue caressing your most intimate area while your hands desperately sank into your hair.

She laughed against your skin without stopping her wet feat, running through your folds, playing with your clit and gently stimulating it so the pleasure wasn't overwhelming. She wasn't making love to you; she wasn't giving you oral sex, no… Donna was worshiping you.

Her kisses weren't fast or anxious, they were slow; they were made to enjoy the taste of your arousal, to get those soft and erotic movements of your hips. You wanted to protest, to demand a place between her legs too, but she didn't let you.

“Shhh, this is just for you, amore mio…” Donna whispered into your skin, adding her hands to the fun, trying to stimulate the parts her tongue abandoned.

You wouldn't feel cold, you wouldn't feel neglected, she was there to make you enjoy as she thought you deserved.

Your childish grunts and protests began to drown with moans of pleasure, with intense shivers, when one of her fingers followed the path of her tongue, impregnating itself in your wet core, playing with your eager entrance.

“Donna, please,” you said without wanting to, involuntarily begging for that pleasure to materialize, to stop being superficial.

The lady heard you, pressing her lips to your skin for the last time and climbing your nakedness, allowing you to taste yourself in her kisses, in a terribly erotic way.

There was barely time to enjoy that sensation, as her fingers entered you without wasting any more time, curling into your trembling core, one that was already unbearably hot.

Her movements were soft, careful, perfectly timed by her kisses and caresses, by subtle moans that came from her lips, by the pure and almost innocent pleasure of giving you that altruistic passion, one just for you.

The moans soon got out of control, causing your imperfect nails to scratch the perfection of her skin, marking her back to cushion the waves of pleasure you felt. Her fingers were harmonious, tireless, tender and passionate, running along your walls in a unique way, entering, leaving, caressing…

“Donna! I’m…!” you screamed when your hips jerked sharply, when your interior kept her fingers still at the same time your entire back tensed, accompanied by a very scandalous moan.

Of course, your release wasn't going to put an end to that pleasure. Without giving Donna time to protest, you threw yourself at her, immobilizing her, not allowing her to embrace you without returning the favor first.

Clumsily, but with desire, you imitated her movements, you sank into her eager wetness, which seemed to call you, to turn you on just with her scent. Your tongue, your lips… everything she gave you came back in the best way you wanted, making the normally shy and silent Donna Beneviento unable to help but scream.

She had her release and the kisses returned, rubbing your bodies tirelessly, brushing your wet core with her thigh while she did the same, hugging each other, looking into each other's eyes, loving each other in a hot, erotic and unmatched way.

“Donna…” you sighed once the action ended, collapsing in her arms after a second orgasm, with your demons far away from you. “I love you…”

She laughed, kissing you on the forehead and rubbing your back, but suddenly she frowned, pushing you away.

“Where are you going? Come here, my love,” you said with a sad look, watching how the lady got out of bed and started to get dressed, with a frivolous, almost dark face.

“Stay here, tesoro, I'll be back soon… I have to talk to three stupid girls…”

[evankinkley]

Any recommendations on actual good gay rep on tv? i need it.

oof. i'm going to be fucking basic here, I fear. but I can share my favorites (again these will be basic af).

Heartstopper - no brainer. It's fucking painful at times, but it's doesn't play into stereotypes. It addresses the stereotypes and how they can be harmful. They cover most of the letters in the LGBTQIA+ line-up. There's a character who says "I'm bi, actually." six times (?) in one season because people keep calling him gay. Extra bonus: most actors are also part of the rainbow community.

Agatha All Along - Spooky season has just passed, but no time like the present to watch MCU's gayest project that is queer and feminist and embraces it completely. (does not have a happy ending for some of the gays, but still beautiful)

Black Sails - It's a show about gay pirates. They're gay and it's not the most interesting part about them. There's lesbians, gays, people just going with the vibes... Happy ending, yes and no.

Hannibal - It's a show about gay cannibals. They're obsessed with each other. The definition of "Can't live with them/ Can't live without them." Happy ending is debatable in the sense that it's ambigious.

Red, White and Royal Blue - oh, especially this week. Since it was a loss for the USA and now for bisexuals. Have a fun and painful movie about the First Son bisexual king Alexander Claremont-Diaz. Biracial, bisexual, complete idiot, and his mom is the democratic president of the united states. Happy ending assured.

Like I said, a pretty fucking basic list but these are my comfort shows and have incredible writing / representation and it's clear so much care went into making them. A lot of these shows have actively avoided harmful stereotypes in the show itself but also how the creators and actors have talked about these projects.

Honorable mention for Shadow and Bone, your potential was incredible but sadly it was not meant to be.

If you're looking for a new fandom that will hurt less and make you feel less betrayed, this is an ok start, i'd think. My inbox is always open to talk about it.

Don't get me started on other forms of gay media. One day I'll read my entire library.