#i've been wanting to say something forever

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Adaline to Adam AU)

⚠️this story will deal with transitioning which will also include things like transphobia, misgendering, and deadnaming⚠️

Adam hated looking at his reflection, he knew for a long time he was really a man. But the problem was that he was born in the wrong body, a woman’s body. He even preferred the name Adam over Adaline. He pulled his long hair in a ponytail wishing to cut it short, but he worried that would draw any questions. So far the only person he told was his mom and she 100% accepted him and was going to help him through transitioning. The person he feared telling the most was his boyfriend because he loved him so much and he feared Lucifer dumping him.

Adam internally: It’s one thing for him to accept me being bisexual, this is me changing so much about myself.

Sera walked into the bathroom and hugged him.

Sera: Starlight, Lucifer is here to take you to school.

Adam: I am going to tell him so I can get the break up over with. I don’t want to go to prom and be dumped there.

Lucifer had asked him to prom and they planned on going to a hotel afterwards so they could have sex for the first time. Poor Lucifer was nervous when they went the pharmacy to get the condom. Adam was surprised when he picked a bigger size. Lucifer stuttered saying that in spite of his short height he was big down there. Curious Adam asked to see it and when they were alone Adam was impressed to see that Lucifer was right. Lucifer promised that he would be gentle as Adam gently touched it.

Sera: Maybe his reaction will surprise you, he loves you so much.

Adam: He loves Adaline, not Adam.

Adam wiped his hand over his eyes hoping that he didn’t start crying over this. He went down stairs and smiled seeing Lucifer, he couldn’t help but love him. They met in kindergarten and now at eighteen years old they were dating like everyone predicted, but Adam didn’t know how long that would last.

Lucifer: Ready for school.

Adam: Yeah.

Adam adjusted the skirt he was wearing along with the tank top and black leather jacket before they got into Lucifer’s car.

Lucifer: Has something upset you, you’re crying.

Adam: I am about to tell you something and I want you to know if you want to take someone else to prom you can.

Lucifer: Why would I want to take someone else, I love you.

Adam: I am not Adaline, I am Adam. I was trapped in the wrong body. It should have been a man’s body, not a woman’s body. I’ll find another way to go to school if you don’t want to look at me.

Before he could leave the car Lucifer pulled Adam into his arms.

Lucifer kissed his cheek: Don't be ridiculous, I'll love you no matter what.

Adam cried, he was so relieved when he heard those words, he had been so worried for nothing.

Adam: T-thank you Luci.

Lucifer: Besides, I've always kind of known.

Adam pulled back: Really? How?

Lucifer gave him a knowing look: You were not exactly a girly girl, you've always been into things that most guys like and I didn't want to say anything. In case you weren't ready. And as beautiful as you look with your long hair, pretty skirt, and tank top they're not you.

Adam cried some more, this was more than he could have hoped for.

Adam: Y-you mean it?

Lucifer: I do. And whoever you decide to live your life as, I just know I want to be by your side. I've loved you forever and nothing will change that. In fact, when you're ready I'll even pay for your hair cut.

Adam smiled he was so happy, just when he thought he couldn't love Lucifer more.

Adam: You're the best boyfriend ever.

Lucifer kissed him: So are you.

[rekino2114]

How about we do a Valentines Day prompt for Wenona~ I freaking love this woman, and I don't even know why. So let's do prompt 25:proposing on valentine's day🩷

Wenona proposing to you on valentine's day

Pairing:Wenona x gn reader

Valentine's prompt#25

Prompts list

"YOU'RE GOING TO PROPOSE TO Y/N!?"

"Shut up ya gremlin, do you want the whole school to hear?"

"It's fine I asked Diana and jett to hang out with y/n so they won't see me setting everything up"

Your girlfriend Wenona was currently talking about her proposal to toshiko, grace and desmond

"This is simply splendid news, love truly is in the air today even more than other valentine's days"

"That's great news Wenona, congratulations, but are you really sure about that? It's a big decision and we're still pretty young"

"Y/n is the person I want to marry. They've been with me ever since I had nothing and have continued to support me all these years, so yes, I am 100% sure. And age shouldn't play a factor in that, if I want to marry them now, I'm going to"

"Pfft, so cheesy"

"And that's why no one loves you"

"What did you say you soybean?"

"C-calm down Wenona, there's someone foe everyone in this world.....even for grace"

"Oi! What is that supposed to mean gremlin?"

"By the way, do you need any help with the preparation? I would be most honored to help such a wonderful couple seal their love forever"

"Thanks kid but it's fine, I already have everything prepared"

"Oh that's nice, could you tell us if you don't mind?"

"Sure, I was thinking of just doing it the classic way, I already have a reservation at their favorite restaurants and the ring prepared, I'm just going to propose after the dinner"

"Oh that's a good choice, an intimate and romantic atmosphere is key for moments like these"

"A bit too cliché if you ask me"

"Like they say, if something isn't broken then don't fix it"

"What's the ring like anyway? Can we see it?"

"And risk one of you breaking it? As if. That ring is worth more than your entire networth"

"Sure, how much can a stupid ring cost?"

"It's 24 carat gold with a 50k dollars worth diamond on the middle"

"F-fifty- the fuck! That's more than I've earned in my entire goddamn career"

"Told ya it was expensive"

"Grace, please tone down the language there's a child around. B-but wenona don't you think that's a bit.....excessive"

"If you think that's excessive, then you're not ready to hear my plans for the wedding"

"You might as well wear a dress made of banknotes while you're at it"

"Hey that's a great idea, thanks for the suggestion"

"I WAS KIDDING!"

"C-calm down everyone, while I might not know what a carat is. I know that there is no price you can put on love, so I fully respect wenona's choice"

"If you don't stop spouting those romance movies phrases I'll tore that fan of yours to shreds"

"N-not my fan!"

"Grace stop it! And Wenona thanks for telling us and I hope everything goes well for you and y/n"

"Thanks, I'm sure it will"

After saying goodbye to her classmate, Wenona went back to her dorm to set up everything, preparing the ring and putting on one of her best dresses. When you came back she told you about her plans and that it was going to be a simple date for Valentine's Day so you agreed quickly and got dressed to go to the restaurant.

The dinner was amazing with Wenona complimenting you every chance she got and telling you how much she loved you basically every minute, you were a bit surprised as she wasn't this loving often, sure she complimented you a lot but this time it seemed different, but you still ignored the feeling and simply continued eating with her.

You finished your last glass of golden champagne and told your girlfriend you wanted to finishe dinner, she simply smiled and said that she had to do something first

"What is it?"

"This"

She suddenly got on one knee, and before you could even react, she pulled out a velvet box out of her pocket and opened it to reveal the most beautiful (and expensive) ring you had ever seen

"Y/n in the time we've been together I have loved you like I love no one else, I know you're with me because of me and not my money or some other dumb reason and so I want to spend the rest of my life with you simple as that, I promise to take care of you and love you forever and all of the rest, I think you can wait for the vows for the entire speech right? Anyway what do you say, will you marry me?"

"A-are you serious?"

"Do you think I would have brought a ring like this for a joke?"

"S-sorry it's just.....really? You want to marry me?"

"Why wouldn't I? You're the whole package, sweet, cute, and smart, I'd be an idiot to not take the opportunity. You still didn't answer me, by the way, even if I probably already know what the answer"

"Yes, yes of course I'll marry you"

"That's what I wanted to hear, now come here"

You got closer to her and she put the ring on your finger, you admired it for a while before you were surprised by Wenona kissing your lips.

The kiss went on for a while, and when you pulled back she started at you with a loving look in her eyes

"I love you my future wife"

"I love you too y/n"

[quintessenceofdust88]

FluffFebruary - Day 9

Prompt for @bucktommyfluffebruary

Day 9: 'Moving in Together'

Buck and Tommy share a moment in their brand new house

(y'all know pwp, get ready for fwp - fluff without plot)

G | bucktommy | 358 words

Buck puts a hand on his waist and sighs happily, looking at the boxes all over the living room floor. The house is still mostly empty, and his steps echo on the walls. Joining some of his savings with the money Tommy got from selling his other house, they managed to buy a lovely two-story house with three bedrooms and plenty of outside space, which is all they need, really. The most important thing is that it’s theirs, and they’re together, and Buck hope is forever.

He feels Tommy’s strong arms wrapping around his waist, and his head rests against Buck’s shoulder with a little kiss to his neck. Buck closes his eyes in delight, posing his hands over Tommy’s.

“Hi, roomie”, he says, and it's sappy and stupid, but Tommy huffs a laugh against his neck, tickling Buck’s skin.

“Happy, sweetheart?” Tommy mutters in his ear, and Buck nods at him.

“So happy”, Buck tells him, turning around to give Tommy a hug, their foreheads touching. “You?”

“Baby, I think the only time I've been happier was on the day we got back together.” He says, and then he looks in Buck's eyes, vulnerable and earnest, and Buck's heart skips a beat. “Thank you, Evan. For giving me another chance.”

Buck presses a long, soft kiss to Tommy's lips, his fingers intertwining in Tommy's curls.

“Thank you for asking for it.” He answers, and Tommy smiles so sweetly at him.

They hug in silence amidst their boxed stuff, just basking in each other's presence, until Buck feels like his heart might burst in the best way. Their road to this point wasn't easy, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

“Alright”, he says once he feels his emotions are back in check. “What do you say we start unpacking this stuff?”

He tries to let go of Tommy so they can sort through the boxes, but Tommy doesn't let go of his hand. He pulls Buck close again, pressing kisses to his neck, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Hmmm, there's something else I want to unpack first”, he whispers, and, well.

How can Buck say no to that?

[bunnyb0ne]

I tried to imagine how a talk between the Prototype and the Doctor would go after Sawyer's transformation. I've come up with something like this:

The Prorotype: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛. The mastermind behind all of 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓽𝓲𝓶𝓮 's glory. Not a gear, but the technician holding... The Doctor: Enough. How did you breach my system? The Prorotype: Oh, 𝔻𝕠𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕣... That line was crossed a long time ago. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚. Not even from those who you ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ. The Doctor: I still can't believe it happened... I guess I could've predicted that. But to think that they would've dared... They could lose their only chance to survive! One tiny mistake, and my mind would have been destroyed forever. (chuckle) Looks like I've pushed too far for them to comprehend... (a long pause) The Doctor: Anyway... What do you want now, 1006? If you managed to break through my security system, I'm sure you can use me just like those filthy traitors or tear down to your heart's content. If this is all you wanted to say... go on. I can't stop you now, can I? The Prorotype: ...The knowledge you already possess is useless for me. There is a 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 inside me. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗 what is left of your body, but I can think of something else. 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖽𝖺𝗒 you pass inside of this tiny box, your mind swells 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊. You do understand your place. You are ᵗʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ in a cage. It gets 𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣. There is no place for new thoughts. No body to 𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙝 and 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝 to drown the pain. Even with shielded pieces of remaining flesh, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘰𝘵. Not much time left for you. The Doctor: I know that something is going on in the layers even deeper that I myself uncovered, but if you think that you can... The Prorotype: I can't. Ɨ ŴƗŁŁ. And I have a room just for you. 𝖠 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗇𝗈 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀. A system with no administrator to 𝕤𝕦𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕧𝕚𝕤𝕖. An e̷̷y̷̷e̷ with no strength to open the eyelid. I can give it to you. E̠̠v̠̠e̠̠r̠̠y̠̠t̠̠h̠̠i̠̠n̠̠g̠. The Doctor: And what is your price for something so powerful? The Prorotype: (laugh) It's a great gift for 𝘺𝘰𝘶. A chance of a lifetime. But for 𝒎𝒆... Not 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 a move of my 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋.             

[autism-autobot]

Flower of a Poisonous Seed Part 23:

Tw: Non-sexual partial nudity

Part 22:

"Finally home. How long were we away?"

"From a week before New Years to now, so... three and a half months? Give or take?"

"Oh... that's a while."

"Well, not in comparison with how long I've been away from the mountain."

"... I see."

Nezha and Wukong were moving Wukong's presents and medical equipment back into Nezha's house about a week after the party.

Nezha had been ecstatic to bring his friend home after all the crazy events that he'd witnessed Wukong go through. Although that last sentence pierced his heart a little more than he could bear.

SWK: Something the matter, Daffodil?

Nezha: Oh, no. Nothing at all...

SWK: I don't buy that one bit. I know you too well. What's wrong?

Nezha: Nothing! Nothing at all!

SWK: Still don't buy it. But since you don't want to talk about it, I'll let it be for now.

Nezha: Alright then.

~~~

They didn't say a word to each other until Nezha was about to start preparing dinner. Even then, it was only a simple question of what Wukong wanted to eat.

~~~

Wukong wordlessly ate dinner as Nezha's eyes darted around the room as he thought about what to say. He needed to say something, but what?

How could he phrase the question that may very well be the difference between the future he wanted for himself or the same thing he'd been quietly suffering all his immortal life?

Wukong didn't know what Nezha wanted to say, but he knew that his Daffodil was thinking very hard about it. He decided to let Nezha take his time to find his words.

Nezha: *breathes deeply* Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven...

SWK: *nearly starts choking on his at getting full name and title dropped*

Nezha: OH MY GOODNESS, ARE YOU OKAY?????!!!!!!

SWK: *mouth still full of food* Maybe a little warning next time you decide to use my full name like that! wtf Nezhie?????

Nezha: My apologies. I *sighs* it... i-i-it seemed right. For the-the question I want to ask you, that is.

SWK: Okay... *takes another bite* What is it?

Nezha: Would you like to...

SWK: mhm...

Nezha: stay with me?

SWK: I thought that's what I was doing?

Nezha: No! But like... *sighs* I mean like...

SWK: ?????

Nezha: Forever.

SWK: !!!!!!

SWK: OH!!!!! Like forever forever? Like, even if I'm no longer sick?

Nezha: Yes! Exactly!

Nezha: So...

Nezha: Would you?

SWK: *swallows his food* *takes a deep breath*

Nezha: Youdon'thavetoanswerrightaway!

Nezha: I mean... you can take time to consider. It's a big ask, and I-

SWK: No need, I already made up my mind.

Nezha: You have?

SWK: Yes.

SWK: I will stay with you. *grabs his hand*

SWK: Forever.

Nezha: *gasps*

Nezha: *passes out*

SWK: OH SHI-

~~~

Li Jing: Less than 24 hours home, and one of you winds up in the ER!!!!!

SWK: Wasn't me this time though.

Jing: That doesn't make it better.

SWK: Sorry.

Jing: What even happened back there?

SWK: Uhhhhhhhh Idk ask Nezhie.

Jing: Fine. I'll ask as soon as the doctors are done with him.

~~~

SWK: *enters room* 🎶✨️Nezhie!✨️🎶

Nezha: Wukong! How are you?

SWK: I'm not the one in the hospital bed this time. Why are you asking me?

Nezha: True.

Jing: What was all that about back there?

Nezha: I... um... I think my heart rate shot up unexpectedly, I think? *hoping his father doesn't ask any more questions*

Jing: Well, whatever the case, you know you need to keep better track of yourself to keep these sorts of things from happening.

Nezha: Yes, father. I will.

Jing: Good, now let's get you home.

~~~

Nezha: Father, you don't need to carry me inside!

Jing: You passed out. You should stay in your wheelchair for at least a week.

Nezha: Awww.

~~~

Jing was sleeping in the guest room while Nezha got dressed for bed. He couldn't convince his father to go home even after three hours of trying to persuade him.

Nezha: *takes off his shirt*

SWK: *takes his pants off and chucks them at Nezha* What a day, huh?

Nezha: *takes pants off his face* You're telling me. I was hoping we'd be able to get a bit more privacy, but my father isn't going anywhere soon.

SWK: Lucky for you, neither am I. *tries putting pajama pants on*

Nezha: Here, let me help you with that.

Nezha: *wheels himself over and helps*

SWK: Thanks. Need a hand climbing into bed?

Nezha: Sure.

~~~

Nezha wrapped his arms around Wukong's bare torso and nestled his head next to his heart. Macaque was right, it is a strangely soothing, almost mechanical sound.

Wukong put one arm under his pillow and the other around Nezha's head. Wukong stroked his hair and sang a lullaby he wrote for his children.

Nezha fell asleep chest-to-chest with his favorite person in the universe and was happy to spend every night for the rest of their shared immortal lives like this.

Part 24:

Masterpost

@istopaskingmemate @weaverpop @swkbiggestdefender @starrclown @ainnur @fruit-fight

[sunlessea]

he supposes it doesn't think him the type for such serious reminiscing. how it would have gawked in awe, had it ever met him in his days as a helsing pup proper - such a noble heir he'd once been, with his head held high on his shoulder, presenting himself above everyone around him, most of all masters like itself. he's thankful it hadn't, though. he's not sure he ever could've looked at it with such kindness as he does now, in his time as cassius ashburnum. it never would have trusted him again, had it been irons he had fought that day he burned the bazaar down, rather than mr fires. now, he can rest his hands at either side of its neck and it does not seem to even consider the possibly that he would wrap them around its neck.

the thought had been there, when they'd first begun interacting. it had assumed this a ploy of some sort, to hunt it, surely. in this position, he could kill it, if he tried. catch it by some manner of surprise, and finish a job long forgotten. it trusts him, he notes, as he gently strokes his thumb along its jawline. its ears are flat 'gainst its head, claws gentle alone his sides ... as much as they can be, from a beast not accustomed to playing so nice.

"i believe that you trust me, and i don't think you could trust me if you didn't love me. but i also believe that if someone is incapable of telling another person their feelings out loud ... then they don't love them enough." his answer is honest, where he has not always been. his hands lower from its shoulders again to gently tug at some of the fabric its bundled in, layer upon layer of cloaks. they were already falling off as it had been, but now he parts some of them further. it is only enough, in the end, to expose some small section of its chest - enough that he may slip his hand underneath and sprawl his palm open over the lacking beat of its heart. there's no gentle thrum inside of it, like his own, no candle lit for mr irons to feign its humanity.

he wonders, yet doesn't ask. maybe it's never had very much reason to wish for human things : a heartbeat, air, passion, pleasure, love, tears, raw emotion. just like him, in an age long past. but he desires now, more than anything. enough for both of them, how his heart races, his cheeks flush, his eyes water.

but maybe it isn't so far off.

"how fondly? in what ways do you think of me? fondly enough that you want to kiss me, but not so that you will tell me that you love me. you don't know your own heart, do you? you didn't even know you had one." he is patient, even when he isn't. his own ears flatten, his expression both lonesome and yearning in his understanding. he would wait forever ... but watching the pieces slowly fall into place makes his heart ache. he wants it to love him so badly. he wants it to want him, too. "you say carnality, i just call it romance. i'm used to being misunderstood, but i want you to understand me. as a poet of veilgarden, i've turned down countless men and women in this city who sought carnal pleasure. i can't let someone touch me who doesn't love me. i just can't. my heart is my body and if anyone ever took advantage of my heart, i would kill myself."

his dramatics do not end with everyday banter or vivacious teases - but even through flowery self deprecation, he is so very serious. its hands on his hips stabilize him, however, giving him something to focus on so he doesn't lose himself in romantic reverie. by time he is done with its cloaks, the last bits of them only cling to irons' arms, and that is not something he can push off on his own. so he stares down at it, fingers tracing lines of its muscles once more. his expression is far away, distant, but not sad. he's lost in thought, paying mind to every spot that makes it shudder when his fingers move over them. it's more sensitive than he'd thought.

it grabs his attention again when it speaks, and he looks up at it with wide, doe - like eyes, curious and contemplative. before it even clarifies the heavy burden it offers him, he's taken by it, his tail swaying gently behind him with expectation. the more secure it squeezes his hips as it lifts itself to sit with him on its lap, the faster his tail starts to wag, ears at last perking up once more. for how seriously he'd worn his melancholy, his expression melts easily into tender reverence, smile 'pon his lips with narrowed eyes as their noses touch. he shifts with it, raising his arms up to wrap 'round its shoulders and pull it in closer so they can sit comfortably face - to - face. "you are not a burden, mr irons. your heart is a gift."

maybe he should've expected it to kiss him, how it had been shifting to close the space 'tween them again ... but he is still a little surprised, all the same. the second time it less brutal than the first, and as a result, less awkward - the harsh press of its lips 'gainst his own is much less feral, though still quite rough. it's charming, in a way. he thinks this is its attempt at kindness, and he does not tease it for that. he falls into line, pulling it down harder by its shoulders and letting it part his lips against its once more, 'til its tongue finds his own. he's able to shift in its lap until his legs comfortably rest at its sides, knees pressing into its thighs as his fingers tangle through its hair. its need is met by his own passion, a loving romantic at his core, even in the depths of spiraling desire, albeit of a purer context than his admissions of fantasy would suggest.

humanity is hardly so simple for those born inhuman. to neatly box the wild and often inconsistent flux of its feelings into something kine could comprehend, to balance learned nature with its basal instinct—its love resulting comes intertwined with a certain hunger. and that is difficult to explain, more than just a comfortable warmth against its chest, more than excitement, or an ache in its stomach, it is, above all else, an intense and indomitable craving. it feels it 'cross every inch of its body, inside and out, with every kiss he steals and how earnestly he wraps himself around it.

the way he touches it drives it absolutely mad, in a way it is not wholly certain that it actually minds : it is naught like anything it, personally, had it proffer a more accurate definition, fantasized, and it thinks it might then be the surprise of it that leaves it feeling so willfully captured. his fingers tracing 'gainst subtle ripples of muscle and skin follow a trail so delightfully sensitive in ways it could never have expected, untouched as it had been in its self-imposed isolation. it likes the warmth it feels 'neath his palms, against his body, his breath against its lips the few moments their lips part and how it feels his breathing quiver with each slow, arduous draw of its tongue over the wound begged-open 'neath its teeth; it likes how he always beckons it closer with his blood still on its tongue, deepening their kiss with venture of his own will. it likes how its body cannot decide, in continued conflict of its own heart, if it should purr or growl, and how often it alternates 'tween both muffled by his lips.

not to say that it is without surprise when his body shifts. though it is, perhaps, more muted a shock than t'would otherwise be, were he any other. and it may as well be purely for the lack of force, rather than strength—it feels when his leg hooks even tighter 'cross its back, the subtle pressure of his heel pressing into its side, but this too feels more like he is simply beckoning it follow his lead. and that is the bigger surprise, how simply it relents.

this, yes, has it growl. but that is merely natural response for any predator proper pushed to such a vulnerable point. even fully clothed, having rolled gently 'pon its back with his encouragement, it feels so exposed laying beneath him! it mourns the taste of him, same as the pressure of his lips, but it is stalled in its own personal languishing by how sternly he seems look back at it—it can't recall a moment he's ever been so, even when they'd first met. and that, more than anything, piques its interest and begs its attention.

better would it be the sort of blushing maiden with heat rushing to flood her cheeks at such a thought, than how stone-faced it is in their reality. there is no pretty poetry to weave how it stares up at him, wide-eyed and ears slowly pressing 'gainst its head for cause of ... not embarrassment, quite, but something like— it has heard far cruder things, years passed before they ever crossed paths, but it thinks it is his clarification most that his its chest constrict, fang pulling the soft flesh of its cheek 'neath to chew as it tries to pretend it is not quite so affected as it most certainly is. it is not shy, but it is not ... this particularly brazen, either. he definitely is special.

" do you believe i love you? " its voice feels particularly hoarse, even to it : and it presumes it is only cause for how often it was stolen in their heated exchange, every gasp or moan or plea stifled by each their eager tongues. but even so, its tone is cautious; careful, where what little inflection it is able to offer cannot otherwise be misconstrued for rejection. its chest aches too, feeling how his hands continue making their way 'cross its skin, the bulk of its body, but that nagging pull has grown increasingly familiar in the passing weeks. it considers itself lucky merely only shuddering when his fingers brush over dips along its body that are more sensitive than most. the tension ebbs and flows, but its fixation 'pon him is unwavering.

it thinks its gaze shakes while he speaks, rapt, a subtle quiver align with the occasional shiver that runs its way through its body. it's a far different tone than how he has ever approached it—and yet, it is somehow just the same. desire spoken from the heart, a romantic at his core, no matter how salacious the tale he could weave, he hardly need speak of the love he feels for it for it to comprehend. it hurts when it swallows, 'round the growing lump in its throat.

" it ... is true, the subjects of which my thoughts have drifted to. i have thought about what it might have been like to kiss you more than i am open to admit. though i do— ... did not understand the process. i desired to. i do think of you fondly. in numerous ways, and that is strange to me. " like would he be to forgive it, its quiet voice; barely above murmur, that, as it gradually takes to unraveling its hold 'round his waist, slowly pulling its hands down over his hips as it speaks, " i would never think less of you for carnality. i think you are naive, at your best, but physicality or need for is hardly my concern. i do not understand you, or what you have done to me. of that, i feel as if i no longer know myself. "

his hair tickles its cheek, its jaw; shrouds them where what few parts of its cloaks still cling to it offer little protection from the intensity of his gaze. " it is a heavy burden to ask of you, elysium, but ... " it starts, but pauses soon after; its hands have settled neatly over his hips, and though it does squeeze them long enough to beckon even more of his attention, it uses its tight grip as means to steady itself as it lifts itself up to brush its nose up 'gainst his own. once more, merely a breath apart—and it really does savor the feeling, nearly more than the blood it still knows clings to his lips. and its too, though it's quick to swipe that away as it pulls itself closer to him. hands travelling slow from hip to side, pressing down gently 'long the slight curve of his waist. " —perhaps you might be willing to bring clarity to my own heart? " it has not suddenly become anymore confident in the gesture as it had started. but it is difficult to be too clumsy, this close. no sooner has it finished speaking before it closes the distance; and once more, it pushes its lips hard against his own. not in curiosity, or even impulse : it needs him.

[biff-adventurer]

today i met tiny chris

poor wean's da got et by a 'bon. now he wants 'em all dead. wiv' crossy eyes like them as drawed in the picture shows. dinnae get et and ye might be his new da.

he actually made me think about two things - the npcs/people we've helped along the way, and the writing of accents.

it's no secret i gave biff this accent - it tells you he ain't a city slicker but rather a rural boy, it tells you his folks ain't got a lotta money (at least, one would think), and it associates him with a specific cultural/ethnic profile (gaelic, i know/studied a little more about irish than scots so i lean irish)

i think we should, as a society, be wary of continuing to associate class with specific ethnic communities, but i'm not learned enough to make a post dedicated to my specific thoughts on that (yet? tbd)

mostly, i think it's important to look at the way characters speak as a vehicle of writing. when you write a character's accent, is it useful for what you're trying to establish in the scene? is the noble supposed to fail to understand the vernacular of his server? is it useful if the character is always going to say "dinnae" instead of "do not"? when dealing with non-western characters with accents, how far is it okay to go until the dialogue goes from representation to racist charicature?

writers have the power of flexibility. writing is about persuasion more than anything else, and we should remember to persuade our audiences that these are people. they aren't real, so don't bother with "realistic" - but they represent real ideas, concepts and associations in our world. it's important to be careful what you do with these, intended or not! and if you make an oopsie? acknowledge, accept and continue on your journey to being your best.

my preferences for writing accents based on my experiences, observations and education lean thus:

pick and choose what words require emphasis. if the whole sentence requires it, then so be it! but make conscious choices. words weigh differently, and they carry double the weight when they're written out to represent an accent. just really think about whether or not this is the point you want to say to, t', ta, or tae. the whole sentence doesn't need to be written out phonetically b/c avoiding doing that helps us steer clear of reiterating caricatures.

include culturally specific verbiage. "what's the craic" or "how's it hangin'" depending on who your character is. in india, lots of people greet each other with religious phrases (in english, it'd sound like saying "god is good"/"good is god" call and response) - so a thavnairian character could say anything between "sisters be with you" to "mindhurva guide your path today" (and also yours, brother/sister). but also: wain, wean, child, sweetling,

be careful which non-english words your character uses. i don't call it chai tea latte, i call it chai latte. my wife doesn't call it green tea latte, but matcha latte. i actually don't drink chai latte, i drink chai. but i call it both chai and tea interchangeably; so, when i want someone to know how to prepare my tea, i might ask for chai instead of tea. because with chai, you get half or whole base milk instead of water. you get dried ginger or an array of spices depending on the auntie. with tea, you get dried up leaves and some hot water. big difference for me.

above all, make sure it's legible most of the time. you can do this by avoiding writing a character's accent out completely phonetically. this isn't to say "conform your character to what people think they should talk like". this is about being aware that writing implies an audience. if you want your writing to connect with people, the important parts should be clearly communicated in the text. especially if you're writing in english. if i wanted my characters to speak hindi, why would i bother writing the story in english at all? you want people to see your character a specific way. write them the way you hope they'll be seen--if you've done a good enough job, it will lead to so much joy and satisfaction. if you haven't--it's back to the drawing board! but you get the chance to learn even more.

[lunacias]

these are the silt verses, and I name our disciples thus

[kamaluhkhan]

i should be working on my thesis. i should be grading midterms. but instead? instead im thinking about whether i should do a vi x reader hunger games au or buffy the vampire slayer au or spiderverse au.

[welcometogrouchland]

I'm going to be so real I do not understand tim & steph shippers who feel that Steph dating Tim again would save her character. You can make an argument that giving Tim a more compelling love interest would be beneficial for him! And you can at least make an argument that the fujo mischaracterization of Steph would stop. However she'd still, inevitably, be treated as a prop character/extension for someone more popular 😭 it also wouldn't make her appear in more books! Tim doesn't have many frequent appearances at the moment either! You can just say you like the couple and want them back together without acting like you have some kind of moral stance

[mattodore]

now that the edit is done i will not be thinking abt it ever again. here’s a screenshot i took to test new world lighting. theo joy 💓

[destinywillowleaf]

one of a kind living in a world gone plastic

baby you're so classic

@most-tragic-character-tournament

(all my thoughts in the tags)

[problematicsashawaybright]

I would not survive for very long in the magnus archives as the archivist because unfortunately I think all the female avatars are unbelievably sexy

[camellcat]

it confuses me when people say they like willow or xander and then get all uncomfortable and condemning about, like... major parts about them. you don't like that they're wildly possessive of which often leads them to acting irrational and awful...... which is like one of their biggest traits? oh, and you hate that they're not fantastic friends to buffy............. which is also like. how they are. pretty much the entire time we know them. okay!

wow, you find xander to be annoying bc he's a dumb dude who seriously needs to unlearn some ideals and really outta treat his girlfriends nicer. I'm dismayed at his typical guy-ness. bummer, we don't enjoy that willow is like totally abusive when it comes to exerting whatever power can get over people. that sure is a bad thing she does.

I just. I like them BECAUSE of these things idk how the hell you could possibly separate these things from them and still enjoy these characters it boggles my mind

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Can you expand on what you mean by Baron being "too cool" to really fit a horror monster? It's a very interesting concept and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Is it that they're too active/involved/tangible and it detracts from their scariness?

I feel like I should preface this with a wall of disclaimers lmao 1/I am a hardcore, down-to-the-marrow, avid, deeply sincere horror enthusiast, esp. horror creatures. this usually means my mileage is vastly different from the average populace's, and my scaredy bone has been disintegrated by longterm exposure. most things in a piece of horror media won't scare me! so I practically never use that on its own as the scale to talk abt horror experiences, but when something does scare me it's always a special occasion to be treasured. 2/canon d20 is never really meant to be horror horror, and for good reasons: it doesn't fit the company's output, it takes a kind of carelessness in production estimation that is always a huge risk, it's often vulnerable in a way that kinda goes against how TTRPGs usually facilitates vulnerability, and for most people it's just! stressful! d20, even with the "horror-themed" seasons, generally just plays with horror tropes and stays focused in its goal of being a comedy improv tabletop theater show. 3/fantasy high's chosen system is DnD, which as I've mentioned before is before all a combat-based game system, which means the magic circle of play is drawn based on stats that facilitate and prioritize combat. want or not this affects every interaction you have in the game, and given fantasy high's concept from the ground up (everyone's going to school of DnD stuff to get better at DnD) it's doubly relevant. 4/This Is Fine I have no quarrel with this. my meters are internal, I do not ask this show to be anything it doesn't advertise itself to be, and what it is is fucking great! I like it! when I expand on this ask's question it will be like a physicist going insane in a lab. that's the mindset we're going in with.

disclaimers done. my stance on horror as a genre is that it's a utility genre rather than a content genre or a demographic genre; it is the discard of narratives. it's the trash pile. horror, above being scary, is about being ugly and messy, it's the cracks on the ground any story inevitably steps over to stay a genre that isn't horror. the genre's been around long enough to develop a codex and a general language that medias and makers and enthusiasts of the genre can use to talk about and build onto, but if you go into individual pieces there's really no unifying Horror Story. one person's beautiful life can be another's horror story, it's just how it is.

this makes The Monster a deeply intriguing piece of the genre. thing is a monster is in a decent percentage of any story - it's just when the antagonist force steps into something past a certain line traced out in the story's world. monstrousness is in pretty much every western fantasy story, it's in any story with a hero and something to vanquish or win; more than anything it's a proxy of that thing up there. the line in a narrative's world. the monster is the guard of the unknown lands, where heroic, civilized people don't tread.

what does this mean in the context of horror? the genre is about that perceived lawlessness, that "unknown land" so to say. we're in the monster's home. that's the literary context that we often walk into a horror piece with; the monster knows more than you about where you are. it may not understand you, but it holds more information than you, and with that it moves swifter than you, has more covered than you, and is more assured in its existence in this context than you. it's a struggle to catch up to it, it's nigh impossible to get one over it, and you're never sure it'll 100% work, because you just don't have the information necessary to.

with that framing you can kinda see where I'm coming from here: horror's often about the breaking of rules. I always think a monster's most effective when it breaks well-established rules of both existence and visual storytelling. think Possum (2018) or Undertale's Omega Flowey or the Xenomorph Queen - unique change in medium, unique change in graphic, unique change in design language, etc. in that sense I actually really like how canon baron plays out: they don't really function like anything else in the fantasy high universe, the bad kids have not managed to kill them when they've felled literal gods, their domain in fhjy literally introduces new mechanics to encompass their existence! from an experience design standpoint they slap mad shit. BUT! I can't help finding their character, like as a character riz (and the other bad kids, eventually) interact with, to be very... coherent? in design. this is kinda hard for me to articulate in words, it's more often a sense you get once you've looked at enough of these scrumptious fuckers, their general design and the way they show up is just kinda too clean, so to say. always kinda newly made? fresh unboxed. it, once again, makes sense for their lore - they are looking for more about themself from riz - and their function - they're an antagonist in a game experience, they're meant to be interacted with in a way that produces results and meshes with the existing magic circle - but that shininess takes away from the implied history they should have dominion over and the person they're haunting doesn't.

from another angle there is kinda something there about how put-together canon baron is as a concept; the domain they call home is riz's deep-seeded fears, extremely vulnerable things he's drawn borders around to quarantine and refused to walk into. things that from his perspective would irreversibly shatter certain pleasant fictions his world is built on top of. canon baron, While Extremely Cool, I feel is kinda too neat to connect with and signify the apocalyticized mess that'd result from this paradigm shift. the part where they're in riz's briefcase and looking through every mirror is Very Cool And Fucked Up! but ultimately the show draws a line around them as well, by making game-physical, tangible spaces they're in (the mirrors and the haunted mordred manor) and put riz and the bad kids there only when they need to confront stuff. riz is meaningfully narratively away from baron's unknown land for most of fantasy high.

with that and all of my disclaimers in mind my conclusion here is if canon baron wants to be a Horror Monster they'd have to cross way more lines. be a Lot more invasive. hence (holds up my class swap baron like a long cat)

[pigeonclaw]

the amount of times I have potentially controversial opinions that I type up and then save in my drafts forever because I still feel them but am too shy and afraid to choose violence in any way