#but something where you can choose the characters

[sakuravalenp]

What if, Danny considers all the storyline as part of the service.

Sam, Danny, Jazz, Tucker and Dan create the characters with so much love. This are they're OC'S y'all.

The characters have backgrounds, but more importantly their current situations. Why are they working here?

Anna is struggling financially and her parents are threatening to throw her out, so she's desperately trying to get money before that happens.

Joseph is saving to finally get formal education and finish highschool. He wants to be a good example for his future kids and be able to afford they're education.

Angeline is so happy to be a head chef. As a women, it's been hard getting this position, despite all her years of experience in the kitchen. She's still working on balancing being too soft with the people under her, and being too strict. But she loves this job so much.

Things like that. And their wardrobe and character design! They all spend hours around Danny asking him to change and adjust like one of those girl games where you created your own doll. But you have infinite options and complete freedom.

“Could you make the hair a tan bit lighter? No, no, that's too light.”

“Sam, it's almost the same color!”

“No they're not, and I need something in between!”

"I think the nose should be bigger? Yeah yeah like that. And let's put a mole here!"

"Ellie, there's already a mole there."

"Well, then make it darker, because I can't see it!"

Danny got a phone just for this, where he keeps the characters notes. The phone Gallery is full of photos of him in character wearing all the possible wardrobe the character would wear.

At some point Paulina and Star are pulled in to create some outfits. Maybe they know about Danny, maybe they don't and they simply say that some co-workers need help with their fashion.

Sam, Danny, Jazz, Danny and Dan reunite every now and then to put together storylines. It's open improv so they're not writing scripts but more like events that need to be reached. (Choose whoever you think is speaking)

“How ready are you for kid characters?”

“Uh… haven't tried yet?”

“Because I've been thinking that Alice could be a teen mom!”

"She's like 23, a bit old for teen mom, you know?"

"Was a teen mom 🙄. The kids is like 8."

“Wait, isn't Alice going out with Mark? The Mark that has explicitly said that he absolutely never likes kids? The one that was thinking about proposing?”

“Yes, so picture this. Alice comes to the restaurant for whatever reason and it is revealed that Alice has kids, and never told Mark!”

“Mark has a temper, it would be a whole screaming match! The drama! Will he reveal he was planning to propose?”

“Okay, okay, but we need some ground work, we can't just get that out without any hints.”

“Well, it'll take me a while to get a kid right.” Danny says while making a clone half his height but with all the proportions wrong. “So we have time for that…”

They're all aware that the clients go to the restaurant more for the absolute soap opera that the workers have for lives, than for the food. Sure, the food is good, but the drama? The friends to lovers, the love triangle, the break ups, the return character for last season.

It works because no one knows these people outside of the restaurant so it feels like pure gossip that doesn't actually affect their community, but also they can interact and affect the story!!! And the community is closer than ever because it's impossible to be there for every scene, so they rely on each other to be up to date.

The whole bats being suspicious still work, since they all may have forgotten the characters should have some life out of the restaurant, that is seen instead of just told. Characters are only seen within the neighborhood for special scenes in the neighborhood bakery, and whatnot, but they'll always be back at the restaurant or disappear before they can follow them anywhere else.

There's no way all these people live there, and it doesn't match with how they act in the restaurant at all. What's going on!?

Danny's becoming the best actor in history. In the end, all the duplicates are still him. He just wished to know how Vlad did to reintegrate the memories of so many duplicates without getting a headache.

Danny didn’t mean to be so shady.

He had been working hard on his duplicates and had recently gained the ability to morph his appearance.

So he decided to challenge himself to see how long he could run a small business only using him and his clones.

The plan was to, at most, seem to have a group of quirky employees.

Unfortunately, it seems he has accidentally left more of an impression of being a shell company for less than legal reasons.

Good news is that he had did all the legal legwork properly and was not breaking the law.

Bad news was that the bats were getting suspicious and were trying to catch him in some sort of act.

Oh well, this just means that the difficulty has ramped up!

[yusiyomogi]

ngl one of my favorite moments in the whole game so far is when susie switched controller inputs in chapter 3. idk, there's something so cozy and playful in that little section, i couldn't stop smiling. you can feel team's dynamic so well, their little inside jokes and such. not to mention its importance for character development. "kris prefers to play as me" - yes, because susie has more freedom in her actions even in the minigame; ralsei tentatively enjoying playing as kris because he can choose where to go, instead of following others… but even not thinking about all this, the moment is just incredibly cute. i could stay there

[aventurineswife]

(Ignore this if its already been done)

Okay, either nobody has asked about this yet, or I just haven't check correctly, with all the child related asks you'd think at least one of them would ask, talk about, or at least inform about the knowledge of the Palmar Grasp Reflex with babies.

Apparently-*Slips on my prescribed glasses, holding up an AI Overview Google Search*

'A baby's grip is surprisingly strong, often powerful enough to support their own body weight due to a reflex called the palmar grasp reflex, which causes them to instinctively clench their fists when something touches their palm; this means they can hold onto a finger or object with significant force, even as newborns'

Hm...-*Throws away Google Search and slips off glasses*

So, how exactly do you think the characters of your choosing would handle a situation where their offspring were to hit them with the Palmar Grasp Reflex? I have seen in several different cases of babies grabbing their own hair and crying because they were hurting themselves, grabbing other people's hair, and not letting go- facial hair included, along with suddenly grabbing at food- that was not for them, mind you, and succeeding in such an excavation.

It can be hilarious, really.

Caught in a Love Snare

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Boothill x Reader, Fluff & Humor, Established Relationship, Parenthood, Baby Shenanigans, Soft Domestic Moments, Mild Angst (if you squint), Cuteness Overload.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, Mild language, Crying baby (because, well, babies) (?), Brief moments of baby-induced pain (hair pulling, face grabbing, etc.), Minor frustration (parenting is tough but rewarding!).

Ratio prided himself on his intellect, but he hadn't accounted for the sheer, unrelenting will of a newborn. He sat beside you, cradling your infant in his arms, watching as the tiny hands explored the world—or, more specifically, his hair. The moment those soft fingers brushed against the violet strands draping over his eye, they clenched with the force of a scholar gripping onto forbidden knowledge.

"Hah." He smirked, attempting to gently pry his hair free. "It seems our child has an appreciation for the finer things in life. My brilliance must be genetic."

The baby cooed, eyes gleaming, and pulled tighter.

Ratio's smirk faltered. "Ah. Alright now—" He tugged lightly, but the tiny fist held firm. Your laughter didn't help his predicament.

"Maybe they just like the texture?" you teased, brushing your fingers against the baby’s cheek.

"Or they simply wish to test my patience," he mused, now strategizing an escape plan.

In the end, your intervention—combined with a careful distraction using a soft cloth—saved his dignity. But as he adjusted his ruffled hair, Ratio swore he saw a glimmer of triumph in your baby's gaze.

Aventurine had danced with fate more times than he could count, but nothing had prepared him for the steely grip of his own child. He was reclining on the couch, your baby resting on his chest, his signature smile ever-present.

"See, sweetheart, life’s a gamble, and you’ve gotta know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em—ow, ow, ow—!" His smooth words devolved into a choked laugh as tiny fingers latched onto the choker at his neck, yanking with surprising strength.

You snickered from the doorway. "Looks like someone’s not letting you fold."

He shot you a look of mock betrayal. "Darling, I believe our child has inherited your ruthlessness."

The baby gurgled in response, gripping tighter.

Aventurine gently pried at the tiny fingers, but his precious accessories weren’t so easily relinquished. "You know," he mused, "I’d almost admire this tenacity if it wasn’t threatening my windpipe."

It took both of you distracting the baby with a jingling bracelet before he was freed. As he adjusted his ruffled outfit, Aventurine let out a breathless chuckle. "A fine strategist already. I'll have to stay on my toes."

Boothill had faced bounty hunters, galactic enforcers, and IPC hit squads, but nothing—nothing—had prepared him for the iron grip of your infant. The cowboy sat with the baby nestled against his chest, cooing at the little one as they waved their tiny hands.

And then one small fist shot out and latched onto his scarf.

"Well, hell. Lil’ rascal’s (idk how to translate this into Boothill's language, sorry y'all) got a grip like a vice."

You chuckled from beside him, watching as he tried to gently tug his prized accessory free. "Guess they take after their daddy."

"Darn straight." Boothill grinned, though the slight strain in his voice betrayed the battle he was waging. "But if they don't let go soon, I might be goin' down as the first cowboy taken out by a baby."

The baby babbled, seemingly pleased with their victory.

Boothill sighed, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck entirely, much to the little one’s delight. He leaned back, shaking his head with amusement. "Guess I ain't winnin' this one. Ain't no shame in concedin’ to a worthy opponent."

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Get used to it, cowboy. They’ll be running the show soon enough."

He chuckled, eyes soft as he watched the baby clutch his scarf. "Reckon I don’t mind one bit."

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

📊 How to Use Tropes Without Turning Your Story into a YA Checklist

You can tell when a book was written by vibes and TVTropes alone.

It’s got: ☑️ the reluctant chosen one ☑️ the love triangle ☑️ the mysterious brooding boy™ ☑️ the sassy best friend ☑️ the dead parents ☑️ the villain with daddy issues ☑️ the scene where someone says “you don’t know what I’m capable of” and walks away dramatically

And like… that’s fine.

Tropes are tools. But here’s the thing: they are starting points, not story goals.

If your plot reads like it was drafted by a checklist in a Pinterest caption, it might be time to recalibrate. Here's how to actually use tropes without turning your book into a YA Mad Libs generator:

─────── ✦ ───────

🧩 Tropes Are Patterns--Not Presets

A trope is a pattern, not a requirement. It’s not a law. It’s not a plug-and-play feature. And it’s definitely not your plot.

The “enemies-to-lovers” arc? That’s a container. What you put inside it, that’s where the originality lives.

The goal isn’t to avoid tropes. It’s to do something interesting with them.

→ Why are they enemies? → What does the “love” cost them? → What happens if they fail to become lovers?

Tropes don’t carry the story. The conflict does.

─────── ✦ ───────

⚔️ Complicate the Familiar

Here’s a trick: if a trope feels too easy, break it in half.

Examples: → “Reluctant chosen one” → okay, but what if they wanted it, and then hated it once they got it? → “The mentor dies” → cool, but what if the mentor fakes their death to manipulate the protagonist? → “Sassy best friend” → no. Make them real. Give them pain. Give them depth. No more walking punchlines.

Tropes are scaffolding, not shortcuts. Add weight. Add doubt. Add betrayal.

─────── ✦ ───────

🕳️ Interrogate Why You’re Using It

Ask yourself: → Do I love this trope or do I feel like I have to include it? → Am I doing this because I’ve seen it done… or because it serves my story? → Is this trope the only interesting thing about this scene?

If your answer is “because that’s what YA stories do,” delete it. Go deeper.

─────── ✦ ───────

💔 Tropes Aren’t Substitutes for Character Arcs

You can’t use “grumpy x sunshine” and call it development. Tropes are flavors, not meals.

Give us: → Choices with consequences. → Conflicting values. → Character growth that costs something.

Otherwise? Your grumpy guy is just a Pinterest moodboard with a pulse.

─────── ✦ ───────

🧨 Use Reader Expectations Against Them

You want to use a trope and not make it predictable? Weaponize it.

Example: → Start with a love triangle. Let the MC fall hard. Then have both love interests realize they’re in love with each other. → Use the “chosen one” trope… but make it about dismantling that myth entirely. → Introduce the “villain redemption arc” and let them choose to stay bad because it makes more sense for them.

Set up the pattern. Then snap it in half. That’s how you surprise a jaded reader.

─────── ✦ ───────

Final thoughts from your local trope goblin:

→ Tropes aren’t the problem. It’s treating them like a checklist instead of a narrative engine. → A good trope doesn’t make your story good. How you twist it does. → If a story reads like it was built from Tumblr quotes and nothing else—it’s gonna flop.

So go ahead. Use the trope. Then ruin it. Make it weird. Make it hurt. Make it yours.

—rin t. // story mechanic. trope thief. YA bingo card burner. // thewriteadviceforwriters

Sometimes the problem isn’t your plot. It’s your first 5 pages. Fix it here → 🖤 Free eBook: 5 Opening Pages Mistakes to Stop Making:

🕯️ download the pack & write something cursed:

[olderthannetfic]

The take I saw about "Why POC characters are differently described than white characters." And the entire rant was basically just "I keep reading books by white authors about white characters, and I'm angry that these books by white authors writing white characters isn't about POC characters written by POC authors." THEN FUCKING READ POC WRITTEN BOOKS WITH (matching the author) POC MAIN CHARACTERS???? Why the ever loving fuck do you buy a white written book with a white protag if you demand a book with example an Indian main character WHILE ALSO demanding that the author knows and has experience that align with their protag aka being an Indian author? Also if you personally by default assume that the white author's protag is gonna be white, before even opening the book, and you wanted a POC character... then why the fuck did you get a book by a white author???

And dumb excuses like "most books are written by white authors"::::::: Indie publishing, self-publishing, foreign publishing, at this point you have to purposefully turn your brain off and ignore that you can use search engines to find POC books. You literally have to choose to avoid POC written books and instead buy all the white author and protag books.

I mean if they at least actually read books by (halfway competent) white writers about POC characters or a POC written book about a white protag. Maybe I'd get the discussion point, like as a comparison and a point of improvement for aspiring writers with aims for diverse casts of characters. But this person wasn't even halfway there and whining that their Booktok dreck and cheap copy paste bodice ripper library wasn't more diverse, when they didn't even try to diversify their own shopping habits to begin with. Like just for a second but real talk. If you out of your own volition decide to buy the fucking bottom of the barrel book in terms of writing skills and experience, and then get mad and angry it's written like a midterm paper that needs to hit a word count while the student barely trying to get a passing grade; what the fuck do you expect? Some of these books are barely above 5th grade level writing and you're expecting a fucking libraries worth of writing experience from these books where clearly most of the energy went into looking up adjectives. The issue in this case isn't the author or the protag, the problem is that you decided to buy and read the book.

--

Heh. One does suspect that a lot of complainers would be better off just reading something else.

I've found a few rants about descriptions of nonwhite characters useful. One blind spot I used to have was not noticing how a lot of books mention ethnicity only when a character is nonwhite (and this isn't something that the POV character would necessarily do).

On the other hand, a huge, huge number of such posts will fixate on things like "Nobody describes white skin in terms of food/commodities" or "Nobody kinks on white skin", and... whut? That is every second page in some books! Ivory, alabaster, peaches, blah blah blah. It's inescapable!

Probably the angriest rants I've seen boil down to "I want self insert trash for me. It's not fair that other people are well fed."

[wisteriaiswriting]

Late Night Date

Words: 466

Request: I'm a bit new here so I don't know if you write character x character x reader as in both characters are dating eachother and also dating reader, but if you do, can I ask for BuilderShed x reader where they meet because Shedletsky takes Builderman on a date to a food place and reader is the one working there and they all start chatting and reader falls for the two admins who in turn fall for reader?

I wrote this set in a fast food place but I haven’t worked in one (I actually work in a bakery, so if anything is off please forgive me)

Huffing as you looked at the clock, just an hour left until you could shut the doors and go home. But that also meant it was apparently prime time for familys of five to come in and make the biggest mess you’ve ever seen. Like how do the kids get sauce on the ceiling? That was not a fun night.

You stopped thinking about that when the door opened, one voice carried through the lobby as he spoke, watching the other nod along with a smile. Quickly realising who they were, two of the admins, Shedletsky and Builderman. Giving them a simple smile back when they got to the register, “Welcome, what can I get you two?” Builderman nudged Shedletsky to interrupt his story, “What did ya’ want?” “Oh yeah, I want…”

Typing in the food as he spoke, pausing to ask what Builderman wanted. But seeing as your work was kinda new he let the other choose for him, as he reached to pay you stopped him. “It’s on me tonight guys.” Shedletsky was confused, “Are you sure? I can pay.” “Look, we close in less than an hour, and he hasn’t eaten here before, so just take them.”

Not letting him argue anymore, turning around to cook the food. Hearing Shedletsky praise your kindness, unable to hear much more due to the food cooking. Soon enough though they were done, packing it up before taking it out to their table. Finding them at a four seat table near a window, gently placing the tray down but before you could leave Shedletsky spoke up.

“Hey, why don’t you sit with us? There’s no one else inside.” Taking a quick peek at the clock to see about 10 minutes had passed, so why not. “If you’re sure, then yeah.” Sitting next to Shedletsky as he patted the seat, “So, what brings you here?” “Funny, I could ask you two the same thing?” They both broke out into smiles, one larger than the other,  “Hilarious, but what's…”

The conversation was smooth, as if reuniting with friends you haven’t seen in years. It carried on until the clock struck 10, sadly getting up to start your cleaning duties. “It was amazing meeting you two, but I do have to shut the store.” An almost comical frown covered Shedletskys face, “Aww, I’ll be back tomorrow then!” “When, you’ll be busy?” “I’ll find the time, I’ll bring you something. But here.”

Scribbling two different phone numbers on a napkin before handing it over, “Message me tonight, I’ll be waiting.” Winking as he wrapped an arm around yours and Buildermans shoulder, waving as they left the store. Normally you wouldn’t be excited to work but you were tonight, working as quickly as possible to get home and start texting those two.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Tips for writing about dark romance and gothic romance?

Writing Notes & Tips: Dark Romance & Gothic Romance

Dark Romance - Another crossover genre, dark romance takes the feel-good romance genre and makes it horrific. While this subgenre can simply include morally questionable characters and a grittier tone than most romance, it can also include:

kidnapping,

forced confinement,

BDSM,

psychological and physical abuse, and

sexual violence or sex where there is no consent.

Bear in mind that it still needs to include the tenants of romance stories, though.

This genre can produce some very controversial books and themes, so it’s essential to proceed with caution – especially as a first-time reader.

Writing Tips: Dark Romance

Embrace the taboo (with trigger warnings). Controversial elements and themes, like forbidden love, obsession, betrayal, and manipulation, are common in dark romance books. Readers expect them and often seek certain character dynamics, so if you want to write a romance novel that goes right past sweet and loving into the downright taboo, do! Embrace the darkness. But handling these themes with sensitivity and respect is essential – and a fine line to walk in this specific genre. You can hire a sensitivity reader who specifically reads this type of romance or make sure your professional book editor knows about and considers these in their edits. 

Create complex, wounded characters. Dark romance thrives on complex, deeply flawed, multi-dimensional, and polarizing characters. You need complicated character motivations, inner demons, and personal struggles (that they often lose). They should be hard to like and easy to hate. It’s what makes for the dark content in the first place. If you want to know how to write dark romance books, you need to focus extra time on the character arc. We recommend using a character bio template to get this right. But keep in mind that you don’t want your character to necessarily “outgrow” the taboo or dark elements, as if they’re wrong. They can outrun their demons, but those demons don’t have to be the fact that they’re into BDSM (this audience in particular will not take kindly to the idea that BDSM is something to outgrow). The point of dark romance books is that these elements are the norm for these people.

Master the art of creating (sexual) tension. Proper pacing helps with this a lot, but the tension also has to come from plot devices. This genre especially uses the story’s conflict to create a sense of urgency and passion. You can do this for your book by including external obstacles like societal norms, family opposition, or internal struggles like emotional trauma, self-doubt, and conflicting desires. The push-and-pull dynamic between the protagonists heightens the emotional stakes and adds depth to the romance.

Invest time and thought in the setting. The setting of a story always plays a significant role in creating the mood and tone. The scenario or setting can often be what’s taboo. Or you choose a setting that enhances the dark and brooding atmosphere of the story, like a fantasy underworld, decaying mansion, a haunted castle, or a forbidden island, evoking a sense of foreboding and mystery. On the flip side, if you really want a challenge or to swing the other way, choose a setting like a beach or a ski retreat to set the story. You’ll have to work extra hard to set the tone, but the jarring nature of the story with a bright, happy setting can make your book more interesting.

Go into the deepest depths of human emotions. Emotions are confusing, can be contradictory, and sometimes completely unwelcome. This emotional intensity—delving into the deep emotions of love, lust, desire, and pain—is a primary part of dark romance novels. Take time to describe and highlight your characters’ raw and visceral emotions as they navigate their complicated relationship. The deeper you can go, and the darker, the more invested a reader will be in your character. Again, ensure you include any advance content warnings for the depths you’ll be exploring.

Make the plot purposeful. The real answer to, “what is dark romance?” means understanding and acknowledging the morally questionable subject matter while still recognizing that there is a plot. Sure, there are many books that are more smut than plot. And while some readers certainly enjoy this, others truly want a good story to go along with their dark romance read. It’s not just about the romance. To maintain the tone and genre style, focus on plots that explore themes that either go with or completely contradict the romantic content you write about.

You should be willing to push the boundaries of societal norms.

And be prepared for potential backlash.

For this reason, many dark romance authors decide to write and publish their books under a pen name or with ambiguous titles.

Including trigger warnings in your dark romance book

Dark romance books can be highly triggering and even traumatic.

Not everyone may know what your book is about by the cover.

So authors of dark romance should consider including warnings for sensitive topics and themes that may disturb or trigger readers.

We suggest trigger warnings for the following:

Graphic violence or gore

Sexual assault or abuse

Self-harm or suicide

Substance abuse or addiction

Mental illness or psychological trauma

Dubious consent or non-consensual situations

Depictions of unhealthy relationships or emotional manipulation

Explicit sexual content

Death or mortality themes

Themes related to abuse of power or control

Including trigger warnings allows readers to make informed decisions about whether the content is suitable for them and helps prioritize their emotional well-being.

Gothic Romance

Gothic Romance - a genre of literature that combines elements of both romance and horror, set against a backdrop of dark, often historical settings.

It's characterized by its use of gloomy, mysterious environments, supernatural elements, and complex, often tormented characters.

The narratives typically explore themes of love and passion intertwined with fear, mortality, and the macabre, creating a uniquely intense emotional experience.

The Gothic element of romance is the inclusion of horror, mystery, and the supernatural as central components within a romantic story.

This element creates a tension between attraction and fear, often exploring the darker side of human emotions and relationships.

Settings like haunted castles, remote mansions, and other foreboding environments are typical, serving to heighten the sense of suspense and emotional intensity.

Writing a Gothic Romance Story

Set the Tone. The atmosphere in Gothic Romance oscillates between the chilling whispers of dread and the warm embrace of passionate love. It is an exquisite blend of melancholy, mystery, and a touch of terror, creating a unique emotional experience for the reader. The genre's tone invites us into a world where the line between fear and desire is blurred, and where the darkness outside mirrors the turmoil within the characters' souls. This nuanced emotional palette sets Gothic Romance apart, offering stories that resonate with the complexities of the human condition.

Possible Themes to Include. The theme of Gothic Romantic literature typically revolves around:

the exploration of forbidden desires,

the conflict between good and evil, and

the psychological depth of characters facing extreme situations.

It often delves into the complexities of love, fear, death, and the supernatural, examining how these elements interact within the human experience.

Themes of isolation,

madness, and

the grotesque are also prevalent, offering a profound commentary on the nature of human existence and the boundaries of societal norms.

Character Archetypes to Include. At the heart of every Gothic Romance are its characters—each archetype playing a crucial role in weaving the intricate tapestry of the story.

The Brooding Hero: Often a figure shrouded in mystery and tormented by a dark past, the brooding hero embodies the conflict between darkness and redemption. Despite the shadows that cling to him, his deep, often hidden capacity for love makes him irresistibly compelling.

The Ingenue: Typically young and innocent, the ingenue is thrust into a world filled with secrets and danger. Her journey is one of discovery, not only of the mysteries that surround her but also of her own strength and resilience in the face of adversity.

The Byronic Hero: Charismatic yet flawed, the Byronic hero is marked by intense passions and a disdain for social norms. Driven by a troubled past, he challenges the ingenue and the reader to explore the depths of love, redemption, and the duality of human nature.

Together, these archetypes and the genre's distinctive tone create narratives that are as thrilling as they are emotionally rich, offering readers a deep dive into the dark, yet ultimately redeemable, facets of love and the human spirit.

Tropes to Consider. Gothic Romance thrives on a set of recurring themes and tropes that form the backbone of its narratives. These tropes, ranging from haunted settings to forbidden love, play a pivotal role in shaping the genre's distinctive atmosphere and plot dynamics. Below, we delve into 5 main tropes that are quintessential to Gothic Romance, exploring how they contribute to the genre's allure and depth.

Haunted Mansions/Castles. The setting plays a crucial role in Gothic Romance, often acting as a character in its own right. Haunted mansions and castles, with their hidden passages, secret rooms, and ghostly presences, are more than just backdrops; they mirror the complexity and secrecy of the characters' lives, serving as a metaphor for the human psyche's hidden depths.

Damsel in Distress. While traditionally portrayed as vulnerable and awaiting rescue, the 'damsel in distress' trope in Gothic Romance often undergoes a transformation. These characters evolve from mere victims to resilient survivors, challenging traditional gender roles and highlighting themes of empowerment and inner strength.

The Byronic Hero. A staple of the genre, the Byronic hero is a complex character marked by dark secrets, a troubled past, and a disdain for societal norms. This archetype adds layers of moral ambiguity to the narrative, compelling readers to explore the blurred lines between good and evil, attraction and repulsion.

Mystery and Suspense. The essence of Gothic Romance is sustained by an atmosphere thick with mystery and suspense. From the unraveling of family secrets to the discovery of forbidden knowledge, these elements keep readers on the edge of their seats, eager to explore the shadowy corners of the human heart and the unknown.

Love Beyond Death. Exploring themes of eternal devotion and the supernatural, the 'love beyond death' trope adds a poignant layer to Gothic Romance. It challenges the finality of death, suggesting that love can transcend the grave and bind souls across the divide of life and death, adding a deeply emotional and sometimes spiritual dimension to the narrative.

Together, these tropes weave a rich tapestry that defines Gothic Romance, engaging readers with their complexity, depth, and emotional resonance. Each trope not only serves to enhance the atmospheric tension but also to deepen the exploration of love, fear, and the human condition.

Quirks of Gothic Romance. These can include the pervasive use of symbolism—where storms, darkness, and decay mirror the tumultuous emotions of the characters—and the blending of terror with romance, creating a juxtaposition that heightens the emotional impact of the narrative. Another quirk is the genre's exploration of taboo themes, such as forbidden love or the supernatural, inviting readers to question societal norms and delve into the darker aspects of human nature.

Your Ending. The conclusions of Gothic Romance stories are as varied as the tales themselves, ranging from tragic to redemptive. A few common ending types:

Tragic Endings: Some Gothic Romances conclude with a sense of inevitability, where the fates of the characters are sealed by their actions or circumstances, leaving a poignant commentary on the human condition.

Redemptive Endings: In contrast, other stories may offer a glimpse of hope or redemption, suggesting that love and virtue can prevail even in the darkest of times. These endings often involve characters overcoming their inner demons or external challenges.

Ambiguous Endings: Gothic Romance also embraces ambiguity, leaving readers pondering the fate of the characters and the true nature of the events described. This open-endedness can add depth to the narrative, encouraging readers to engage with the story on a deeper level.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

You can find more details and book recommendations in the sources. Hope this helps with your writing!

[lynxgriffin]

Yeah, the fact that Noelle can equip some swords is fairly ominous! And It's definitely interesting that the shard is one of those few objects that doesn't seem to change between worlds. Just really wonder what is going on with the Knight that they can look like that even jumping between worlds!

Yeah, it's honestly something I really appreciate about the fandom. It's also just a cool time capsule to see what people thought might happen between chapters, and what people prioritized, and then how those priorities and ideas shift with new information. If Undertale was in part a warning to players that overusing a game will detach you from its characters and world, I really feel like Deltarune is an encouragement to engage in fandom in order to take characters beyond what's already been set out for them.

Mmm no, I believe that part of chapter 2 did happen...it showed Queen's car in that scene, and the little bit you do drive her car she literally just has you barrel through everything in the way. That said, it really does feel to me like Susie is the lynchpin to change how the prophecy goes, just based on what Gerson tells her throughout chapter four. What that ending is, though, still don't know.

The images we see describing the heroes are frustratingly vague. Even the silhouette of "the girl" I feel has a duck-or-bunny situation where it could read as Susie facing left with her hair behind her, or Noelle with her hood up and wearing the tattered wings. Hell, I'd even say Ralsei is not 100% certain...during the sermon, Catty describes one of the heroes as being fluffy with horns, and sounding cute. Is that Ralsei or Asriel? Who even knows right now!!

It's hard to focus on because I feel like that could apply to any one of the main characters, or to none at all and something else entirely. All options would be bad!

Heck, right now I'm already afraid of the fact that there is a scary amount of foreshadowing that Kris will lose a hand before we're done!

Geez I have no clue how to choose. Hard to go wrong with Black Knife in chapter four, of course...but I think a lot of my favorite tunes are weighted towards chapter four. From Now On, Hammer of Justice, Gya Ha Ha! are all bangers... Right now I've got Second Sanctuary on repeat. Heck, even 12AM might be my new melancholy "Quiet Water"-esque favorite.

It really does seem to be there's some bigger conspiracy at work with people working with each other in different capacities...Kris and the Knight are involved, Kris and Carol are involved, Carol and the Knight are involved, Asgore is in that mix somewhere as well, and possibly also Alvin?? Honestly I'm going to need a Pepe Silvia corkboard or something to try and work it all out in my mind.

Dragon Blazers is such an interesting aspect of the game, because Dragon Blazers is the in-text media that Deltarune uses to talk about itself. (Cat Petterz almost seems like the inverse of this, the off-the-beaten-path game in comparison to Dragon Blazers' more straightforward adaptation.)

And yeah, that very well could indeed be a reference to something happening to Dess...I think that was a thought some folks had even before the new chapters. The "stay in the party" part could just be about reinterpretation telephone, yeah. It'd be really nice if we had a copy of Lord of the Hammer and knowledge of what happens in Dragon Blazers to compare, but I don't think that'll ever happen.

The prophecy is so vague on both the terms and symbology used that it could refer to Susie and Kris or the Vessel and Noelle. I don't know if we can say for sure that it's not one or the other. I lean towards the latter because I do like the idea that Susie is the wrench in the prophecy, but there's just as much evidence towards the fact that it IS supposed to be about Susie and Kris.

But man, after Susie's whole development where she's so excited about finally being picked for something, about actually being a hero...getting that rug pulled out from under her is going to really hurt if it happens.

[th3r3dw00dtr33]

Strangers || Obey Me! x Reader

I was craving a little angst today. Let me know how I did in the comments! Also, please let me know if you'd like a part two!

TW: Angst, Swearing, Spoilers

READER IS NOT MC .

.

.

Why were you in jail? It wasn't like you did anything illegal, but you'd just so happen to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. You were also terribly unlucky, but that was already a given based on your current predicament...

You were framed with murder.

How you didn't know. Why, you also didn't know. The only thing you knew about the case was the penalty.

They told you themselves: You are to be sent to a place far beyond this plane (a different universe), doomed to be a stranger for the rest of your time there. (This wasn't like the penalties back where you were from, but you didn't want to be stuck in prison for life.)

It seemed light, for a punishment, but you shrugged it off with a 'It's probably normal here.'

But they also told you how you were able to choose where you were to be sent.

You, being the person you were, immediately thought of a game.

You were a part of many fandoms. You loved indulging yourself with these different pieces of media. Of these, Obey Me was a game you particularly liked.

How could you not? The characters were stupidly hot and complex at the same time, and the plot and setting were interesting enough to keep you invested. There were a whole lot of reasons you could list off as to why, but to keep this short:

You loved Obey Me. You loved the characters just as much as MC, if not more.

Which is why you chose that world without a second glance.

Oh, how stupid you were.

.

You had walked out of the shining, blue portal, taking part as a new demon (though you're technically a human) student at RAD. Despite this being a punishment, you had been really excited to finally meet these characters in real life.

Being strangers doesn't mean you couldn't work towards a friendship, right?

You had forgotten this was supposed to be punishment for a murderer, even if you had been framed.

LUCIFER:

He was walking down the halls in a particularly bad mood, after several all-nighters to finish his workload of paperwork.

He turned the corner, making his way to the entrance of the school, greeting the new students who poured in for the new term.

Lucifer handed one student a map of the school, something he and Diavlo should've implemented beforehand, with the increase of new students attending. (MC was an example. Mammon did not do a very good job with the tour.)

The new demon had tried to make small talk, and Lucifer didn't snap, knowing full well how it would impact Diavolo's image.

"This is the map of the school. Please familiarize yourself with the layout of the building." He paused, "I also advise you to keep your thoughts to yourself."

He didn't care about the wording at the time― it's not like it mattered much anyway.

The demon paused, bowed their head and walked away. Looks like they got the hint.

Well, he may have been a bit rude to them on their first day, but he was too prideful to take anything back at that point.

Plus, it was Hell. Demons can take a comment or two.

After some time, he would occasionally see the new student across the hall or in the classroom.

Sometimes he would check on them to see if they were adjusting well, but he didn't bother too much with the demon when he had a human exchange student to watch over.

They never really responded, but he just assumed they were shy.

He didn't bother to ask for their name. When MC had asked him about them, he just let out a "Do you really think I have the time to memorize everyone I meet at RAD? Besides, most of the students here aren't too special. Don't worry too much about them."

He could if he wanted to, but they were just a stranger.

MAMMON:

He met them in one of the two history classes. He forgot which one, but can you blame him?

The second-born had just asked to borrow a pencil, but turns out the demon only had one, so it didn't matter anyway.

When he asked, they had perked up slightly at the question.

He automatically assumed it was because the GREAT Mammon was gracing them with his attention, but this was the only time he actually got it correct.

"Ya don' got a pencil? Lame."

He was cheerful for the rest of the class, despite the fact that the lesson was boring and Lucifer forced him to do it.

He pretends not to notice when they shrink away from his comment.

He pretends that they didn't manage to make him feel important— something his own brothers never tried to accomplish.

But he, too, forgets about them pretty soon.

What can he say? Mammon's a hustler, ya know! He barely remembers the names of those he makes a deal with, let alone a random student in his class!

He would also see the demon occasionally, but they've never exchanged greetings.

When MC asks him about them, after telling him how they felt something was off, he replied, "Come on, MC! Ya can't expect me to remember every face I meet, right?"

He pretends not to notice how they seemed to care about him, despite barely knowing him.

He pretends that ignoring them doesn't impact him at all.

After ignoring them for so long, Mammon truly forgot about their existence. But what can I say? They were just a stranger, after all.

LEVIATHAN:

Leviathan was an anxious wreck.

Lucifer didn't let him participate in the online schooling, with the new year beginning, so he was forced to attend school.

With all these normies...

He hated 'normies' to a certain extent, and being surrounded by so many was getting on his nerves.

Which was why he turned and walked away the moment a demon walked up to him.

He didn't know the demon just wanted to talk a bit, but this was Hell. Demons don't do that without an ulterior motive.

He didn't notice how the demon deflated with a small frown from the reaction. He didn't care— it's not like he knew them.

"Stupid normies," he would mutter as he scurried away to his next class.

Over the next couple of weeks, he would bump into the same demon during the lunch rush. Every. Time.

He would always turn around and walk stiffly away in the opposite direction, even if at times they hadn’t tried to initiate any forms of contact or conversation.

He hated 'normies' like them, and being around demons of this sort would only prove how he was nothing but a stupid otaku.

Oh, how he envied them... it just wasn't fair.

When he had the competition with MC on TSL, he could see them in the audience, watching them― him intently as if they were hoping he would win.

It unnerved him― why were they looking at him like that? They were only strangers; it wasn’t like a 'normie' like them would want to hang out with an otaku like him.

Especially one who avoided them every turn he took.

After the competition (a failure on his part), he found the same demon walking through the halls.

They were trying to comfort him. Him out of all demons?! Leviathan snapped, and he realized too late.

His anger, accompanied by his envy, flared, "Stupid normie, screw off. I don't need your fucking pity, so you'd better suck it before I rip you apart and feed you to Cerberus."

At the time, he didn't care how the demon's face grew alarmed.

He didn't care how their face scrunched up, and they fled the hall.

He only looked back with slight guilt a couple of weeks after, but it was too late. He couldn't find the demon anywhere.

But it was fine― they were just a stranger, right?

SATAN:

The fourth-born was usually found in the library, but this time was different.

Lucifer, his delightful brother, had oh so graciously piled on paperwork to his own workload, effectively shutting down his free time at the library.

As you could probably see, Satan was pissed.

There had been more cursed books he had wanted to check out at the library, but was unable to due to the paperwork.

And this didn't help when a random demon crashed into him and his stack of books.

It was after the TSL competition, and Satan, being the demon who was at his final straw, was seething.

It didn't matter if the demon had apologized and tried to help him pick up and reorder the books. It didn't matter if they already looked hurt and panicked.

"Leave," Satan growled with his wrathful aura, "Leave and watch where you're fucking going next time."

These books were a special part of his collection, and he already had enough to deal with.

The demon had run away, and the fourth-born was left by himself.

Sometime later, in about two days, he would find the same demon sitting in the library.

They looked like they were studying for a test on a topic on which he had a lot of interest.

He didn't bother to ask for their name, nor exchange a greeting.

He didn't even ask if they needed help.

Satan didn't care. It wasn't his business in the first place, unlike with MC, where he felt obligated to help as a member of the House of Lamentation.

He just walked past the demon with a frown, as if the demon were a figment of his imagination.

Had I seen them before?

ASMODEUS:

Asmodeus was the Avatar of Lust.

He didn't truly love anyone but himself (or so he thought), but he cared genuinely for others' physical appearances.

Which is why, when he met a demon after the two-night trip to Diavolo's castle, he gave them tips for their skin routine.

The demon had approached him and asked, obviously shy, and he cheerfully handed them a tube of his extra lotion.

"Everyone deserves to look pretty, but obviously I always look the best~" he had said.

He didn't care about the demon themself, but if someone wanted help on their appearance, who was he to refuse?

He hadn't seen the demon before, so he assumed they were new.

Asmo knows most of the school body, so it was a surprise that he didn't at least know of their name.

Sadly, he was pulled away by his brothers before he could ask.

After a while, he forgot about the situation with the new demon student entirely.

They should understand, shouldn't they? Asmo, being the most beautiful creature there is, couldn't possibly make time for everyone, right?

So when the demon came up to him and thanked him for his advice...

"Oh! Yes, those were basic dos and don'ts of skincare, you shouldn't thank me. Though, have I met you before?"

He prided himself on being able to converse effortlessly with those around him, so it made him cringe internally at how bad it sounded.

His eyes caught the reflection of his face in a nearby mirror, and Asmodeus, the narcissistic and vain fifth-born, was entranced.

How long had he been staring at his reflection?

How long had it been since they had left with a frown on their face?

BEELZEBUB:

Beelzebub was the one who was always hungry.

What can you expect? He is the Avatar of Gluttony, after all.

Something that most demons won't know, however, is how Beelzebub hates seeing someone else hungry.

Sometimes, if he had a lot of food, he would save a little bit. Just a little, enough for them to last a bit.

Which is why when he saw one of the new students sitting in the corner without any food, he assumed they were hungry.

They looked hungry, he'd argue, they aren't eating anything.

The demon wasn't, but they sat straighter when they saw the sixth-eldest walking towards them.

He'd place a singular chocolate bar on the table and slide it towards them.

"You... you look hungry," he would say, and they'd thank him.

If it were any normal demon, the Avatar of Gluttony wouldn't share his food just like that.

But they weren't. They, despite being a demon, reminded him a bit of MC.

It was odd, but he didn't pay it any mind.

For the next couple of weeks, Beelzebub would bring extra food.

If the demon wasn't eating (they said they didn't have enough money for lunch every day), he'd slide them a chocolate bar.

It became a little routine between them, even if they barely knew each other.

He would make his way to the table in the corner every lunch, the one they always sat in.

Even if one day the demon disappeared entirely.

BELPHEGOR:

They didn't meet until a couple of months into the school year.

It was after he killed MC― the last thing he wanted to do was go to school, but it wasn't as bad as it would've been if he were stuck in the attic.

The Avatar of Sloth met the demon during one of those classes with the boring lectures.

They didn't interact much at first, each to their own.

Great, another random demon... was what he thought before— they were both at the back of the classroom, right beside each other.

It took a couple of days before he realized the demon wasn't half bad; they were actually pretty chill.

They watched his back when he dozed off, prodding him awake before the instructor could catch him asleep.

He appreciated that, so he would often give them good dreams so they could be well-rested for the day.

It wasn't until they had a big upcoming test that he grew anxious.

Belphegor had dozed off way too often, causing him to miss important bits of the lectures during class.

He didn't realize the demon who always sat beside him saw his troubled resting expression.

He didn't hear the rustling of papers nearby as they placed down an extra copy of their notes onto his desk, along with a note.

When the youngest of the seven brothers woke up, his eyes fell upon the pages on his desk.

The name [Name] [Lastname] was written on the corner of the first page in a foreign handwriting.

He smiled faintly, tucking the papers into his bag.

When Beelzebub asked him about his mood, he couldn't help but explain everything. (He isn't one to hide things from his twin.)

The day after the test, he placed the papers on the demon— [Name]'s desk, along with a note of his own that expressed his thanks.

[Name] never came.

DIAVOLO:

The Prince of Devildom is a busy man demon.

He has his dreams, his goals, and his ever-increasing paperwork.

The Prince of Devildom is a very busy and important demon, so why would he pay attention to a random student like them?

It wasn't that Diavolo didn't care; he definitely did, but it wasn't like anything about that demon stuck out.

He is a demon who cares about his people and definitely the students in his school. But even if they weren't, he would still care.

Prince Diavolo was like that.

But he was only like that to those he knew and saw.

The new demon student wasn't one of them.

Once, they had been running down the halls and nearly bumped into him.

At the time, Barbatos hadn't really moved, much to Diavolo's surprise. Perhaps he saw something..?

Probably, but his attention was snapped back to the demon who bowed their head and apologized profusely.

"Ahaha! It's alright, just watch where you're going next time and try not to run in the halls."

After that, he didn't really see the demon much.

They had always been so nervous around him; he just didn't want to scare them too much.

Soon after, that interaction was drowned by the other memories and plans he had until it vanished.

MC had asked about the demon, but Diavolo didn't know and redirected the question to Barbatos.

They were just a stranger, after all.

BARBATOS:

The Prince's butler never interacted with the demon.

He was also very busy helping Diavolo and the maintenance on the castle.

Yet, he saw the demon in one of his visions.

He knew how they were framed, how they were sent from another universe, how they were just a human.

But he never dared to say anything.

He never told Diavolo exactly what happened, just said that there would be some surprising information arriving soon.

He saw how they had loved them as characters in their world. Saw how they chose this as a hopeful act.

He also saw how this punishment would break them.

When MC had asked him about them, a thought struck his mind.

Why would he let them break like this?

Oh, right.

Barbatos didn't say anything because he didn't want to disrupt the flow of time again.

That's what he told himself.

He did it for MC because he loved them, but he wouldn't risk such a thing for them.

He didn't have the right to do this again.

"This was supposed to happen."

After all, they had nothing between them. They were merely strangers.

Things like this happen to strangers all the time.

SIMEON:

Simeon had a neutral feeling towards demons.

He doesn't hate them, nor does he particularly like them.

Don't get me wrong, he is mistrustful of demons with no particular connection to the demons he's known, like that demon student.

They shared a couple of classes together, along with that one lecture with Belphegor, and he always noticed them at the back.

Don't think he didn't caught on to their little routine of one sleeping and the other keeping watch.

In his opinion, after taking note of their behaviour, the demon had a great personality.

He would've dismissed them as a human or angel if it weren't for their demonic aura. Which was weird in of itself.

The two actually met when the demon had accidentally bumped into him.

While Luke was busy scolding them for not watching their step, Simeon took this as an opportunity.

"It's quite alright, Mx," he would ask, "May I know your name?"

He found them interesting and a great influence for Luke, though the latter may pout and whine at first.

They were much nicer than he expected, honestly, and (much to his surprise), they were very polite and apologized.

Over the next weeks, he would sometimes find the demon, whom he came to know as [Name] [Lastname], sitting in the back of classrooms.

He would exchange greetings, but even the older angel wouldn't say much afterwards.

They were still a stranger, after all.

LUKE:

Luke disliked demons. Greatly.

He was an angel who reported directly to Michael, and so he shouldn't be the one who joined Simeon at RAD!

I mean, he was right!

These good-for-nothing demons keep calling him a dog! A dog!

He met the nice demon when they accidentally bumped into Simeon.

They had been rounding the corner, and the demon was carrying a stack of papers for a teacher.

"Hey! Watch where you're going! As an angel who..." he gave a minute-long talk about watching where they're going.

He hadn't expected the demon to apologize― so genuinely, too!

Well, this demon was a lot nicer than the others... but don't tell Simeon he said that!

He didn't know their name, but they became one of the demons, the only demon he actually felt safe with.

It was odd; they acted so much like humans instead of demons.

They even patted his head when he said he missed the Celestial Realm!

Luke pretended not to notice when a fight broke out among a group of demons.

He didn't notice when the very demon who patted his head was running away from the group with bruises and scratches littered all over their arms and legs.

Looking back at it, if he had helped, would they have stayed?

In the end, they were nothing but a stranger.

SOLOMON:

Solomon was practically the strongest sorcerer both alive and to ever exist.

He was one of the exchange students at RAD, wandering about the halls of the school.

The classes and lectures the teachers gave here were things the sorcerer had already known or experienced himself.

Yet there were two things that grabbed his attention.

One, being how MC had made pacts with most of the Seven Avatars, something he had struggled to accomplish.

Second, being the demon whom he had come across earlier, who helped another with a kindness he'd never seen in a demon before.

The first one was frustrating, the second was just weird.

He observed the demon from afar, taking note of how they were often overlooked by the demons around him.

He took note of the one thing everyone around him said when he asked about them: they were a stranger.

Solomon knew demons very well, having made a pact with seventy-two.

This... person was no demon. He was sure of it.

Creating a demonic aura is a hard spell to cast, even for me... he thought, They have little aptitude for magic within them... I wonder who cast it.

He never approached them, researching on what they were instead of who.

When they disappeared one day, he could only chuckle.

That demon was still a stranger, despite his observations.

MC:

MC is someone who has had both great luck and horrible misfortune.

From making pacts with the demon brothers to getting killed by Belphegor in the attic, they've seen a lot of weird occurrences during their stay in the Devildom.

They've never expected a demon to save them from being eaten.

Especially one who had the task of taking their soul.

MC had been on their way to one of their classes when they were cornered by a group of demons.

But the demon had told them off and helped MC to get on their feet.

MC was confused, but grateful nonetheless.

They later knew their name as [Name] [Lastname], but their rush to different classes soon disrupted their time of getting to know each other.

MC asked Lucifer, Mammon, Diavolo, and lastly, Barbatos.

It felt weird to them that none of the demons gave them a proper answer.

Barbatos made them feel like he was hiding something.

The next time they saw them, [Name] was running from the same group of demons who had cornered MC earlier.

They had tears streaming down their face with cuts and bruising littering their limbs.

But MC had been busy talking to Simeon and Luke, and they pretended not to notice.

They found them, a day later, stepping through a portal of blue.

It made them think, in another world, could they've been friends?

It was a shame, they realized, that they were merely strangers in this one.

.

.

.

[Name] [Lastname] hated this place.

The Devildom was horrible.

They had been ignored, looked over, bullied, hungry...

Why were they here again?

A blue portal popped up in front of them. Oh, right, they were framed for murder.

The people had found the real murderer and sent for [Name] to be retrieved.

They were a bit too late, anyways.

.

.

.

Diavolo was sent a letter regarding the disappearance of one of his students.

Usually, if someone went missing, there would be a report of them moving, expelled, or dead.

There was none for [Name] [Lastname] until now.

Diavolo didn't know whether or not to be relieved, shocked, disappointed, or frustrated.

Word got out among the exchange students and the RAD student council.

Some didn't care, others felt guilty.

Diavolo couldn't help but scoff.

In the end, despite all of [Name]'s unseen efforts, they were still nothing but a stranger.

[august-anon]

look i love a good truth spell/truth serum fic, esp in the batfam fandom because none of these assholes know how to communicate with each other at ALL kjdsfhkjdfh

but think of all the possibilities of a truth spell/serum mixed with tickling/teasing like

is the spell/serum one that forces truth as a compulsion? where you cant help but blurt out the truth and resisting is futile/painful and you have no choice?

is the spell/serum one where you can choose not to answer, but if you speak at all anything that comes out will be the truth and you cant physically lie?

but no matter what mixing that with tickling is the best sdkjfhsdf like, they cant even protest without meaning it (and you know i hc literally all characters ever to enjoy being tickled, so, lol)

and maybe its even to the point where you cant hide/mask reactions because that is, in a way, lying -- omg. so many possibilities

(rest of the more detailed hcs under the cut because this got long, but who is even surprised because this is Me we're talking about KJSDFHJDH)

bruce getting hit and alfred performing an injury check once he gets back to the cave and he accidentally hits some ticklish spots and bruce cant hide it like usual because of the spell/serum and he's like "hey!" and wants to tell alfred to stop it or cut it out or something, but he cant, because that would be a lie because he's still that little boy that always wanted to play tickle monster with Thomas and Martha (and sometimes Alfred, once the grief became manageable, in rare times Alfred dropped the propriety) and he still thinks its fun. and alfred can tell and just smiles indulgently, sneaking some more in here and there under the guise of the injury check

dick getting hit and he already knows his siblings are going to be hounding him with questions because theyre little shits like that, and he complains about it during the batmobile ride home (which Bruce actually went with him on because dick was real out of it for a bit there and Bruce had been pretty worried). bruce isnt gonna ask him questions, at least not until he can be fully monitored, but he hums here and there to respond, and dick is of course fluent in Batman Grunt Language so theyre able to have a full conversation and you cant tell me dick is not adhd so theyre jumping topics like crazy but bruce has learned to follow his train of thought by now. and somehow tickling gets touched upon, maybe a childhood memory or smth, and dick tries to say something about it being so annoying or smth like that but he chokes on the words because he cant lie and whoops, bruce definitely knew that when dick was a kid (he wasnt shy about it, he was an attention seeking kid) but definitely didnt know it continued once he grew up. he definitely makes it clear that he's putting that one in his back pocket, and dick whines about how its embarassing, but when asked if he wants bruce to forget it, he cant lie and say yes because he does miss the affection of a tickle-attack from his father figure

jason who gets hit and keeps snapping at everyone to stop asking him questions because of course theyre asking embarrassing shit, who wouldn't. and dick is the most annoying of all like "do you REALLY hate it when i hug you??" and he's got the compulsion type so he tries to bite his tongue for a bit but eventually cant take it anymore and spits out a rage-filled "no" and dick gasps and starts grinning like the cat that caught the canary and starts going through all the types of affection he can think of "do you actually hate when i kiss your forehead?" "do you actually hate when i spam you with tiktoks?" "do you actually hate when i force you to come to movie nights?" "do you actually hate when i get you to cuddle?" and of course the answer to all of these is no, Jason doesnt actually hate it, but goddammit he's got a reputation to keep and he cant have his siblings all thinking he's gone soft (luckily alfred had kicked out everyone but dick by now, because dick was SUPPOSED to be monitoring jason's symptoms, but instead he was being Obnoxious) and then he gets to the worst one of "do you actually hate when i tickle you?" and jason doesnt know if its more or less incriminating that he tries to hold back his answer for as long as he does, but eventually he has to give in to the "no" trying to escape from his body. and dick has never looked so smug or evil and jason knows he's never living this down. especially not when dick gets into questions like "do you like it when i tease you?" or "why do you like it when i tickle you?" Jason swears, the second this wears off, Dick is gonna regret ever being born

tim gets hit and he's got the kind where he doesnt even realize fully he's speaking the truth. he's super chatty, cant stop talking, just keeps dropping more information. almost like he's high actually, but not quite, he's still mostly aware he just. cant really stop talking much and doesnt care to lol, but all of it has to be the truth. and so his family guides the conversation further away from the angstier stuff and more towards silly or non-important stuff. like, what game has he been playing recently, his favorite foods, what he thinks of this or that movie.... the movie part, of course, gets them talking about movie nights in general, and tim talks about how much he loves it when they do a blanket fort night because everyone gets to be all cozy in a pile together and even after all these years he's still a little touch/affection starved (yes i know thats extremely fanon characterization but leave me alone KDFKDF), and he talks about how much he loves it when dick or bruce will give him back tickles and hair pets/head scratches if he manages to cuddle up to one of them during movie night. and because tim is in word vomit mode, he just keeps going, and he talks about how fun he finds tickling in general and how he wished it happened more because it shuts his brain off and he likes the playful affection and spending time with his siblings and/or father figure. everyone makes Extreme note of this, and tim is mortified once its worn off, but he cant really complain when he gets more cuddles, tickle attacks, AND prime back tickles/hair pets/back scratches every movie night from then on, even Jason joining in sometimes

damian gets hit and its a mix of these, he's not exactly high and its not exactly a compulsion he can resist, but he's just spouting the truth when asked and its clear he finds it annoying and is already exhausted. he's still a little wobbly so dick helps him out of the batmobile and into the medbay and up onto a cot, and in getting him on the cot he hits a few ticklish places and damian cant quite hold back his reactions while under the affects of the spell/serum and he flinches and giggles a little. and dick smiles because his baby brother is so cute, but does apologize because he really wasnt meaning too that time and he knows damian is dealing with the spell/serum right now. and damian mutters out a little "dont really mind" as he settles on the cot, and then flushes right up to his ears. and dick resists the urge to coo or laugh fondly because he knows that would not be taken well right now, but he does do his stupid bright grin. and damian is like "i dont suppose we can forget this interaction" and dick is like "not on your life, baby bat. but dont wory, youre safe for now" but damian knows as soon as the spell/serum has worn off and he's gotten some rest, his ticklishness is fair game

[ihopesocomicask]

Do you think it's possible to make a main protagonist of a story, who was an abusive person just like Vicious was, be likable? like, keeping the fact that they won't be forgiven by their victim, but at the same time exploring them actually evolving and becoming a better person and creating new healthy relationships. Not to pat abusers on the head, but yk, something like "You can choose to CHANGE". Because ngl I keep thinking about Vicious' future. I know she won't die and thankfully she will get out of Jasper's abuse, but what then? Would she go on a journey to realize her mistakes and act differently? Who knows.

I see a lot of people talking about Bojack Horseman, but I don't know if it's a good example because apparently the point of his character is to be a hypocrite who acts like the victim for everything that happens while continuing to ruin his relationships (I've never watched it so sorry if I might be saying shit lol 😭). I even know that there is a moment where he almost takes advantage of an underage girl, and while I do believe in change and growth, there are things that have limits for me ofc

There's likeable and then there's sympathetic and/or relatable.

Bojack Horseman as a character is relatable to a lot of folks but there has certainly been a crossroads when it comes to people who relate to him excusing his behaviour because x, y or z happened to him and completely missing the point of Todd blowing up on him and then there's people who still relate to him but feel he needs to be held accountable for his actions in order to improve himself.

And they're absolutely correct. A main reason why Bojack failed to improve is because he was stuck in an endless cycle of victimisation and feeling like he was not responsible for his actions for whatever reason. Namely the abuse he suffered at the hands of his parents. Only he's not that child anymore. He's an adult and he's very much responsible for his actions.

Like I will openly admit that I was an utter asshole to people online years ago because I didn't have a very nice home life and I was dealing with undiagnosed autism and mental health issues. I felt powerless and being a confrontational prick online gave me power. Bojack certainly works in a similar manner. His celebrity status gives him the power to act out in ways he never could as a child and whatever regret he feels is purely a sense of apprehension that his celebrity status and the power/respect it grants will be taken away from him. It's very selfish and it's why he didn't grow at all until his actions were exposed. And he certainly would've been doomed to keep things going had he not gone for that second interview. Especially as a college professor, given his history.

I can't speak for everybody who says they wish that second interview hadn't happened and Bojack may or may not have improved on his own but - from my perspective - he would've just used his newfound confidence and power as an 'advocate' for addiction to harm others, especially indirectly. The indirectness already happens with audience members of the show who feel Bojack justifies their problematic behaviour.

And this is something you have to be especially wary of if you wish to pursue this kind of topic: your character being used to validate the negative behaviour of others. Bojack's writers did a great job of making it clear that - while sympathetic - Bojack needed to be held accountable for his actions and needed to improve. People can view that as a negative thing all they want but they are not the kind of people the writers wanted the approval of anyway and they're not really worthy of anybody else's approval either imho.

And we also have to recognise that change doesn't automatically come with forgiveness either. Going back to Bojack again, I feel Herb would've absolutely entertained having a friendship with him once more if Bojack had accepted he was not entitled to forgiveness. It's just the kind of character Herb is. Charlotte, on the other hand, would've been 110% right to have Bojack tossed in jail as a mother. It all depends on the character and the nature of the deed. Like you've already pointed out, there are limitations. And it's also why Vicious will never have access to Hope or Adamant again. - RJ

[alanwakemeup]

So. The polar opposite takes on Walker got me watching TFATWS. I honestly didn't expect to come out of this event feeling so conflicted and so impressed with John's arc at the same time. So, what follows is my take. More ramble than take, really.

What bugs me with this show most is that if you look closely, you can see some good ideas, but the execution? All over the place. I often see the claim that John Walker was intended to be the villain of the show, and that he became a good character by accident, despite the best efforts of the writers not to.

But can you "accidentally" write a scene for your despicable villain where he, alone with his best friend and his wife, admits that he's not sure he can be a worthy successor to Captain America, and that he's afraid of letting people down? Can he "accidentally" say that he got his medals for doing horrible things, and only after receiving the title did he felt like he could start doing something good? Can you "accidentally" write a scene where he, at rock bottom, disgraced, and motivated only by revenge, faced with the choice of taking that revenge or saving lives, chooses to give it up in favor of helping people?

Why do these scenes go unnoticed, and after the show, many people are left with only John Walker as an arrogant, bloodthirsty jerk who got what he deserved?

The first reason: because the show has a rather complicated relationship with nuance, especially in the visual part. The second reason is much more interesting: because from the very first glance, the viewer can't stand John Walker and waits for him to stumble and prove his unworthiness. And Walker stumbles, all the time. John is straightforward, nervous, rude, surprisingly arrogant and insecure at the same time, and if he tries to play a nice guy, it looks fake.

And this is weighed down by the visuals.

A cheap-looking suit with an uncomfortable helmet. Angles that make Walker's face look either stupid or predatory - always rough, uncouth. Walker himself, grinning crookedly, tilting his head to the side like a dog, easily exploding ugly when provoked. And, yeah, it is quite difficult to feel sympathy for such a person, especially if this person is trying to replace someone, who was better at everything.

And this works very well for John Walker, the character.

Because despite all the repulsive qualities, this is a man who is trying. To be worthy, to be good, to be better. And fails miserably. And makes things worse. And then tries again and again, even when no one will appreciate or notice.

I really like the scene where Walker tries to pull hostages to safety, and especially the fact that he fails to do it. Because he wasn't letting go until the very end, even when attacked: he was literally torn away from the van. And when Walker throws down his shield to try to save a life, it doesn’t mean that he becomes worthy or unworthy of the title of Captain America, it means that he becomes something else and something of his own.

[jolluxiscool]

Welcome to my G4 infodump, info under the cut!1!1!

Okay

G4 is actually some sort of entity that slowly grew obsessed with Classic smg4. They saw them from above, enjoying the show like it was a sit-com and not someone's actual life.

After some time, smg4 matured and moved on, becoming more dramatic and meeting new people. "G4" However, did not like this. So they waited for everything to go back to normal. Eventually, their patience ran thin and they said "fuck it if they're not gonna go back then im doing it myself"

And thus, G4 was born. He took SMG4's old body and replaced him. "Where's smg4?" You might ask. And the answer is im thinking it he's missing.

Despite this, G4 is way too powerful and the vessel cannot contain him completely, which makes him very unstable and causes him to pop out of it very violently often.

His main goal is to make everything go back as it was in the classic era, for this purpose he's aid by his powers:

• Do you know that chapter where Granddad showed up from the bootleg dimension and started making everything bootleg? Imagine that but classic era and way creepier.

G4 stares down at whatever he wishes to change to how it used to look, and it does after a very messy transformation. This is not exclusive to objects — living beings can be affected too. And it is excruciatingly painful. If an object doesn't have an old form it dissapears and potentially dies. (Yikes!)

For his luck this is not a "midas touch" situation and he's able to choose what he wants to modify.

•Hes able to possess empty vessels which can be both dead or souless (The last being SMG4's old design's case) unluckily, his presence inside one alters certain aspects of it, such as:

- Changing colors and/or making them darker

- Having smaller pupils and irises becoming pitch black

- Presenting spiral patterns in the body (You can see G4's if you mess around with brightness and contrast!)

However, they have their disadvantages:

•If G4 was killed, every change he made would've reversed.

•Having a vessel limits his powers and free will - If the vessel is hurt, he feels the pain and suffers its consequences.

• When he has no vessel he can't interact with anything or anyone, he can't even use his powers!

He tries his best to act as much as classic SMG4 as possible. His personality, his attitude, his acts. And he nails it! Its the appearance what gives him away.

He's aware that he's not truly 4, but he takes the role very seriously. If he's called out he glares at whoever said it until they either take it back or he considers the warning got trough. He wants to live his little dream of the show going on and when something threatens it he doesn't take it lightly. If someone refuses to play along he first tries to force them into doing so and lastly resorts to violence (But funny violence!! Like in the chapters!!! Even if they got seriously hurt, they'll be fine! Thats how this world's rules work after all. And we can't let the mask slip.)

some lil trivia cause why not:

•He's able to float but prefers not to to not raise any further suspicion

•Melony was the first one he got rid of.

•His name is not actually "G4". That's just a nickname given to differentiate him from the real SMG4.

•Mario is his fav character and he loves him but he bottles it up cause the character is more important.

• If he saw the actual classic SMG4 he would start fanboying very hard lol.

•He can talk but it sounds really messed up. Something like Noli but if it was SMG4 brainrot instead. For this reason, he communicates via subtitles that show up for whoever he's talking to. This power even trascends dimensions for some reason he doesn't comprehend but he's glad for it.

•Talking of subtitles, he stole SMG4's.

[esotericarchivist]

hello so, I just wanted to ask something I've been seeing in every post of shifting

How can we use awareness to shift? What exactly is awareness? I've been 'trying' to shift for five years and I only managed "almosts" three times, I'm kind of tired of it I just want to understand what you guys say about awareness, I feel like that's the answer for everything

🪻 ₊ ⊹ what is awareness (for shifting)?

(there's a direct exercise for it at the end of this post. it'll be a long read but i made it worth your while. be mindful when reading, and do not force any of my words to be true for you.)

you are awareness. wow, shocker.

that’s how you can shift, how you manifest.

you may be mistaken and think you're not awareness when you identify with your physical body, or your emotions, or your misconceived ego-mind, an identity solely based in this reality. awareness, sometimes known as consciousness, is behind the scenes, all the time—not your body, not your emotions, but the one that does the “manifesting,” the one that shifts, the one that chooses. always neutrally observing, it's what you really are. when in the void state, you're pure awareness.

let me explain more:

🪻 ₊ ⊹your reality:

preface:

your reality is created by awareness and assumptions, both together.

how do some people seem like life is set on easy mode for them, while for others, like they just can't catch a break? assumptions.

your assumptions create reality. everyone's assumptions are different: ergo, people experience completely different realities, even if they're metaphorically given the exact same physical tools.

quick little tangent on assumption: it's what is actually true for you. assumption is a misleading word: it’s law. that's how you manifest, in fact, that's how everything exists. assumptions are not beliefs or hopes, no, they are absolute law. they are how things have to work, like how when you drop a spoon you naturally assume it will hit the ground. there's no question about it.

to assume differently, you become aware of the new assumption's reality, in the present moment. shifting happens in the present moment, too: it's as simple or complex as you assume it to be. everything in your physical reality is made manifest by an assumption, which isn't a belief or wish. an assumption is how things are.

part one:

many of you have the idea that the physical world creates you, when instead, you are the one that constantly influences and creates the physical world. all of it. but not the you that you think. that's awareness' job, and not your ego. because awareness is infinite, and ego is just one of many creations.

you don't think of identifying with one part of your body and ignoring all the others, and yet you do the same when you imagine you are your egominded self, your personality, or your body.* right now, you're aware of the assumptions that make up your entire reality. you are always navigating awareness.  (*excerpt from seth.)

and as awareness, not your body or physical identity, you can change your reality without clinging to it. but sometimes that takes a change in identity, for you to understand who you are. if you're stuck believing that you are impermanent, that you're your ego, your fearful thoughts, not a lot can change because you're fighting this fake identity for change it can't give you.

but really, you are aware. you simply are. your true self is the act of being.

like an actor in a play. you can take on any role, but to lose yourself in one of your characters and think you are them is to deny your true self.

chances are, a thought comes up and you think it is you. you are used to gauging knowledge, and your reactions, from what you feel, from what thought tells you, and reacting to that.

i ask you now, where do your thoughts come from? can you observe and find the entrance, the beginning, the end of your thoughts?

now, look within yourself. where is your identity? where is a solid, observable "you"? where is your self? instead, you'll find you're constantly observing your own inner workings, observing and having reactions to thought. it's so instinctual that you might even truly believe you are your thoughts, that you exist as ego behind your eyes. but that isn't you.

        “The most crucial mistake we make is turning to thought to know who we are. Unfortunately, philosopher René Descartes’s famous statement “I  think, therefore I am” is often misunderstood to mean “I am my thinking,”  or “I am a thinker.” When we identify ourselves as our thoughts, we become anxious, isolated, and obsessively caught in our own self-images and stories. To grow beyond afflictive consciousness, we need to experience awake awareness, the feeling of “am” that is not thought based.”

excerpt from "shift into freedom" by loch kelly

🪻 ₊ ⊹why you aren't your physical body:

first of all, the fact you can shift to have a totally different body says enough.

you're not your body here, and you're not your body there. not to mention the fact you can manifest different physical features. but if your body and your reality are moldable like clay, what's the thing doing the sculpting? what's the constant, what's always there no matter what? what's the thing that shifts? awareness.

to use an example, awareness is the phrase "i am." fully neutral, attached to no identity or thing, awareness simply is. it's not really something that can be explained with logic, because it’s simple in its complexity. it truly just is. i had to accept it, experience it, instead of trying to understand it, and then i understood. it's infinite: that's how you can shift. if you put anything after that phrase, you assume and create that reality.

"i am y/n" is your current concept of self, which you are assuming. "I am" is awareness, and everything after "i am" is the creation of awareness. you are experiencing a body and identifying with it, identifying with your thoughts, your emotions, but those aren't you---you're just aware of them. the reason high-stress situations are so stressful is because we bank our identity into them.

when you watch someone in a drama tv show, you might laugh and cry with them, enjoy that experience, but you aren't threatened by their emotional distress because you know you aren't them. you're just watching, and you're solid in your identity as the observer of the tv show, not an active participator.

however, some people may look at the tv and feel personally threatened: those are the ones who yell at the tv and get heated when their favorite team loses a game. their identity is placed inside the tv, with the game, whatever: they're failing to recognize that they aren't the events of the tv, or even the tv itself. that is what causes most problems.

they're personally threatened by the "fake" events on the tv, even though it seems obvious that they can just change the channel, or calm down by realizing that their sense of self isn't tied to, or threatened, by that loss. do you understand?

as a shifter, as the observer, you understand you're experiencing, and you can flip the channel when you want. you don't identify or feel threatened by your physical reality or your emotions, because you know you aren't them, you know you created this, and you have the power to change. you're experiencing, you're aware of them.

i can't really give you a black & white example of how to further understand, because it's deeply personal for everyone, depending on their assumptions of how it works. assumptions are law. that's why everyone has different methods to shift.

🪻 ₊ ⊹ quote on realizing your own power:

"You make your own reality, or you do not. And if you do not, then you are everywhere a victim, and the universe must be an accidental mechanism appearing with no reason. So that the miraculous picture you have seen of your body came accidentally into creation, and out of some cosmic accident attained its miraculous complexity. And that body was formed so beautifully for no reason except to be a victim. That is the only other alternative to forming your own reality. You cannot have a universe in between. You have a universe formed WITH a reason, or a universe formed WITHOUT a reason. And in a universe of reason, there are no victims. Everything has a reason or nothing has a reason. So, choose your side!" -seth

🪻 ₊ ⊹ final note:

when you feel consumed by your thoughts, or doubts, observe them, observe the bodily reactions that come up. don't do anything: just watch. then ask yourself, what is observing the thought, what is aware of it? let yourself spread into awareness of that.

a thought may come up, “i am angry,” but what is “i” and how can you BE that emotion?

moreover, intrusive thoughts are my favorite example — how can thinking be a part of our identity if we experience unpleasant, unwanted, unprompted thoughts? how can our own identity be so out of our control at times? linking identity, self, to said thoughts is exactly why intrusive thinking is so unpleasant, because we think it says something about us. we think it is us. but what does the linking? what is choosing to identify with the ego-mind?

awareness.

🪻 ₊ ⊹ exercise one for awake awareness: if this post gets enough traction/if enough people are interested, i'll post the other exercises in the book ^^ this one's fully unedited, a complete excerpt from the book on awareness "shift into freedom" by loch kelly

"GLIMPSE 1: No Problem"

        "This exercise is a direct pointer for shifting out of ego-identification and into awake awareness as your ground of Being. Most people feel a sense of underlying dissatisfaction that leads to craving and aversion, which is created by ego-identification. From ego-identification, we then try to solve the problem of mistaken identity by changing things in our personality or our environment. This creation of a problem-solver identity is what binds us and blinds us to the freedom that’s already here.  It creates a frantic continual search, like looking for your glasses when they’re on your head.

        In this practice, you’ll discover that you can shift out of your mistaken identity in a moment. The goal is not to escape the normal issues and choices in your daily life, but to shift out of the mistaken problem-solver identity. When you make that shift and discover awake awareness as the ground of Being, you’ll have fewer troubles and can more easily solve daily challenges.

        1. When you’re ready, put the book down and, with open or closed eyes, say this question to yourself internally: What is here now if there is no problem to solve?

        2. Rest and remain alert to who or what is experiencing.

        3. Who is here? What is aware? What is here when there is nowhere to go and nothing to do? Nothing to know or create or become? What is here, just now, when you are not the problem solver?

        4. Feel into whatever shows up here and now. Who or what is aware? What is here when there is no referencing the past, no going one moment into the future, when you’re not settling into sleep and not going up to thought? What’s here now? What’s it like when there’s no problem to solve just now? What do you notice? What is absent? What essential qualities are revealed?

        5. Again, put your reading down. Take a breath and pause. Then ask with a beginner’s mind and curiosity: What is here now if there is no problem to solve?" i hope this helps!! <3, kat

full credits and my most genuine thanks to jester for his word, his help, for his advice: i wouldn't be without him. 🃏

[kittenlittle24]

Chapter 9: A Charged Silence

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Pedro Pascal x Fem!reader

Summary: Pre-med perfectionist [Your Name] thought her gap year internship at The Late Night Hour would be a fun, low-stakes break before med school. Then she literally runs into Pedro Pascal backstage—and somehow becomes his secret lifeline in the chaos of live TV. Between cue cards, coffee runs, and chemistry that won’t quit, she starts to wonder: is this just a summer detour… or something more?

Tag list: @pascal-mynightlyobsession @wanniiieeee @theendwhereibegin

Your eyelids fluttered open to the pale glow of morning light sliding through Pedro's floor-to-ceiling windows. His arm was a dead weight around your waist, his chest pressed warm against your back, his breathing still slow with sleep. For one hazy moment, you let yourself pretend today wasn't the day he'd leave.

Then his phone buzzed on the nightstand.

He groaned into your shoulder, his grip tightening. "No."

You twisted to check the screen. "Seven-fifteen."

"Bullshit." His voice was gravel-rough, his lips dragging lazily down the curve of your neck. "Tell the plane to fuck off."

You laughed, but it dissolved into a gasp as his hand slid up your ribcage, calloused fingertips tracing the dip of your waist. "Pedro—"

"Mm?" He kissed the hinge of your jaw, unhurried, like time didn't exist.

"You have a flight."

"Later." He rolled you onto your back, his body slotting against yours with practiced ease. His hair was a disaster, his stubble scraping your cheek as he kissed you—deep and slow, as if he could memorize the shape of your mouth. You arched into him, fingers tangled in his curls, the world narrowing to the heat of his palms and the way he sighed your name against your lips.

When you finally broke apart, breathless, he nuzzled your nose. "Coffee can wait."

You pulled him back down.

By the time you made it to the kitchen, the sun had climbed higher, gilding the stainless steel of Pedro's absurdly fancy espresso machine. He moved through the space like he owned it (he did), all barefoot confidence and sleep-soft smiles as he poured coffee, nudging your hip with his own when you reached for the creamer.

"You're burning the bacon," you said, nodding to the pan where smoke curled ominously.

He swore, flipping the charred strips with a wince. "Distracted."

"By what?" You stole a sip from his mug—bitter, no sugar, just like him.

His grin was wolfish. "By you. In my shirt." His gaze dragged over the oversized fabric hanging off your shoulder. "It's a problem."

You rolled your eyes but let him crowd you against the counter, his hands bracketing your hips as he kissed you again, lazy and sweet with the taste of coffee.

Later, you sat cross-legged on his bed, Pedro's script spread across your lap as you scribbled in the margins. He paced the room, tossing clothes into his duffel with haphazard precision.

"This line's weird," you said, frowning. "Would your character really say 'I'd die for you' like it's nothing?"

Pedro paused, looking up from a tangle of charger cables. "What's wrong with it?"

"It's too easy. Love's not about grand gestures—it's about showing up." You scratched out the line, rewriting it. "I'd choose you every time."

He stared at you, something unreadable flickering in his dark eyes. Then he was kneeling on the bed, caging you in, the script forgotten as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. "How do you always know?"

Your breath hitched. "Know what?"

"What I'm trying to say."

Before you could answer, his phone buzzed—another reminder. One hour left.

The car arrived too soon.

Pedro lingered in the doorway, his duffel slung over one shoulder, his free hand cradling your face. His thumb traced your cheekbone like he was memorizing you.

"I'll call you when I land," he said, voice thick.

You nodded, biting your lip to keep it from trembling.

He kissed you one last time—slow, desperate, his fingers tangled in your hair—then pulled back just enough to whisper:

"Te amo."

The words hung between you, soft and unintended. His breath caught. Your stomach dropped.

A beat of stunned silence.

"Uh—" Your brain short-circuited. "Have a safe flight. Send pictures."

Pedro blinked, his ears turning pink. "Fuck. I—yeah. Yeah, of course."

The air crackled with something electric and awkward. He cleared his throat, adjusted his bag strap, stared at the floor like it held the secrets of the universe.

"Okay," he muttered. "Bye."

The door clicked shut behind Pedro.

You stood frozen in his apartment, surrounded by the remnants of him—half-empty coffee cups, rumpled sheets, the script still open to your rewritten line—heart pounding like you'd just lost something you hadn't known you could have.

Outside, the car pulled away.

Silence.

For three heartbeats, you stood frozen in his loft, your skin still buzzing where he'd touched you. The bed smelled like him—coffee and that stupid expensive cologne. Your tank top was draped over the arm of his chair. Your sandals by his door.

Te amo.

You moved suddenly, grabbing your scattered clothes. The shorts from the floor. The bra dangling off the closet doorknob. The hair tie you'd left on the bathroom sink—no, don't leave traces—but your fingers hesitated before snatching it up.

Keys. Phone. Breathe.

The elevator ride down to the parking garage took a lifetime.

The steering wheel burned under your grip. You cranked the AC up full blast, but it did nothing for the heat crawling up your neck.

Your phone buzzed in the cup holder.

Pedro: [Photo of sad airport breakfast sandwich]

Pedro: This should be a war crime.

The forced casualness made your teeth ache. You could see him—knee bouncing in some plastic terminal chair, thumb hovering over send.

You swallowed hard and typed:

You: At least you're not stuck on the 405.

The freeway stretched ahead, sunlight glinting off chrome. All you could see was the way his throat had worked when he realized what he'd said. The way his fingers had trembled—just slightly—when they brushed your cheek.

You didn't knock. Just threw open the door hard enough to make the framed photos rattle.

Lena nearly dropped her smoothie. "Jesus fucking—"

Before she could finish, you blurted it out:

"Pedro said te amo and I told him to have a safe flight like some kind of Delta Airlines customer service rep."

Silence.

Lena slowly set down her drink. "Oh, honey."

You collapsed onto her couch while she poured wine straight into your mouth.

Your phone buzzed:

Pedro: [Selfie making a pained face]

Pedro: They just played the Mandalorian theme over airport speakers.

Lena snorted. "He's reaching."

You: Sounds like karma for stealing my sunglasses.

Pedro: [Photo of said sunglasses on his face]

Pedro: Finders keepers.

Lena grabbed your phone. "Oh no he didn't—"

The texts escalated:

Pedro: Boarding now.

Pedro: [Photo of boarding pass with YOUR NAME as emergency contact]

Lena's jaw dropped. "This man is down catastrophic."

You groaned into a throw pillow.

Pedro: Airplane mode.

Pedro: [Last-second blurry selfie of him pretending to sleep]

You were officially out of excuses.

The last text sat heavy in your hands, the image of Pedro's sleepy smirk blurring as your vision doubled. Lena's couch creaked when she sat beside you, pressing a fresh glass of wine into your shaking fingers.

"Okay," she said softly, bumping her shoulder against yours. "Tell me everything from the beginning."

You took a shuddering breath. Outside, the afternoon sun painted golden stripes across Lena's hardwood floors—the same sunlight that was probably streaming through Pedro's airplane window right now, glinting off the stolen sunglasses still perched on his nose.

Somewhere between the wine and the way your phone kept lighting up with notifications from his delayed flight, the truth settled in your chest like a stone:

This wasn't just some fling. And you were terrible at pretending otherwise.

The last text sat heavy in your hands, Pedro's sleepy smirk blurring as your vision doubled. Lena's couch creaked as she settled beside you, pressing a fresh glass of wine into your shaking fingers.

"Okay," she said, bumping her shoulder against yours. "First time at his place and he drops the L-bomb? Start from the top."

You swallowed hard. Outside, the afternoon sun painted golden stripes across Lena's hardwood floors—the same sunlight probably glinting off the damn sunglasses he'd swiped from you last weekend. He'd plucked them right off your face, laughing when you tried to grab them back, slipping them on like they'd always belonged to him. "Finders keepers, cariño."

Lena studied you over her wineglass. "You're panicking because...?"

"Because it's too soon," you whispered. "Because he's literally on a plane right now. Because he said it like it was nothing—"

"Like it was obvious," Lena finished. The knowing look she leveled at you cut straight through your chest.

Your phone buzzed.

Flight DL 2372 Delayed - Now Arriving 8:17PM

Three more hours of limbo. Three more hours for him to sit there in stale airplane air, replaying those two words in his head, fingers tapping restlessly on the armrest.

Lena smirked as you drained your wine. "He's gonna call the second he lands." She plucked the phone from your death grip. "And you're gonna answer."

8:17 PM came and went.

You'd kept yourself busy—half a bottle of wine deep, helping Lena fold laundry (which you never did), scrolling aimlessly through your phone, staring at your unread texts like they might change if you blinked enough times.

Nothing from Pedro.

You weren't going to text first. Absolutely not. No way.

...But maybe his flight was still taxiing. Maybe he'd forgotten to turn off airplane mode. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move—

Nope. You shot up from the couch, wobbling slightly. "I need carbs."

Lena watched, unimpressed, as you beelined for her kitchen and started rummaging through cabinets. "Uh-huh."

"I mean it," you insisted, waving a half-empty bag of pretzels like it was a lifeline. "You know what happens when I drink on an empty stomach."

"What happens is you get emotional and text your situationship at 2 AM," she said dryly, lifting her wineglass. "And you don't have an excuse this time, because he already texted you."

Your stomach flipped. "No, he didn't."

Lena just arched a brow and pointed at your phone—where, sure enough, a new message lit up the screen.

Pedro: Landed.

That was it. Just one word.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your thumb against the cool glass like it might tell you more. No missed you, no talk soon, no what the hell happened back there?

Just landed.

Like he hadn't just changed everything. Like he hadn't looked at you with those dark, steady eyes and said te amo like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like he wasn't regretting it now.

Lena whistled lowly. "Oof. The ellipsis is deafening."

You threw a pretzel at her. "There is no ellipsis."

"There might as well be."

You chewed your lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard. What were you supposed to say? Glad you made it? Cool, have fun pretending that didn't happen?

Before you could overthink yourself into oblivion, your phone buzzed again.

Pedro: Call you when I'm home.

You stared.

Lena sat up straighter. "Okay. That's something."

It was something. He was calling. Not texting. Not waiting.

Your pulse tripped as you forced your voice into something resembling nonchalance. "Yeah. Guess so."

Lena smirked, tipping her glass toward you. "Buckle up, babe."

You clinked your glass against hers. Then you drained it.

By the time your phone rang, you'd already changed shirts twice, brushed your teeth (why?), and paced Lena's living room so much she threatened to sedate you.

Now, standing in the kitchen, staring at Pedro's name lighting up your screen, your stomach twisted itself into knots.

Lena, sprawled on the couch, pointed at the phone. "Well? Answer."

You took a breath, pressed accept, and—

"Hey."

Pedro's voice was warm, low, a little rough, like he hadn't spoken much since landing. The faint sound of a door clicking shut in the background, followed by the soft rustle of sheets as he shifted, made you feel like you were right there in the room with him.

Your fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. "Hey."

A pause. Just the muffled hum of hotel air conditioning, distant voices from the hallway, and the occasional clink of glass from the floor above.

Then, softer, like he was propping himself up on a pillow, "You okay?"

Your throat went dry. "Yeah. You?"

A humorless huff. "I've had better nights."

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing the heel of your hand to your forehead. "Pedro—"

"I meant it." His words were quieter now, a steady reassurance. No hesitation this time, just the sound of his breath, slow and even, as if he was taking his time to make sure you heard him clearly.

Your breath hitched.

"I didn't say it because I was leaving," he continued, his voice a little lower now, like he was leaning in, "Or because I wanted something from you." A beat. "I just—do."

The floor beneath you seemed to tilt, like the weight of his words had shifted everything.

Lena's gaze snapped to yours, wide-eyed, mouthing what is he saying?

You ignored her, pressing a hand to your forehead. "I—"

"You don't have to say anything," Pedro said quickly, the soft sound of a key being tossed onto a nightstand in the background. "I don't expect—" He exhaled, frustration threading through his words. "I just didn't want you to think it was a mistake."

Something in your chest cracked open.

Because you had thought that. Or at least, you'd been afraid of it.

But he wasn't taking it back.

He meant it.

Lena shot you a say something look.

You cleared your throat, gripping the counter for balance. "I don't—" Your voice faltered. "I don't know what to do with this."

Pedro let out a quiet, breathy laugh, the sound warm despite the exhaustion threading through it. "Me neither."

Your fingers curled into your palm, a grounding pressure. "But you still said it."

"I did."

Another silence. But not awkward, not tense. Just there. Holding both of you in the space between what had been and what would come next.

Pedro sighed, his breath deep and tired, like he was sinking back into the bed. "I should go. I'm barely keeping my eyes open."

Your heart clenched. "Okay."

"Yeah."

Neither of you hung up.

His voice softened further, like he was already halfway to sleep. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

Your stomach flipped, the excitement fluttering in your chest. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

A quiet chuckle, almost a hum of affection, slipped through the line. "Goodnight, cariño."

The line clicked off.

You stared at the screen, at your reflection in the darkened glass.

Lena's voice broke through the silence: "Soooo..."

You turned slowly, the warmth of the call still lingering in the air.

She grinned, mischievous. "That sounded like a man in love."

Your heart pounded. The words felt heavy on your chest.

Because, yeah.

It did.

[anantaru]

the anantaru village is so close to hitting 30k, i need to brainstorm a big event because i haven't done one in so long and you guys deserve it 💓

this is us guys