#sorry so many of my answers are kind of a downer

[mushroompone]

Hello! I really love your writing and with all the hype going with the mlp infection/zombie I was wondering how do you approach writing horror/gore? I mostly like to write slice of life, romantic, fluffy stories, so whenever I try to write something darker, a zombie apocalypse for example, the violence feels juvenile and the horror falls flat. Your stuff is absolutely terrifying and amazing, so I'm just sitting here wondering how?? I know that's a broad question, but I would appreciate a peek into your thought process for writing horror. Thank you and have a good day!!

Oh my gosh you're so kind!! First off, thank you! I have really enjoyed writing horror for this community for many years now, and it's been sorry cool to see this massive interest during of of nowhere for MLP horror content!

Second, definitely a broad question, but I can offer some broad tips in response:

(1) Work with what scares you. Horror actually comes naturally to most of us, you just have to be willing to explore some of the darker corners of yourself. Consume horror as much as possible and try not to shy away from what scares you. Most importantly, though, understand why you find it scary. This leads to step 2...

(2) Drill down to the core fear. There's a lot of creatures and things that pop up in horror again and again: ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and certainly zombies. But to work with these effectively we have to understand why they scare us. The answer is different for everyone! Let's take zombies as an example: for me, zombies are scary because they are infectious. I find plagues and diseases to be really really scary, even pre-covid lol. For others, it's more about loss of control - becoming a zombie means becoming an animal, or something else inhuman. Dig until you find the why. Then...

(3) Give someone the worst day possible. Picking your protagonist is critical. The monster has to be difficult for them to face! So think about what will play well off your core fear. If you've found zombies as your monster and distilled that to loss of control .. well, Luna would be a great choice! She's all about loss of control. That's super scary and very real for her. If you're going in more of an infectious disease direction, Twilight would make more sense - she would make a very believable germaphobe, yet still be driven to help those around her and find a cure. If you do it right, all you have to do is...

(4) Sit back and let it happen. It helps to have a destination in mind (even if it's as simple as "happy ending" or "real downer"), but if you've set yourself up this way you've got a concept and you're ready to let it rip. Start writing. Be gross. Scare yourself. Look over your shoulder and wonder who might be watching you. If you get stuck, ask yourself this: how could this possibly get any worse? Then do that. With pizzazz.

The details of writing prose that is gooey, gory, and chilling come from reading. You'll start to get a feel for where to linger, where to hold back, where to describe, and what to leave up to your reader's imagination. The hardest part is the balancing act - keep some things obscured. Leave some mystery while making it clear what is scary and why. However, once your audience knows the precise size and shape of what they're dealing with, it becomes a lot less scary! My rule of thumb is that I never want my audience to be able to plan a way around the danger. They should never be able to devise their own means of escape - something should always be left uncertain or shrouded in darkness.

I hope this helps!! If you'd ever like someone to look at what you're working on, I love beta-reading pony horror :) actually, come to think of it, I love beta-reading all horror!

Again, thank you! Your an earned my heart ❤️ I love hearing that my sacred are still scaring!

[huntinglove]

Hoi!

1. how did you discover your f/o’s content?

4. who was your first favorite character when you initially got into your f/o’s source content? was it your f/o from the very beginning?

6. if your f/o is from a series, which episode/movie/game/book of their source content is your favorite?

for the meta asks, for whoever you'd like to answer for.

-@redwingedwolves

Hi hi!! Thank you so much for the ask!! I'll answer these for Charlie, Simon and Sir Pentious!!

1. How did you discover your F/O’s content?

I had heard about Charlie's game when it was in early development!! I really wanted to get back into the community because it was one of the most fun fandoms I had been in in the last couple of years, so I got the game! And when I tell you that I fell for him, I mean like falling down five flights of stairs, I fell fast and I fell HARD.

With Simon it's not as interesting, I was in the fandom since the start of the show! When I was almost done rewatching adventure time, Fionna and Cake was announced and it made me even more interested in the series and its lore! He was one of my first controversial crushes because I really liked him as Ice King back in the day, and the "safe" side did what it did best (bullied tf out of me because of it)

I literally watched Hazbin Hotel because of Sir Pentious! I saw some of my mutuals posting about the series and him specifically, I liked his design (especially because I have a soft spot for nagas and lamias) and yeah, it felt like he was specifically crafted for my tastes!

4. Who was your first favorite character when you initially got into your F/O’s source content? Was it your F/O from the very beginning?

Charlie was and still is my favorite character from ADSM! I also like Cameron, but I want to wait and learn more about the other characters before I make a heavier judgement on them!

Also, I completely forget that there are more routes in the game other than Charlie's... I just can't say no to him!!

Simon started off as Ice King and he was one of my favorites, but I really thought I'd be way more interested in Finn or Marceline (they're still F/Os of mine, but not on the same level as Simon), and having my crush on him get so much worse as I learned more about him was genuinely mesmerizing.

I'm glad Fionna & Cake gave me the chance to experience that feeling all over again

Sir Pentious was my favorite character before I even got into the show itself, so I wasn't even surprised when I immediately shoved him into the F/O list once I finished watching it XD

6. If your F/O is from a series, which episode/movie/game/book of their source content is your favorite?

Anything involving Charlie makes me super happy, I lose count of how many times a day I refresh the tags for ADSM to see if there's new content of him, plus I'm always trying to come up with interesting questions about him for the creator's CC!!

For Simon, it's three different episodes!

As Ice King it's Princess Monsters Wife! I've watched it many, many times! Seeing him being so domestic and sweet gives me a clear view of his relationship with Ocean Princess!

As corrupted Simon it's Simon And Marcy, one of my favorite episodes of Adventure Time in general! Watching him slowly lose himself to the crown's magic is genuinely heartbreaking, especially as a disabled neurodiverse person

As Simon himself, it's Simon Petrikov. All episodes of F&C explore different aspects of mental illness and trauma, but having him trying to convince people that he's not what he used to be, how he used to act, while everyone is just upset about him being too much of a downer is excellent writing and it made me re-live many moments through my own healing journey

For Sir Pentious it's definitely Radio Killed The Video Star. Pentious is not a character that's liked by the creator, so moments where he's not in active distress are rare to say the least, but It Starts With Sorry is one of my favorite scenes of his, seeing Charlie being so genuinely kind to him, when she's the third most powerful being in all of hell makes me smile

[notanotherzerofan]

A lot's been on my mind...

A lot of it either feel I can't really talk about or it's personal stuff that I prefer to keep private.

I will say this though: the rate AI is advancing if absolutely terrifying me.

Now, normally I prefer to keep posts as short as possible, so I because this is a rant and kind of spur of the moment (and also a long time coming), so I legit have no idea how long I'm going to run on this

Also want to point out before I get into all this, I don't hate AI, but the ways it's being used.

*TL;DR at the end.

Now, let me clarify, this is not just about the image generators, but everything involving itself in creative fields and possibly beyond. We're basically at the point where you can't tell what's real anymore. I say this as I just prior to me starting to write (March 27th) this I read an article regarding an AI generated pic of the pope that fooled a lot of people.

Then there's the issue that many artist were worried about in regards to losing work to AI. It's already happening, though currently in a different field: modeling. Basically, Levi's is going about testing AI generated models and claiming to do so in the name of 'diversity.'

And probably the biggest issue is people either remain ignorant to what's going on, don't care what's going on, or want AI to take control of everything.

I say of the former two (and basically everyone for that matter), you really should both learn and stay informed as best you can as this is an issue that has an effect on everyone. I also say this as someone who's looked a little further into how some of this tech (image generators specifically) work. Also be aware, just like anything on the internet, there'll be misinformation, so you probably shouldn't take one source as a definitive final answer (This includes myself as I'm just as prone to making mistakes and having bias as anyone else). On top on that, for the love of god, don't get your info from Twitter or Facebook.

Now, as for the latter, I highly doubt it's going to end up being a case of you being free to sit around and play video games all day. If you're hedging on the idea of UBI and live in the US or anyplace where government greed an lobbying is rampant, it's more likely you'll get barely enough to squeeze by, if anything at all.

Now, while none of these problems have easy solutions, there are those that are working for and in favor of people and human generated content. With lawsuits against image and text AI generators and with a group working on software that messes with image outputs I am somewhat hopeful that protections and more ways to fight back will come around.

In the mean time, I'm still going to work my craft, and you should too.

And by that I kind of also mean I'm gonna try to stop holding back on stuff just because I don't have a proper watermark yet. It's another thing that's going to take a while, especially since I'm going to be working with new software for this. In the mean time, I recommend if you do any sort of visual art you do the same thing too. Unfortunately for writers and coders, I don't have any suggestions as that's not my area of expertise (but don't take this as me saying, 'oh, ur on ur own, lol').

Now, admittedly, since I began writing this, some new info has come to light (*insert slowpoke meme here*). Apparently over 1,000 tech leaders, including Elon Musk (if even he is campaigning for this, then something is up), signed a letter on the topic of slowing down or even halting AI development. This is potentially good, but too be fair, it doesn't stop the damage that's already been done.

Like I said above, I'm hoping that protections for people from AI will become a thing.

Sorry if this seems like a downer ending, but I don't really know what else to say, and I'm not really a writer or journalist. This isn't the last I'll be talking about stuff like this though.

TL;DR:

AI is already affecting credibility and people's jobs.

Don't just take something on person of side says as truth; try to find a credible source (i.e., not Twitter or Facebook).

UBI is not an end all solution, especially if your government is known for it's greed.

There are people trying to curb some of ethical the issues from AI.

Keep creating, no matter what.

Tech leaders are campaigning for a slowdown/halting of AI development.

This won't be the last time I bring up stuff like this.

[justafrogandherumbrella]

Welcome to Nowhere: A Crack in the Wall

“Why do you even have a sledgehammer?” Felicity asks as Jenny enthusiastically does her absolute best to break through the wall.

“Don’t be silly, honeybun,” Ava says. “Why wouldn’t she have a sledgehammer?”

“That literally makes no sense. Bianca, answer my question.”

Bianca shrugs. “I have no idea. Neither of my dads are particularly sledgehammer-y, but we’ve always had one. We have a lot of weird shit just kind of…” she pauses, gesturing at a small glass bowl filled with teeth sitting on one of the many display shelves. “Laying… around.” 

Both Ava and Emerson look utterly disgusted, but Felicity  doesn’t seem convinced. 

“Okay, so why does Jenny just happen to know where it’s kept?”

“She’s my best friend,” Bianca says matter-of-factly. “Of course she would know.”

“That still doesn’t make any-”

“Guys!” Jenny cheers. “Look at this! I made a little hole in the wall!”

“Yaaaay,” Ollie says sarcastically. “We can escape through that hole the size of…” They squint at the wall. “My pinkie finger.”

“Oh shut up,” Jenny says, crossing her arms while her normally pearly-white clouds turn slightly gray. “Don’t be such a downer.”

“Sorry,” Ollie sighs. “Carry on, I guess.”

“I will, thank you very much,” she says, raising the sledgehammer above her head. 

“Besides,” Lucas says, pouring himself what looks to be a cup of coffee. “Now that the wall has been weakened, it’ll be a lot easier to destroy.”

“See,” Jenny huffs. “No reason to be so negative.”

“Alright, alright,” Ollie says. “Still, maybe to speed up this process we could… I dunno, help out a little?”

“See,” Jenny says, still hammering the wall. “You should have suggested that earlier.”

With that, everyone in the room reaches for a random object to hit the wall with. You end up with a small, stone statue of a wasp. You can’t help but feel a little ridiculous, fighting a wall. 

Still, the tactic seems to work- although, not quite as much as you would have hoped. By the time everyone decides they’re finished, there’s a large- but narrow- crack in the wall. 

“You guys,” Emerson gasped, out of breath. “Do… you guys think we’ll be able to fit through this thing?”

“I think I could,” Jenny says, already squeezing herself into the wall. “It’s a little tight, but I can make it through.” 

“I think I would be able to fit too,” Bianca muses. “Ollie, How ‘bout you?”

“Yeah, I can probably get through, but what about Caitlyn?” they say, nodding in the rabbit-girl’s direction. 

“Yeah…” Caitlyn says, peering at the crack. “I’m a lot bigger than the rest of you, and I don’t think I’d have the room to turn sideways and step through the way Jenny did.”

“Hmmn,” Bianca mutters, picking up what looks like a railroad spike from one of the display cases. “Here,” she says, “If I chip away at the inside of the crack, do you think you would be able to get through easier?”

“Yeah, probably,” Caitlyn says, giving her a shy smile. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” Bianca says, sliding into the crack and beginning to chip away at the wall. “Emerson, Rue, what about you guys? Do you think you’ll be able to fit through?”

“Wait, you never asked me,” Lucas says, picking up another railroad spike and walking over to chip away some of the edges.

“Well,” Bianca says, “I’m already pretty confident you’ll be able to fit.”

“No I won’t,” Lucas sighs dramatically. “My muscles are too big to possibly-”

“Shut up, Lucas,” she says, cutting him off. “Anyways, do you two think you’ll be able to fit through?”

“No idea,” you answer honestly. 

“Probably,” Emerson says. “I am a little chubby, which might make it kinda tough, but I’m also very… slippery, I guess? That should help me out.”

“Alright then,” Bianca says, stepping away from the crack. “Caitlyn, see if you can fit through this.”

“Alright,” Caitlyn says nervously, stepping up to the crack. 

After what seemed to be a tense couple of moments of her struggling to get through, she slipped past the wall and made it to the outdoors.

“Yup! Made it,” her voice says happily. “And would ya’ look at that, no weird contract shenanigans!”

“I can’t believe my idea actually worked…” Emerson mutters in amazement as Lucas eagerly squeezes through the crack. 

“Of course it worked!” Bianca exclaims, ushering out both Ava and Felicity, who were staring at the crack with concern. “C’mon, it’s fine,” she hisses. “Hurry up before my dad realizes something’s up.” She pauses, waiting for the both of them to pass through. “Anyways,” she says after they’ve both been passed on to the outdoors. “Don’t underestimate yourself too much, okay?” With that, she gestured to Emerson to pass through the crack in the wall before stopping. “I just realized that you can literally just walk through the door. You should probably do that instead.”

“Oh, right!” Emerson says, flushing green with embarrassment. “I forgot about that too…”

The moment Emerson leaves, Bianca stops you from going through the crack. “Rue, wait here for a minute, will you?”

“Oh,” you say. “Sure what do you-”

“Boo!”

You yelp, surprised as Jenny jumps out from behind one of the shelves. 

“Did I get ya’?” She says in a fit of giggles.

“Y-yeah, you got me… what are you still doing inside?” you ask. 

“Oh, I figure Bianca is going to tell me about the traitor or whatever.”

“You knew about that?” You gasp.

“Yeah, I kinda figured it out on my own,” she confesses. “And I’m guessing that you two already know about that then?”

“...Yes,” Bianca says, looking a little put-off. “So, I was thinking that looking for Aderyn would be a great opportunity to try and root out the traitor. I’m going to divide us into two teams while we look for her, we’ll observe all of them to… see who seems the most traitor-y, capeesh?”

“Sounds good to me, cap’n,” Jenny says, giving a mock salute. “What do you think, Rue?”

“I mean,” you say, pausing to think. “Most of that sounds pretty good, but we’ll be searching for Gia too, right?”

Bianca shakes her head. “You mostly want to find them ‘cuz you’re worried about them being in that… room, right?”

You nod.

“Well,” she explains. “The truth is  we’ve been stuck here for a while now, so they’ve probably been let out by now, and are back at the office… so we don’t need to make them our priority right now.”

“I guess that makes sense…” you mutter, still feeling worried. 

“Alright then, let’s go.”

After Jenny, you are the second to pass through the crack. It is a tight fit, so the wall squishes you on all sides… except that you don’t feel it. It doesn’t press into your flesh, or even compress you too much. Instead your endless lines, scribble, and nonsense words come apart, and you find yourself dissolving.

And then you find yourself back together again, as if that hadn’t happened at all. 

Once outside, Bianca didn’t hesitate for one moment to get things moving. She split you into two teams, just as she said she would. You and Jenny end up being on a team with Ava, Felicity, and Lucas; whereas she puts herself with Emerson, Ollie, and Caitlyn. While you wish you could have been teamed up with Emerson, you’re at least pretty glad that you’re not the only one in your group who knows about the traitor. You’re not really sure how confident you are at lie detecting or observing the behaviors of other people, so you’re grateful to have some support.

However, once you’ve split off and have wandered into the desert, it becomes clear that Jenny doesn’t really know what she’s doing either. In fact, you’re mostly just wandering around aimlessly while Jenny laughs and jokes with the other three. How is this situation supposed to help you find the traitor again? You’re not really sure. Should you try setting people up? How would you even go about that? You feel like you’ve spent just about forever wandering around… was this even going to be effective in finding Aderyn? Isn’t this just what Emerson was doing earlier. Wasn’t this method also unsuccessful with… ? 

That’s odd. You just had another one of those thoughts again- the kind that leads to nothing. The kind that seem like they don’t even exist. Most thoughts are connected to other thoughts, just like a giant, tangled clump of worms. But this kind of thought is just a small, little, worm that’s all alone, and you don’t know where it came from or how it got into your head… maybe worms aren’t the best analogy here. 

“Ouch!” Felicity cries out, tripping on something ahead of you.

“Are you okay?” Ava asks running over to her. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Felicity grumbles. “I’m fine. I just tripped on something, that’s all.”

“What did you trip on?” Jenny asks, peering over Ava’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” she hisses. “It was mostly under the sand or something.”

Curious, you walk over to where Felicity is currently lying down dramatically on the ground, and brush of the sand from whatever it is she tripped on. It’s something hard- you think it might be a rock at first, but when you hold it up and finish brushing it off it’s… a telephone. A rotary telephone. 

Like most of Dispassion, the phone is coated in faded pink and yellow paint, and looks to be on the verge of falling apart. It’s smaller than the ordinary rotary phone, or at least you think it is. It doesn’t have an ordinary dial either- it only has one, small, heart-shaped button.

You’re about to press it when Ava slaps your hand away from it. “Don’t touch it,” she hisses. “Haven’t you considered the possibility that this is some kind of trap?”

“Oh,” you say, wringing your hands. “I guess I haven’t thought of that. Thanks for telling me.”

“It’s literally a rotary phone… same thing as Mr. Rotary’s head- and name? How did you not think of that?” Felicity scowls.

You shrug. “I just didn’t.”

“Guys don’t be mean to Rue,” Jenny says, picking up the old phone. “Besides, I think we should press it.”

“What?” Ava whirls around alarmed.

“Are you kidding me?!” Felicity shouts. 

“Well… it’ll probably do something,” Jenny says simply. “And I think that’s better than just wandering around. Oh- and if something happens to us, Bianca and the others will have our backs.”

“... That doesn’t make me feel any better,” Ava says, sounding slightly nauseous as the roses sprouting from her neck slowly start to turn from their usual red into white.

“Agreed,” Felicity scoffs. “We are not pressing that button.”

“Too late,” you say, pressing the button.

 Click.

[glittter-vamp]

This question might be a lot so I’d you don’t want to answer that’s completely okay! But as someone who also hasn’t had love interests in life and is 28 years old… how do you deal with that? I feel like I’m missing so much seeing my friends date, be loved, get married & have kids. It kinda hurts that years are passing me by and I’m still in the same spot I was at 16.

Aw I’m so sorry babes! this is so tough, I’ve totally been here before BUT for me personally, I’ve just learned over the years to de-center romantic love. We tend to not appreciate the love we get from our family and friends, platonic love can be just as important so that helped and not be Debbie downer or be bleak but growing up with out romantic love made me hyper-analyze other peoples relationships (which tbh could be bad idk) and there’s just far too many instances where yeah they might be together, married have kids live that “perfect life” as they say… and they still aren’t really experiencing love and romance or even intimacy so it’s like… what am I really missing out on or think I’m missing out on? A lot of these people settled & aren’t happy. Too many of them. And of course that’s not the case for everyone which is great! but it seems to be the case for a bit too many people and that’s kind of when things clicked for me and I worked on enjoying the love I was already receiving. But I also don’t care to get married and I don’t want children so maybe that’s why it might be a bit easier for me to think like this.

Just be super super mindful of what you wish for because I had a friend in this situation. She got what she wanted and now she’s become very regretful and life is too short for that! So while your friends may show that they have it all perfect with the happy ending, ask them about the seriousness and downs of it all. They will totally spill the beans and it might make you think “oh wow, maybe I have some future milestones to revise.”because that’s where a lot of these feelings stem from, being promised from a young age that you’re gonna fall in love, get married & have a family & live a perfect life and it’s because they paint you a picture but behind that picture there’s quite the mess. So do not feel bad for being a “late bloomer” in this area. You’ve truly saved yourself a lot of heartbreak and headaches without even knowing.

Sorry if it was long lol

[galacticlamps]

I was tagged by @terryfphanatics​ (thanks! sorry I took forever - I started answering these & didn’t finish and just remembered it was in my drafts)

What book are you currently reading?

The Two Towers! which upsets me bc I’ve been at it since August (technically - I wasn’t ‘at it’ in, uh, October, November, December, January, or February, for lack of time - but I’m back at it now, and I even convinced myself to start over from the beginning so I didn’t forget anything)

What's your favourite movie you saw in a cinema this year?

sorry but the last time I went to a movie theater was probably in 2017, 2018 at the latest, so... yeah I’ve got nothing

What do you usually wear?

jeans, boots, at this point in the winter usually some combination of flannels, sweaters and/or sweatshirts. (I’ve been really cold lately)

How tall are you?

5′6″ ish

What's your star sign?

capricorn

Do you share your birthday with a celebrity or historical event?

I do, yeah

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

mostly nicknames, I have quite a few at this point. I’ve yet to pick one to use on here, I should probably do that soon, I’ve been meaning to for years now

Did you grow up to be what you wanted to be as a child?

I don’t recall ever wanting to be anything in particular as a child, honestly, but I can say that so far I’ve pretty much stuck to the career path that first caught my interest in high school, if that counts

Are you in a relationship? Who is your crush if not?

nope! and it’s been a very long time since I’ve had a serious crush either, which I’m honestly grateful for. I wouldn’t want to be in a relationship at this exact point in my life anyway, so I’m just gonna keep vaguely admiring every funny girl who’s kind to me for the time being without actually developing feelings for her. I hope It seems to be going well so far mostly

What's something you're good at versus something you're bad at?

(I’m trying to think of two that relate to each other)

I am very good at drawing objects and not at all good at drawing people! technical plans are something I’ve dealt with extensively both academically & professionally, but in the more general sense I’ve always been an ‘I can’t draw’ person. tbh I should find some of those artists who complain about backgrounds and just do all their architecture etc for them

Dogs or cats?

nothing against dogs but cats for sure, always cats

What's something you'd like to create content for?

not to sound like a jerk, but I work in the arts industry & really hate the place ‘content creation’ has come to occupy in everyone’s vocabulary, even though I totally realize that in a context like this it’s probably just trying to be a vague enough term to be inclusive of the many different things people can create. I like writing the fanfic that I do, so without switching subjects, I would like to get better at drawing people because sometimes I have ideas that would be better expressed as images or even short comics

What's something you're currently obsessed with?

Obsessing over 60s who is my baseline so I don’t think that counts - but it’s been almost a month since I watched Holding Achilles & there have only been hours when I didn’t think of it, not entire days

What's something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

Ngl, (& not to be a total downer, but) the last 12 months-ish have been an extremely busy/hectic/unpredictable year for me, with both the good & the bad stuff coming out of left field most of the time. So while there were certainly more than enough disappointments, for the most part, they weren’t the kinds of things you could be excited about beforehand (relatives dying, people fighting, strained relationships, illnesses, work stuff in a perpetual state of flux - or as I’ve taken to calling it: death disease & dubious employment). I suppose there were a lot of events I wanted to make it to that I didn’t, due to the aforementioned junk, and I certainly imagined myself getting to read more books & write more fics than I did, but that doesn’t feel like a good specific answer.

What's a hidden talent of yours?

I suppose that depends who you ask? There are lots of work or work-adjacent skills I could name that would be news to people on here, but those are such prominent parts of my life otherwise that they definitely don’t feel ‘hidden.’ But I guess even among people who expect me to be handy/crafty, more overtly artistic things tend to surprise them - like I’ve had people forget that I was the one who painted something, for instance, because that’s not the kind of skill most associate with me. (and I am very good with color & pigment tbh)

Are you religious?

nah. I’m not like, a committed atheist or anything either, I just grew up catholic & don’t go in for that anymore, nor do I have any desire to go seek out another faith

What's something you wish to have at this moment?

time uh, let’s say a haircut

tagging people kinda seems rude after taking multiple months to come up with so many kind of non-answers oops, but if anyone would like to copy the questions, either as an opportunity to do a little q&a or an excuse to tag/ask your friends, be my guest

[thevalleyisjolly]

Hello! For that most recent ask, would you do the 001 questions for D20 a starstruck odyssey? :D

Sure! Thanks so much for the ask!

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character: I'm gonna have to go with Skip or Gunthrie!

Least Favorite character: Honestly can't think of one! To be honest, ASO is not one of my favourite D20 seasons and very few of the characters really stood out to me enough to say that I truly dislike them.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): The Wurst I don't think I could name 5 ships I really found compelling this season, but I guess I have a vaguely soft spot for Barry Syx/Skip?

Character I find most attractive: Ronnie Kwan

Character I would marry: None of them

Character I would be best friends with: Gunthrie!

a random thought: Kudos to Siobhan for having Riva leave at the end, it takes real confidence as a D&D player to know exactly who your character is and where they're going on the journey and when it's time for them to move beyond the narrative.

An unpopular opinion: No offence for people who really like this season, I just find it one of D20's weaker seasons in terms of story cohesion, character development, and overall setting fatigue. The character concepts are cool, but it kind of felt like they were so caught up in the cool setting that they spent a lot of time pursuing a bunch of different threads? Which is fine if you want a more open-sandbox campaign, but then they tried to tie all the threads together in the last third of the season and it didn’t really feel like it came together cohesively.

My Canon OTP: None, really

My Non-canon OTP: Also none, really

Most Badass Character: You have to hand it to Margaret Encino, she's on top of shit!

Most Epic Villain: Eh, Jan De La Vega? Just because her character concept is cool and she feels a little more fleshed out than the other antagonists.

Pairing I am not a fan of: Again, none

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): Norman Takamori. Zac salvaged it at the end there, but his treatment in the campaign was really a let down.

Favourite Friendship: I'm sure there was a friendship I liked while the season was airing, but nothing that I can remember now.

Character I most identify with: Probably Gunthrie or Auma Liu, tbh

Character I wish I could be: I want to be as cool as Ronnie Kwan.

[dathen]

Okay I have some complicated thoughts following Melanie’s arc that all build on top of each other and hinge HEAVILY on unreliable narrator interpretations so bear with me

In my relisten I’m at the beginning of s3, and it always shocks me a bit at how quickly she interprets Martin’s interaction with her as hostile.  I’m going to skip over the “it’s understandable, Melanie’s had a hard time in her career” disclaimers since there’s plenty of meta on that already, and instead follow the effects of this tendency: not on others, this time, but on her

(This got absurdly long and covers so many episodes so I’m going to split it into separate pre- and post-bullet surgery posts)

Rewinding a bit, the last time she was at the Institute, she was starting to get along with Jon before he seemed confused about her comment on “the other Sasha.”  It takes her a split second to interpret that confusion as him suddenly deciding to gaslight and mock her, gets angry and tells him there is something seriously wrong with him, and leaves before he can ask what she means.  Given how tenuous their truce was and the fact she and Jon had mocked each other in the past, it’s an outburst that at least has some personal history behind it.

But only a couple episodes later, we learn that it’s not just Jon she responds to in this way.  In TMA 84, she meets our Martin Blackwood!  Customer service voice opposite-of-Jon politeness extraordinaire!  And as soon as he gets confused about the two Sasha comment, she.......immediately assumes that HE is also trying to gaslight her.  She insists that “I’m not doing this again” without giving him a chance to ask or explain, so they miss the opportunity to piece together the deal with the Not!Sasha.  Her doing this with someone she just met shows a much broader pattern than her interactions with Jon.

That very episode, Elias offers Melanie a job, and she accepts despite Martin’s protests.  Later, she accuses them all of them being an “old boy’s club” because she interpreted Martin’s warnings as sexism rather than trying to protect her.  As the audience, we see the unreliable narrator of her perspective at work: we know that Jon and Martin were genuinely confused, and we know that Martin was trying to save her, and that all of these instances were her seeing it as people being out to get her.

Hop forward to the notorious gossip scene in TMA 106.  Here, Melanie complains about Martin being hostile to her.  My first assumption was that this was all offscreen, but after this parade of misinterpretation and comparing to her and Martin’s actual interactions, I have to wonder:

TMA 84, after Martin tells Melanie about the murder, and right before Elias interrupts:

Martin:  Are you sure you’re alright?

Melanie:  Yes!  I just got… God, I’m kind of at the end, you know?

Martin:  The end of what?

Melanie:   Everything.  Friends, clues, savings. Everything.  Options.  There’s nowhere left for me to go . I don’t know why, but…  I just, I just felt that perhaps coming here might help.  And talking things out with Jon.  I mean, I mean he’s awful, but at least he listens, you know?

Martin:   (soft) Yeah.  ...I’m sorry.  Um, is there anything that I could, like, maybe...do for you?

They get interrupted immediately after this, so this was the first impression Melanie was given.  Then, when Elias offers the job, she...assumes Martin’s “I don’t think that’s a good idea” is from sexism, when he’d just been talking about murders and disappearances that caused that very job opening.

TMA 88 

Melanie:   Are you alright?

Martin:  Yeah… Sorry, just a lot of change recently, y’know.  You and John and Sasha and… everything’s gone a bit wrong.  It’s the not knowing, you know?  I mean, Jon’s still alive.  Not sure why, but I’m sure of that.  But Sasha, I…

Melanie:   Yes, it’s… it’s probably, um…

Martin:   Sorry, sorry, I’m...  What do you need?

Next interaction!  Oh this one HURTS.  Martin takes her question literally, and starts telling her why she’s not alright, a reverse of their earlier exchange.  But Melanie came by for a question and wasn’t prepared for an honest answer, so Martin quickly reels it in and asks what he can do for her once again.

Skipping forward a bit in that same scene:

Martin:   Oh, you weren’t here when we took the place over from Gertrude!  It’s been over a year just to get it like this.  I mean, I think the database was on Jon’s list, but--

Melanie:  So how do you track someone down?

Martin:   Oh, oh well, y’know, we’ve a few contacts in various record offices around the place.  Aside from that it’s just… just a bit of detective work, really.  Tim used to do a great line in impersonating people to utility companies!  Heh, the number of times he got them to give him ‘his own’ address--

Melanie:  Right, right… Um, this one, the name is 'Jude Perry.’ Doesn’t mean anything to you, does it?

I LOVE THIS EXCHANGE.  I TREASURE IT.  Having bottled up his emotions, Martin is going in full Friendly Helpful Coworker mode.  There are so many little details here signaling that he’s embracing her as part of the team, sharing anecdotes about Tim’s shenanigans and Jon’s old plans, looping her in as One of Them as he helps her get what she needs.  This is the kind of approach you go to management trainings to get, to help new hires feel welcome and part of things.  But alas, Melanie is in a hurry and wants to cut to the chase, so all this is lost on her.

TMA 98 - I won’t copy it all in here because it’s long, but this is an overwhelmingly positive interaction.  She asks if he’s okay, but he bottles it up and says he’s fine.  This time, she presses, and he admits it’s because of the statements.  Martin ends up asking for help!! and Melanie agrees!  She’s on the way to murder Elias, but she still gets credit for “I’ll ask him to cut you some slack.”  Then she invites him to drinks!

And then.... TMA 106

Melanie:   Anyway, Martin’s always been lovely to you.

Basira:  Hmm. I don’t know, I mean, you should have seen him when I turned up last year. I think he thought I was trying to steal his precious Archivist.

Melanie:   Ahhh. I got the exact same when Jon was hiding out, and came to me with his “source on the inside” stuff.  Martin was not impressed.

WAIT WHAT

We just looked over all their interactions!  They were all soft and lovely and welcoming!!  But then we hear Melanie with “well unlike how he is to me, Martin is nice to you.”  This was taken at face value for years, but when you line up all of the above, I feel there is a strong basis to say this is another case of Melanie’s first impressions + over-defensiveness gone wrong.  Just like we saw her initial bickerings with Jon solidify into series-long hostility, her interpreting Martin’s confusion as gaslighting and warnings about the job as sexism seems to have doomed her opinion of him long-term.  We hear Martin being kind and concerned and welcoming, then hear Melanie contrast it as bad treatment.

Recently, a mutual considered this even further to how she talked about losing all of her friends with the Ghost Hunt UK circles:

Melanie:  Even back then, I could feel all my old friends starting to distance themselves from me. ...  I stopped asking the others for help, and I kept my research to myself. I talked to them less and less. By the time I was arrested, I think a lot of them had already given up on me.

I have to wonder...did this sort of dynamic play out here, too?  Did she assume that her friends’ concern was judgment or hostility?  Were they giving up on her, or did she lash out and push them away?  Either way, it’s easy to see parallels to s2 Jon in her description, here, with her withdrawing and diving alone into increasingly risky research without asking for help.  And s2 Jon definitely shared Melanie’s tendency to see offers for help and support as hostile.  (Aside:  I interpret her and Georgie as not very close at this point, like a networking contact rather than a friend; Melanie comes to Jon for someone to talk to about her struggles above her, and Georgie seems to be unaware of all of Melanie’s encounters pre-s3)

And on that downer note I am ending part 1...but PART 2 IS GOING TO BE WAY HAPPIER THAN THIS.  Here, we see Melanie with a lot of people who would have supported her if she let them:  Martin, Jon, possibly the friends she said abandoned her.  But in her effort to protect herself and not let history repeat for how she’d been hurt in the past, she ends up alone and spiraling.

[idy-ll-ique]

Cravings.

Pairing: Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff overdose

Warnings: none

Requested: nope

based off this prompt

Summary: How Y/N's pregnancy cravings led to her becoming friends with Captain America, The White Wolf, The Scarlet Witch and Vision.

Author's Note: hiya peeps! i am in love with Sam Wilson. but like, who isn't? this is sort of an AU, but not really. takes place in phase 4 of mcu. enjoy!

masterlist

---

Mm, that smells so good…

Y/N took in a deep breath as a sweet, sweet, tangy smell hit her nose. "You smell it, honey?" she cooed, cupping her bulging abdomen as her baby kicked once. Then the kicking increased and she groaned, heaving herself off the couch. "Baby, we can't have it, it's not our food. We already had dinner, sweet—" She whined when her baby kicked twice.

"Maybe they'll understand…?" she whispered to herself. Y/N was 8 months pregnant and lately, her cravings had been at an all time high. Every time she got a craving for something she couldn't have, the baby in her belly wouldn't stop kicking and she'd go to sleep upset, tired and hurt. And today, the baby wanted whatever the neighbors were cooking.

She wasn't really familiar with the neighbors; she liked keeping to herself, and with the addition of the baby and single parenthood, she didn't want to disturb anyone or break the peace. Soon, the kicking got really uncomfortable and Y/N grabbed a plate, walking out of the house. They'll understand, she told herself, they have to. If not then they're heartless cows.

"So, Wilson, you've got a nice apartment here, thought you were living with your sister and nephews at the docks," Bucky grinned, popping open a bottle of beer. "Moved out a couple weeks ago, didn't wanna intrude. Plus she has a boyfriend, it's getting kinda serious between them…" Sam chuckled, "Wanda, whatcha cookin? Smells really good!"

A very pregnant Wanda Maximoff walked out of the kitchen, a huge smile on her face. She was 7 months in with twins. "I'm cooking Borscht, it's a traditional Ukrainian recipe that I like very much. You're gonna love it," she gushed and Bucky raised his glass in mock toast. "Can't wait!" Just then, the bell rang. "I'll get it!" Sam shouted, walking up to the door.

He opened it and saw his neighbor standing there, holding an empty plate. Her head was downcast and she was squirming, fidgeting. Sam had seen her once or twice since he moved in; she was very much pregnant, and she liked keeping to herself so he never invaded her privacy. "Hi, how can I help ya?" He smiled at her. She got startled and looked up, opening her mouth.

Y/N was speechless. She already felt bad about asking her neighbor something like this and now he reveals himself to be this handsome?! "Hello…?" she snapped out of her thoughts and cleared her throat. "I— I'm sorry, I don't wanna intrude…" Bucky showed up behind Sam and she glanced at him, her eyes going wide.

"You have company, oh no, I'm sorry— not now, baby, let's just go—" she whispered, wincing and whimpering in pain when the baby started kicking again. Sam nodded his head towards Bucky who got the hint and left. He then walked outside and closed the door behind him, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "Hey, you can ask me anything, what happened?"

"It's embarrassing…"

"Come on, sweetheart, I'm your neighbor! Sam, by the way, Sam Wilson." She gave him a timid smile. "Y/N Y/L/N. It's just… whatever you're cooking smells really nice and I got a craving; it's wrong, it's your food, your party and I'm intruding like an idiot, it's just— my baby gets really agitated when I don't get what I'm craving for and they kick all night, I'm so sorry—"

Sam grabbed both her shoulders, silencing her. "Don't be embarrassed by this. It's fine, you got a craving? I'll give you some of the food! Wanda, my friend who's cooking, is also 7 months pregnant, believe it or not. She'll be so happy to give you the food, it's a new recipe she's trying and the more people there to eat the better. Why don't you join us?" Y/N sniffled, the kindness of her neighbor and her pregnancy hormones reducing her to tears.

"You're so kind," she whispered and Sam laughed, giving her a warm hug. "But I don't want to intrude." He sighed but understood. "Okay, how about when she's done cooking, you take some of the food home? Will that be okay?" She nodded. "In the meantime, I'd love for you to meet my friends. Wanda especially, wanna come in?" Y/N agreed and the two walked into the apartment.

Bucky and Vision, who were in the sitting room at the time, looked up. Y/N gave them an awkward smile, raising a hand to wipe her tears off. "Hi there," Vision greeted. "Hello, I'm… I'm Y/N, Sam's neighbor, it's nice to meet you," she mumbled shyly. "Hi Y/N, I'm Bucky and this is Vision," Bucky introduced and she nodded. "So, um, there's gonna be a party here…?"

"Oh no, just old friends catching up over dinner. Wanda!" The woman walked out of the kitchen, her eyes lighting up when she saw Y/N. "Hey!" Y/N smiled at her. "Hi, I'm Y/N, nice to meet you." Wanda beamed at Sam. "Your neighbor? Very nice to meet you too, miss!" After a small conversation the Scarlet Witch went back to the kitchen while Sam coaxed Y/N into sitting.

"So, what brings you here?" Bucky asked, glancing at the empty plate. "Cravings," Y/N sighed as Sam followed Wanda to the kitchen, "My baby gets really agitated when I don't get what I'm craving, it's a problem… I didn't want to intrude, it's just… the food smells so nice and I… I actually want to sleep tonight. Just a tiny portion, I'll be gone before you know it."

Bucky frowned at her words. "Gone— hey, we don't mean to make you feel unwelcome here, why don't you stay for dinner? I'm sure Sam offered too, it's really not a big deal. You won't be intruding and Wanda will be delighted to have another member around who wants to eat her traditional recipe, right Vis?" Vision smiled at Y/N and nodded. "Yes, please stay."

"Okay, since you're asking so nicely," she joked and all three of them laughed. "Dinner's ready! Who wants some Borscht?!" Wanda exclaimed gleefully, walking out of the kitchen with a pile of plates and cutlery as Sam followed with a pot with steam coming out of it. "Guess what? Y/N's decided to stay!" Bucky announced and all of them cheered, Wanda giving Y/N a hug.

"That's amazing news!"

"Oh, you managed to talk her into it, how nice…"

Bucky smirked and swung an arm over Sam's shoulders. "Girls like me better than you, pal, accept— ow! I was joking!" Y/N giggled as Sam shoved Bucky off him, giving him a punch on the arm for good measure. "You two seem like really good friends," she commented and Vision scoffed. "You should've seen them when they first met. Couldn't stand each other."

"Oh please, every great friendship starts out like that, am I right?" Wanda nudged Y/N and she grinned. The five of them sat down to eat; Sam served everyone the Borscht. "So, how many months along are you?" Wanda questioned. "8, how about you?" "7, there's twins in there." Y/N gasped. "How lovely! I've always wanted twins, they're so cool."

"I used to have a twin brother," Wanda shrugged. "That's— wow. So, which one of the three is it? Or is he at home?" Y/N smirked. "Vision here, we got married a year ago, it was a small ceremony, only close friends." Y/N grinned at Vision. "Awesome! Congratulations, guys!" Vision and Wanda smiled at each other. "How about you, if you don't mind me asking?"

Y/N's mood dimmed slightly but she kept the smile on her face. "My ex, he got me pregnant. Not really much of a happy story; I love my baby, I really do but I'm gonna have to raise them alone; he said he doesn't even want to visit, let alone pay child support, I just— come on, I'm boring you with the story, I don't wanna be a Debby Downer," she waved in dismissal.

"That's so wrong of him! Give us a name and we'll make that bastard pay up," Sam glared, which made Y/N smile a bit. "It's okay, Sam, you don't have to. I have a nice job, and he isn't that good of a person anyway, it's better if he's out of my life for good. I can't wait to try the Borscht, Wanda." Dinner after that was fun and fairly uneventful.

---

Y/N was watching TV the next morning when someone rang the doorbell. She blinked and opened the door to see Sam standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a small smile on his face. "Sam, hi, what brings you here?" she smiled back at him. "Have you had breakfast?" Y/N frowned slightly and shook her head. "Not yet, I was just about to cook. Why?"

"Will you join me? There's a lot of Borscht left if you're interested." She grinned at him; how had she not introduced herself to him earlier?! "That sounds really nice, thank you for the offer! Let's go." The two walked to Sam's apartment and Y/N sat on the couch as Sam went to the kitchen to get the food. "I actually have something to ask," Sam began as the two sat down to eat.

"What happened?" Y/N questioned curiously, a hand resting on her belly as she ate the delicious Borscht. "I want you to tell me about all your cravings from now on. Anything you want, no matter how weird. I really want to help you, Y/N, will you allow me to do it? I just… I don't want you to suffer anymore, I'm here for you. A friend. Please?" Y/N blinked at him, shocked.

Surely he wasn't that nice? "You really want to do that?" she gasped. "I do. I feel really bad about how your ex just left you so vulnerable and full of responsibility, and he won't even help with the baby, I— I want to take some of the responsibility. It'll make me feel good." Y/N nodded instantly. "That's so nice of you, thank you! I'd love that, you offering to help… you're an angel."

Sam flushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck, a goofy smile on his face. "Just helping a friend in need." The doorbell rang all of a sudden and Sam sat up, alert. "What?" Y/N whispered. "I'm not expecting anyone. Stay here." Grabbing a gun from a drawer near the dining table Sam put it in his back pocket and went to answer the door. Upon opening the door, he saw a man.

The man was dressed in black trousers and a band t-shirt, his hair a rough mess and a glare on his face. "Can I help you?" Sam frowned. "Your neighbor, Y/N, have you seen her? I'm her ex boyfriend." Sam's blood boiled when he introduced himself but he kept his cool. "I haven't seen her, I'm sorry. She isn't very social, you know and I respect people's privacy."

The man groaned and left. Sam returned to the living room, keeping his gun away with a sigh. "What happened, Sam, everything okay?" Y/N asked worriedly when he sat back down in front of his plate. "Don't be mad." Y/N's frown deepened with confusion. "Why, who was at the door?" He looked up at her. "Your ex. I sent him away. Did you want to talk to him?"

Y/N froze for a minute but then scoffed, wrapping her arms around her middle. "Thank you for that, I wasn't ready to see him. I'm not mad at you, by the way." Sam nodded and the two spent the rest of breakfast in silence.

---

"Y/N! I know you're in there!"

"Go away!"

Upon hearing the commotion out in the corridor Sam opened his front door, seeing Y/N's ex boyfriend banging on the door to her apartment. 3 weeks had passed since he showed up at Sam's house. "Is there a problem here?" he asked calmly and the ex boyfriend turned to him. "Dude, it's none of your business," he sneered but Sam simply raised an eyebrow.

"Y/N is my friend, I think I'd know when she'd want me to intervene."

"Well now's not the time, pal, go back in! Y/N and I are having a personal conversation," he scoffed. "Oh really? Because to me it sounds like she's asking you to go away," Sam rolled his eyes. All of a sudden Y/N's front door swung open and she stepped out, looking between both men. Her eyes lit up when she saw Sam.

Over the course of 3 weeks, Y/N had come to like Sam a lot. Along with being handsome as fuck, he was also really kind, sweet and caring; he bought for her all that she craved, let it be the middle of the night or the afternoon. She also found out that he was an Avenger, previously used to be known as the Falcon but now, Captain America. She trusted him even more, knowing he'd protect her from anything.

"Sam!" she smiled brightly, pushing past her ex to run to Sam. He gave her a tight hug, keeping an arm around her as they both turned to Y/N's ex, who was staring at them, jaw dropped. "A friend, huh, Sam?" he sneered but Sam only stared at him with disdain. "Don't talk to him like that! You weren't even here when I needed you, and now I have an awesome guy helping me with things and you suddenly wanna show up?!"

"Y/N—"

"No, you shut up! You're just a coward and— and an asshole and I don't want anything to do with you anymore. Leave and if you come back, I'll call the police on you, I swear—" Sam cut her off by chuckling wryly. "Sweetheart, I'm an Avenger, are you forgetting? Next time this guy shows up, call Bucky. I'll give you his number. I'm sure Buck will have a lotta fun teaching this guy a lesson."

Y/N beamed at Sam. "Okay!" Y/N's ex stared at the two, jaw dropped. "You're both crazy," he whispered, "Crazy maniacs, I tell you!" Y/N and Sam stared after him with broad smiles as the man left, grumbling under his breath. "Ugh, he's been showing up every day for 3 weeks, and today he created a scene. So sorry about that, Sam, I hope I didn't disturb anything."

"Aw, Y/N, you know I care about you. Don't worry, I was just watching TV. He shows up again, you call me first. I'm always here for you." Y/N gave him a timid smile, rubbing her belly. "I actually wanted to ask you something if you don't mind…" Sam nodded at her to go on. The truth was, he liked her too. She was super adorable, and the pregnant belly of hers made her glow like an angel.

One of the main reasons why he decided to help her out so eagerly was the fact that he wanted to get closer to her, maybe ask her out someday in the future. They would be a happy little family; Sam, Y/N and the baby. He was ready to look after them both, no bias to the baby. "...Sam?" He snapped out of his thoughts, blinked and shook his head.

"Sorry, sorry, got lost in thoughts. What?" The timid smile was back on her face. "I was just wondering if you'd like to go on a date sometime with me… of course you can say no, I won't mind, but I'd really like it if you say yes…" No way. "Y/N, I'd love to go on a date with you, that's fantastic! How about this Saturday, two days from now, at 8 we go to dinner?"

Y/N smiled brightly at his words. "Oh— okay, okay, that will be great! Yeah, yeah, Saturday works for me. So, um, see you then— or maybe before that if I need something, I—" Sam smiled at her endearing behavior as he skittishly ran back to her apartment, a giddy smile on her face. "The things you do to me, Ms Y/L/N," Sam laughed to himself as he went back to his own apartment.

---

A loud, wailing noise pulled Sam out of his slumber. He immediately sat up and checked his phone, walking out of his apartment to ring Y/N's doorbell. She opened the door with a tired smile on her face, greeting him with a quick kiss. "Little one giving you trouble?" he smiled fondly as the two went to the baby's bedroom, who was sobbing at the top of his lungs.

A few days had passed since Y/N had given birth, and since Sam and Y/N started dating. She had a little boy; they named him Luke. "The crying just doesn't stop," Y/N sighed, leaning against the doorframe as Sam entered the bedroom, picking Luke up. The baby quieted instantly, peering up at Sam with his big eyes. "There, there, don't cry. We gotta let your mommy get some sleep or she becomes very cranky."

"Hey!" Sam grinned at her. "I was only kidding, darling, you know I like you," he winked and Y/N shook her head. "Good thing I like you too." A few minutes later, as the baby fell asleep again, Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and saw multiple, hurried texts from Vision. "What happened?" Y/N asked him as he stared at the phone, trying to make sense of the messages. "I don't know."

Y/N grabbed his phone and looked through the cryptic messages, her eyes going wide. "Wanda is in labor! The twins are coming," she whispered and an incredulous expression showed up on Sam's face. "She's only 8 months in, that can't be right." Y/N slapped her forehead. "They're twins, Cap, they always come early. Go to the hospital, I'll see you tomorrow morning."

They shared another kiss, giving each other smiles. "I'll see you then." Sam then left the apartment, rolling his eyes at another weird message Vision had left him.

"For God's sake, you're a robot, how hard is it to type?!"

---

A/N: Thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[wigglebox]

Jensen's answer today plus the past couple of cons has officially put my jackles long con tinhat in the garbage. It hurts how little he seems to care about cas and how quickly he's reverted to old bibro ways once he's on stage with jarold (looks like the jivorce is off too lol). Sorry for the downer ask, just don't know if I can get over this one, no matter how many cute cockles ops we get. Cas deserved so much better than this. 💔

fish it back out because he does not like the fact dean died did not like the finale etc etc.

he has not reverted back to his old bibro ways but i think we SHOULDN'T be rooting for a jivorce here. we don't WANT them to hate each other. life is better for everyone when everyone gets along and if they can get along again then that's fantastic news especially if more SPN projects are coming down the road.

you need to understand he's contractually obligated to be at these cons and he's going to get asked questions about this finale and he has to answer them while standing next to jared. like that's it, you need to accept it.

no one in j2 panels is going to ask about cas, especially gold panels, because cas fans aren't IN those audiences. some are, but they don't get to ask the questions, and when they do, jared hops in and just rambles on about whatever he rambled about at dencon. keep in mind jackles brought up 1518 unprompted at that con during their gold panel.

i know you may be feeling low right now, idk if you're a new fan or not or we just kind of forgot how creation cons have gone beacuse we hadn't had them for a year and a half but literally nothing about this is new.

but keep in mind that since like, july 2019 when i think he recorded the first michael rosenbaum podcast, he was talking about getting the band back together if they didn't end on a good note. by that point, he knew what the ending was going to be. he just didn't know what the reaction was going to be.

but he knows what the reaction was now.

but also keep in mind he has to straddle a line, be professional, and keep in mind who his audience is and what he can actually talk about.

and i think it's good for all of us to remember to never root for bad energy like a jivorce. the memes are fun, the spec is interesting, but we should never root for the ending of a friendship.

[recurring-polynya]

hi! i love reading all of your writing advice. i was wondering if you had any advice to offer about finishing pieces? i find myself starting so many and losing the thread.

I wanted to answer this a lot earlier, but I couldn't, because when I got it, I was literally in the agonies of trying to end a fanfic, and I couldn't, in good conscience, give advice on a topic while I was weeping and gnashing and rolling around on the ground over it.

However, the fanfic is done, and I am happy to say that the thing I was going to tell you anyway worked decently well, it is now tested.

What you need to do is ask yourself: what needs to happen for this story to be done? What is it that your story needs to do? I am an engineer by training, and in engineering, whenever you are making something, you define (or are handed) some specs or requirements. Make me a nozzle that sprays 1 gallon per minute in a 60 degree fan. Design me some software that takes a user input and securely adds it to a database. A story is an object that you design that fulfills a function, you just need to decide what it is.

The best time to make this decision, I am sorry to say, is before you start writing, but the next best time is right now. I think a lot of times people start a story based on an AU or some sort of scenario, and they have a whole bunch of thoughts about it and they start writing, but they don't actually have a direction in mind, and all of a sudden, it's like, where do I go with this?

Some stories are simple narratives: you have put your characters into a scrape and you just need to get them out. Other times, the story is a mood piece, your goal is to show that your main character loves his son, even though he appears closed off and grumpy. In the story I was working on, which was fairly short, the things I decided I need to do were: 1) have the characters part ways at the end, and 2) end on a tense note (it was a downer of a story, and it was important that they tried and failed to resolve the emotional conflict they were experiencing).

If you're having trouble with this, ask yourself this question: what is my story about? It might be helpful to try to write out something like an ao3 story blurb (I know these are hard to write, but a lot of time they are hard to write because you don't know what your story is about). It doesn't need to be zingy or zippy, though, it can just be something like "this is a story about two people who fall in love but they can't get together because they are from warring factions." You look at that and you can see the various endings: either they end up together, or they don't, those are the choices.

Once you have that defined, then look where you are, and figure out how to get from here to there. In the example above, maybe you decide you want them to live. How can that happen? Do they have to end the whole war? That sounds hard. Can one of them defect? Can they escape to another place? That sounds good! They need a shuttlecraft. Can they steal one? Oh, Character B is a space mechanic, maybe they can cobble some junk together! See how that works?

For a story where the end condition is "learn the meaning of friendship," you may have to sit down and say, well, what is the scenario that would show the two characters are friends now? Can I just do that right now, or do I need to lay more groundwork? What is that groundwork? Have them begrudgingly work together on a project? Have one witness the other being kind to a mutual acquaintance? Have the other learn an important piece of contextual backstory about the first? Repeat until you can draw a dotted line from where you are to where you need to be.

Anytime I write a story that's more than ~10k words, I keep a ancillary Google doc of notes for it (if it's less than 10k, I just keep notes down at the bottom). Here are the sorts of things I keep in my notes:

- Character goals/motivations. Whenever I don't know where to go with my story, I look these notes and say to myself, what can happen to move them further along this path? What would have to happen in this story to make it complete for this character? Keeping this in mind also helps me to know what the character is going to do in any given situation, so it also very helpful for keeping your characters consistent, or if they have character growth, to make sure it progresses the way you intend.

- A lot of the time, I will set time constraints on a story. Let's say it takes place over a week. I'll write out the days of the week and what happens each day (even if it's "nothing"). This is probably my #1 "finishing a fanfic" trick, simply deciding what time frame you're gonna have, and then forcing yourself to deal with it.

- A chapter-by-chapter breakdown, with just a short summary of the important events that happen each chapter. I usually make this after I have been working on the fic for a while, because I usually let chapter length emerge naturally. If you're trying to wrap up a multichapter fanfic, you might just say "I want to end this in three chapters" and then try to figure out what can happen into those three chapters to get you to a satisfactory resolution.

- This has nothing to do with ending a fanfic, but whenever I delete a scene I don't like, I paste it into the bottom of the notes doc, so I can cannibalize it later (sometimes for another story even), or just read it years later for lolz.

I hope this is helpful! Ending things is really hard! I'm sorry I don't have a more fun answer than "planning", because I hate planning more than anyone, but sometimes it just be like that!

Note: I have written all of this under the assumption that what you are asking is "how to I steer an undirected plotline to a resolution?" and not "how do I come up with a last line for a story?" because if it's the second, that is my absolute worst weakness as a writer and you are just going to have to ask someone else. 😂

[vv3nti]

liar — t. oikawa & h. iwaizumi

synopsis—a love triangle of unrequited love

warnings—angst , unrequited love , break-up , some aspects based off american high school , there may be a little ooc i'm still learning to writing the hq boys sorry :/

a/n—this is a one-shot i wrote i'm hoping to make into a series- i've started part two so that's promised if not a series, send an ask or wtv to be tagged for that <3

“I’m tired of hiding, Tooru. I’m tired of being kept a secret.” You said softly, twirling the necklace around your neck between two fingers. The weight of this relationship finally lifting off your shoulders, but that didn’t stop the inevitable thump growing in your throat. You love Oikawa, you really do, but you can’t keep going like this. Your heart won’t allow it. You want someone proud to show you off and cherish you with all they have. Maybe, your expectations were too high from the beginning; if you had set the bar lower, this all could have been avoided. Or if Oikawa truly cared for you, loved you as he said he did. Whatever the reason, the dull ache was too much to bear. “I can’t do this anymore; it hurts too much.”

Oikawa had not expected those words to leave your plush lips. No, he thought you’d complain again, he’d kiss it better, and you would forget about it, like usual. But this—this was the last thing he wanted to hear. You were happy; he was sure of it. What the hell provoked you to feel like this? “What do you mean? We agreed we would wait.”

“Yeah, months ago.” You wave your hand through the air. You had no intention of allowing the boy to dismiss your concerns, not again. “And every time I mention it, you disregard my feelings like they don’t matter.”

His eyebrows furrowed, a clear frown set on his face. “Of course, your feelings matter to me.”

“If that were true, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Anxiety started creeping up your spine, a deep shiver demersing. You couldn’t help but feel off-put; if you didn’t end the conversation fast, you knew you’d slip back in his clutches. “Please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be. No one even knew we were together; that means things can go back to normal.”

“Normal?” He mumbled, eyes downcast to the floor. “What does that even mean? Nevermind that—is this about my fangirls? Because I can tell them to back off. Or Mei? Did she say something to you.” Oikawa’s calm demeanor began to wear off, and panic soon set it. The perfect picture he had planted in his head was decaying within the second, and he couldn’t manage the thought. He couldn’t even see the harsh reality behind his imagination; nothing about your relationship was ideal. Oikawa pushed you too far off the deep end, and as he tried to meet his own needs, he neglected yours.

His hands reached out to you, afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t get ahold of you soon.

The mention of his ex stung a little more than it should. But what are you supposed to feel? Tooru was publicly dating her for a lot longer than you've been together and you felt inferior to her in so many ways. They didn't break up on bad terms and you can't help but wonder if he still has feelings for her—it would justify his need to keep you a secret. “No! I’m done, I’m done with this, Tooru. This how couples are supposed to act; I don’t want to act like this. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing this. I need time, a break, anything but this.”

That night you both went home with a gaping hole in your chest and beds a little colder than before. Uncertainty crept in; was this a temporary break or a breakup. Neither of you had the answer.

You spent the first day of the long weekend cooped in your room, fresh tear streaks following the tracks on the old. On Sunday, you had to head to the school to decorate lockers for senior night or week in Sejohs case; the volleyball team had games on Tuesday and Friday this week. Luckily your appointed third year was Iwaizumi, so you didn’t have to trouble over an awkward encounter with Oikawa. Monday consisted of endless baking; it was safe to say you went slightly overboard. Assortments of brownies, cupcakes, mini cheesecakes, and peach cobbler aligned the countertops. One might say you’re a stress baker.

On the contrary, Oikawa spent his weekend hounding down on his team with tiring drills and repetitive rotations. His temper was short, and his attitude anything but playful. None of the club members wanted to be the one to confront their captain, leaving him alone in his thoughts—thoughts about you. At night he got little to no sleep, spending his sleepless nights replaying all his wrongs as if the answer will all of a sudden appear. But how is Oikawa supposed to fix a problem he didn’t even know what there.

Tuesday rolled around faster than anyone could have expected. You sat restlessly in the clubroom, waiting for Iwaizumi to meet you there. You requested him to join you in the room, considering you didn’t walk to school with him and Oikawa as you usually would. Regardless of where you interacted, you knew Iwa had many questions, and you’d preferably be interrogated in private than in front of the entire student body.

Iwa rushed into the room, school bag around his shoulder and one of his jerseys flailing in his hand. “Hey,” He spoke, his usually irritated tone nowhere to be heard. Upon seeing him, scorching anxiety rose in your chest. Deep breaths, Y/N, deep breaths. “I brought this.”

“Iwa, hi,” You chirped, hopping on the tabletop and embracing your friend—holding on a little tighter than usual. Despite your constant mantra of ‘I’m fine,’ you did long for some form of comfort. “Yes, right, thank you. Just set in on my bag. I want to show you what I made.” You dragged the boy by his hand to the table occupying your tasty treats. You figured he could share the desserts with the rest of the team once they won tonight. The hopeful look on your face slightly dropped. Iwa didn’t look as excited as you hoped for. Instead, he looked deep in thought, like something was bothering him.

“What’s going on?” He questioned quietly, finally meeting your puzzled eyes. “Come on, Y/N, you cook when you’re upset. Anyone who’s known you for more than a year knows that.”

Mouth ajar and eyes wide, you searched for an excuse to preach to Iwaizumi—although you know your attempts will be futile. Since you were in elementary school, you’ve grown up the boy and had no doubt he would read you like an open book. And if not you, then most definitely Oikawa. “Nothings going on; I just wanted you to have an array of options. Is that so bad? You could be a little more thankful, you know.”

“Of course, I’m thankful for all of this. But I’m going to find it a little concerning when Shittykawa is as quiet as a mouse, and you’ve got bags under your eyes from what? The hours you spent baking through the night?.” Iwa uttered, raising his voice a bit.

Unfortunately, that only further pushed you to the defensive stature. You wished he’d just leave it, shove it under a rug as you did this weekend. “Not everything I do involves Oikawa! If he’s acting weird, then you can ask him about that instead of undermining what I did for you!” You frantically grabbed your bag off the ground, planning to leave the room. “If you didn’t like it, you could have said thanks and thrown it away—”

“Hey, Hey,” A tight grip encloses around your bicep, halting your departure. “I’m sorry, I really like everything you did for me, you know cheesecake is my favorite. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry.” Iwaizumi’s grip doesn’t falter, even as your teary eyes meet his own.

The lump grew in your throat as you fought back the waterworks. “We broke up, or I broke up with him, I guess. Can you even break up with someone who didn’t want you in the first place?” You said, through a broken sob. Iwa doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you with the same pitiful look you’ve seen a thousand times. His free hand moved to the side of your face, patting your hair a few times before he pushed your head into his chest. Words wouldn’t provide you with the support you needed, so Iwa simply let you cry in his embrace—secretly plotting all the ways he wanted to beat Oikawa’s ass.

He didn’t need to ask. He knew all the reasons why this happened. Hell, Hajime had seen the foreseeable future unravel when Oikawa presented your relationship.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a downer on game day.” You lifted your head, lightly brushing your palms along his uniform, waiting for your tears to dry. The door to the clubroom snapped open, hitting the opposing wall, prompting you and Iwa to rush apart. The look on the face read shocked, more towards the fact you didn’t need the club questioning why you were crying this early in the morning. But the brunette boy in front of you idly took a long, deep breath encouraging you to do the same.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?”

“Just Iwa and his not-girlfriend, what’s new?” Mattsun and Makki seemed to be having a good morning, and not even Iawizumi could shake them out of the teasing moods. Despite their playful banter, you couldn’t help but focus on the silent set of eyes following your movements, and something about his silence was off-putting.

You turned to the two, a sly smile planted on your lips. “I’m not even indulging,” Fake it til’ you make it. “But I did make a small arsenal of desserts, so help yourself-”

“If I decide to share with these idiots.”

“Help yourself-if Iwa chooses to so graciously gift you the pleasure.” You said sweetly, playfully bowing as Mattsun and Makki rolled their eyes. “I have to go to class, so enjoy, and good luck.”

“Here I got it.” Iwa offered, plucking your bag from the floor with a small smile. The kind gesture made your heart flutter, your mood beginning to lift simultaneously. Ever since you were little, Iwaizumi always seemed to know what you needed to feel better, almost like an institution. Maybe that’s why his tone was short and sharp when he told Oikawa to move away from the door as you tried to leave, you’re used to his cold demeanor, but it was unsettling. You didn’t want him to be this angry with his best friend because of you, although it was a little awarding.

Oikawa’s lips laid ajar, fumbling his thoughts to form a reasonable enough sentence. He wanted to say something astounding to you, something that gave you no choice but to come back to him. He planned it all day yesterday, but now as you hide behind Iwa, he drew a blank.

“I’m serious, Oikawa. Move.”

Oikawa hung his head in shame, shuffling to the side, allowing you and Iwa to exit the room. The overwhelming feeling of patheticness climbing his veins. He didn’t mind his best friend’s anger towards him, but this wasn’t rage. Iwaizumi was disappointed, and Tooru couldn’t shake his glare.

Practice was usually a time the boys could assert their worries into energy, but the thick tension left everyone unsettled. Today’s warmup was eerily different.

Tooru watched you bounce in and out of the gym with the rest of the cheer squad; Iwa’s jersey adorned your figure. His expression held that of a kicked puppy, and it was pissing off the rest of the team. They needed their captain in his best frame of mind if they wanted to win.

Hajime’s humorless laugh broke the silence. “I warned you, you know.” Oikawa shifted his attention. “I told you you’d only hurt her, and you continued reassuring me you wouldn't, time after fucking time. And...there was a time I believed you, but you’re a liar, and Y/N sees it too.”

Oikawa’s sadness morphed into anger, eyes twitching as he bit the inside of his cheek. “If I’m a liar, that makes you one too.” He sneered, eyes still downcast on the court. His emotions were on overdrive, plucking and pinching in his mind. Oikawa knew he should resort to this method of release, but he was losing all control.

The ace sucked in a sharp breath, eye blazing. “Yea, well, I can live with that. Can you?”

Coach cut the conversation short, asking why the boys weren’t warming up before the game. The captain and ace have begotten many altercations through the years, but they always found a way to convert their anger into power. Coach Irihata only hopes that proves true with tonight’s game.

You, on the other hand, had a million tasks to complete before you could settle down in the gym, so you ultimately missed the scuffle in the gym. Just that didn’t make you ignorant to the rising tension, and you couldn’t help but feel it was your fault.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH14

Things are changing ;) The next 10 chapters look a lot different than the original, and most of them are brand new.

Previous      First      Next     AO3

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Chapter 14: Death by a Thousand Cuts

The crowd waiting for Ladybug and Chat Noir outside the Louvre grew thicker as another van pulled up, and a crew of reporters hopped out. Alya drummed her fingers on her phone, shifting when the new additions forced their way into the throng. She just wanted answers. Being selected to be Rena Rouge meant she had some sort of bond with Ladybug, right? So why did Ladybug replace her without warning? Was it out of necessity? Or did the fox Miraculous have a permanent new owner?

Camera bulbs flashed as the heroes exited the museum, and several microphones competed for their attention, swallowing Alya in a sea of limbs. Lila promised a private interview, and if her stories were to be believed, she’d better come through. This was the moment that would define their friendship, and more importantly, Alya would finally learn if Marinette and Adrien were telling the truth.

“Ladybug!”

“What’s the story on this akuma?”

“Can you confirm that you and Chat Noir are dating?”

“Do you have any leads on tracking down Hawkmoth?”

“A student got punished for wandering off on a field trip. No, we’re not dating—stop asking! And as of right now, we have no leads, but Chat Noir and I are doing everything in our power to keep you all safe,” she said smoothly. She never once looked at Alya in the crowd.

“Ladybug,” Alya spoke up.

Ladybug shifted to face her, though her face bore no sense of recognition or familiarity. Her expression was blank, cold, business-like, distant—a steely mask hiding her emotions.

Alya bit her lip and continued. “Um, I was hoping to get an answer to a question many of my followers have. Do you have time for an interview?”

Ladybug’s earrings beeped frantically—a reminder that the heroes were on literal timers.

“I’ve only got a couple minutes,” she replied. “Make it quick.”

Strike one.

“My viewers want to know what happened to Rena Rouge. Will Malin be a permanent replacement, or was he a temporary stand-in?” she asked.

Several reporters rolled their eyes. As far as they were concerned, these questions were yesterday’s news. No one else seemed to care that Rena Rouge was replaced. They clung to whoever wore the suit in the moment, but it was the most important question in the world to Alya.

Something flashed in Ladybug’s eyes, an uneasy expression Alya saw in the mirror a lot as of late. Those big blue eyes were filled with pain, hurt, and regret, but Alya couldn’t figure out why. What had she done to receive such tortured expressions from someone who once trusted her?

“Malin will wield the Fox Miraculous in all battles moving forward.” She grabbed her yoyo. “No more questions. Bug out.”

Reporters glared daggers at Alya for wasting their opportunity to get the latest scoop. Alya could see it in their eyes. As far as they were concerned, Rena Rouge was old news. Her heart dropped to her feet, shattering like glass on concrete.

Strike two.

“I’ll be happy to take a few more questions.” Chat Noir stepped to the center of the crowd. His eyes skipped over Alya too, lengthening the chasm growing between them.

Strike three.

All the microphones pointed at him, pushing Alya aside just as Ladybug had done to Rena Rouge. Her heart hammered in her chest, a painful lump blocking her throat as tears welled in her eyes. Did Ladybug not trust her anymore? What did it all mean? Lila was supposed to talk to her and set up a private interview, but Ladybug treated her so coldly. Why?

Because she’s a liar.

The thought flashed in her mind, Marinette’s familiar voice ringing in her ears. Alya had to wonder if knowing the truth was any better than living in ignorance. One thing was certain: if Lila really was a liar, then Alya had a lot of apologizing to do.

♪♫♪ Sanctuary ♪♫♪

“Hey, you made it!” Macy took Marinette’s hands and planted kisses on her cheeks. “Is Adrien coming?”

“He said he was.” Marinette retrieved her phone from her purse to check her messages.

“You two should sit together.” Macy insisted, and when Marinette’s eyebrows raised, she added, “I’m a huge fan of his, but you two seem really close, and I’d never want to start anything over a boy. It’s not worth ruining our friendship.”

“Macy…” Marinette pulled her in for a hug. “You’re the best.”

“No, you are, and if Adrien can’t see that then he has poor taste,” Macy said. “If you ever need a wingwoman, I’ve got your back, and I’m sure Eliott can teach you all kinds of ways to flirt.”

“I might take him up on that. I’m hopeless.” Marinette admitted. “Sometimes when I talk to him my words come out wrong.”

“Why don’t I set up the perfect scene for you two tonight?” Macy offered. “Afterall, the play is packed with romance. He won’t know what hit him.”

“Who won’t know what?” Adrien asked as he and Martin approached.

“Oh, nothing,” Macy said with a coy lilt. “Just girl stuff, you wouldn’t be interested.”

“I get it. Keep your secrets.” Adrien smirked.

“Come on, Eliott reserved us box seats!” Macy took Marinette’s wrist and led the way.

As promised, Macy sat Marinette next to Adrien and toted Martin off with her to “get a drink.” Adrien seemed oblivious to her plans but unbothered by the extra alone time with Marinette.

“So, your dad let you come, huh?” Marinette said conversationally.

“He’s more amicable toward other rich people, and he thinks theatre is a more…enriching activity.” He rolled his eyes. “I guess he figures I’ll behave.”

“Either way, I’m glad. It means we can spend more time together.” Marinette offered him a shy smile.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a downer. I’m really glad he’s letting me out. Ever since you changed schools, I don’t get to see you as often, so I always look forward to spending time together,” he said.

Marinette’s heart skipped three beats. “Yeah, it’s great! N-Not that he doesn’t trust you, but that we can hang out, I mean. It stinks that he doesn’t trust all of your friends and keeps you at home, and I’m sure it must be hard for you, and… I’m gonna stop talking.”

She turned to face forward, slapping her palm to her forehead. Maybe she should have hit up Eliott for flirting advice before she let Macy push them together.  

“No, no! It’s fine. It is hard, but I’ve got really great friends like you who understand, so that makes it better,” he said.

“You know I’m always here for you if you want to talk about it. Any time.” She reached out, hesitantly at first, to place her hand over his. “You’re…really important to me, Adrien.”

Adrien searched her soft expression before a smile curled on his lips. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.” He gave her hand a squeeze as Macy and Martin returned.

Macy nudged Marinette with a giggle, and she bit back a smile. Maybe she wasn’t as hopeless as she thought. Adrien kept hold of her hand until the lights dimmed, and the theatre hall broke into applause. It was a small gesture, but Marinette would take it.

Eliott played an amazing Chat Noir, and even Margot didn’t do too bad as Ladybug, despite being a total brat behind the scenes. The play was fun, and a reminder of how much Paris trusted Ladybug and Chat Noir to defend them. Though, she did find fault with their kiss at the end seeing as she and Chat were so not like that, but Paris wanted what it wanted even if it couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You. Were. Awesome!” Macy tackled Eliott the moment they met up afterward.

“Thanks,” Eliott chuckled. “I think that was my best performance.”

“You play Chat Noir so well, Eliott. Are you sure you’re not really him?” Marinette teased.

“I’d believe it,” Adrien said. “I’m impressed by the quality of your playwright’s puns.”

“They’re almost as cheesy as the real Chat Noir’s,” Marinette added with a grunt.

“Not feline the cat puns, Marinette?” Adrien folded his arms over his chest and cocked a brow.

“Purrhaps she just doesn’t find them funny,” Eliott said with a wink.

“Then she has a very purr sense of humor.” Adrien smirked.

Marinette rolled her eyes, shooting him a playful grin of her own. “I just think his comedic timing needs work. They’re saving Paris; shouldn’t he take his job a little more seriously?”

“Meowch. No appreciation for good comedy with this one,” Adrien said.

“I may have to reconsider purrmitting you to attend the after party on my yacht,” Eliott said. “You have to make one cat pun to be admitted.”

“Do I have to?” Marinette groaned.

“We can chat about it on the way.” Macy giggled as Adrien and Eliott praised her contribution.

“Yeah, we’ve gato go.” Martin pointed to the door, only adding fuel to the fire.

Marinette sighed. “Betrayed by all of my friends at once. That’s cold.” When they all gave her expectant looks, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Please leave meowt of this.”

She rolled her eyes as they all applauded, curtsying and blowing sarcastic kisses. If anyone knew more cat puns than they ever wanted to, it was her. Chat Noir certainly kept them coming.

“Alright, I guess you can come.” Eliott draped an arm over her shoulder as they walked.

“You guys are insufferable,” Marinette said.

“You love us though.” Adrien wrapped an arm around her waist on the other side, and her cheeks warmed.

Across the lobby, Lisette was chatting with other stagehands, and Eliott stiffened. He might be good at flirting, but when it came to Lisette, he always clammed up. It didn’t help that she was shier than Marinette either.

“Go invite her.” Marinette urged, elbowing his side.

“What? Who? I wasn’t- you’re…”

“Hey, Lisette!” Marinette called, breaking out of his grip and beelining for her.

“Marinette!” Eliott chased after her.

Lisette tilted her head to one side. “Hey, you’re…”

“Marinette.” She held out a hand. “Eliott’s friend.”

“Yeah, you were at our dress rehearsal last night.” Lisette nodded, cheeks flushing when Eliott latched onto Marinette. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s up.” Eliott clamped a hand over Marinette’s mouth, and she gave him a prompting look. “Um, just I’m having a party on my yacht if you wanna come. Just a few friends and family, super casual. Margot won’t be there.”

Lisette clutched the hem of her shirt and bit her lip. “Sounds fun.” She rocked back on her heels. “Let me go home and change, then I’ll come over.”

“Okay, great!” Eliott said a little too loudly. “I’ll- We’ll see you there.”

“Great.”

“Cool.” He turned abruptly, dragging Marinette away by the wrist. “Okay, I deserved that revenge.”

“She likes you!” Marinette said.

Eliott couldn’t hide his smile. “Shut up.”

“She’s coming to your party.”

“Yeah, I got that. Thanks.” He let a breath pass his lips. “I’m just nervous. I’ve never liked someone before, and I’m scared that everything could go wrong.”

“Talk to her tonight. Let her get to know you, and I’m sure she’ll like you no matter what,” Marinette urged. “Have confidence.”

Eliott searched her expression, pursing his lips. “Okay.”

The rest of the group was waiting in the limo, and Marinette crawled in beside Adrien. Macy was prattling on about the play, particularly the big kiss at the end, teasing Eliott for having to kiss Margot.

“Do you think her snobbishness can infect you like getting bit by a zombie?” She poked his cheek.

“Shut up, we’ve rehearsed that kiss a 100 times over the past few weeks, and I’m fine.” He swatted her hand away.

“You really are a good actor if you can pretend to be in love with Margot for an hour and a half,” Macy said. She fanned her cheeks. “Even still, that kiss was so romantic! I would love to have seen the real thing on heroes day.”

“Oh, come on. That kiss so didn’t happen in real life. The playwright just added it in for dramatic effect,” Marinette said.

“How do you know?” Adrien quirked a brow.

“I- just Ladybug is always saying in interviews that they’re not a couple, so of course they didn’t kiss.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Oh, that’s just a cover story. They are totally in love. Chat Noir is head-over-heels for Ladybug, and she just hides her feelings so Hawkmoth can’t use it against them,” Macy said, not bothering to mask the ‘duh’ in her voice.

Marinette rolled her eyes. If only they knew.

When they arrived at Eliott’s yacht, her friends continued their chatter, and a small smile curled on Marinette’s lips. She really was lucky to have them, even if they all believed Ladybug was in love with Chat Noir—she’d convince them eventually. After everything that happened with Lila, Marinette was spiraling, feeling unappreciated, abandoned, and angry. Martin and Eliott said she helped them, but truthfully, their friendship saved her first. They showed her that real friends did exist, and that they don’t abandon one another.

Finally, her gaze rested on Adrien, the one thing she still had left from her old school. He’d grown quiet after their conversation. He flashed smiles and laughed when appropriate, but something hid behind those green eyes, an intensity Marinette had never seen from him before. After a while, he disappeared from the party, and Marinette wondered if he’d gone home until she found him on the upper deck looking out over the Seine.

“I’ve always thought the Seine was prettier at night,” he remarked as she approached. “The reflection of the lights on the water calms me down.”

“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet ever since the limo ride,” Marinette said. She leaned against the railing next to him. His eyes were fixed ahead, barring her from the emotions brewing inside. Another gray wall with a locked door between them.

Finally, he flicked his gaze over to her, searching her face as if she were a puzzle that needed solving. He looked at her like that a lot nowadays. Several times when they spent time together, she’d catch him staring. A month ago, she would have done anything to get Adrien to look at her, but now as they stood only centimeters apart, eyes locked, she didn’t know what to say. Her heart fluttered.

The last time they hung out, Adrien almost kissed her—a fact that haunted her every day since. What did it mean? Was Adrien in love with her? Was he going to kiss her now? Oh god, she shouldn’t have eaten the Camembert from that cheese platter.

His eyes bore into her so intensely, she thought she was going to pass out, but instead of kissing her, he bit his lip and asked, “How are you holding up with everything?”

Blinking in surprise, she breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m doing better now,” she said. “Some days are still rough, but I’m grateful for my friends. They’ve really helped me overcome everything.”

“I know you’ve been through a lot lately. I’m just glad you and I are still friends,” Adrien said softly. “You’re someone I don’t ever want to lose.”

Her cheeks warmed as he tucked a loose strand of hair into place. Taking a leap, she took a step toward him, curling her arms around his waist. He held her close, resting his head against hers.

“I’m really glad I still have you,” she whispered.

“You’ll always have me. I’ll always be watching out for you,” he said in her ear. “Always. I promise.”

♪♫♪ Careful ♪♫♪

“Hey, bestie.” Lila smiled as Alya approached their usual table at their favorite café. Her face fell when Alya flashed her a pensive frown. “Why the long face?”

“I talked to Ladybug yesterday,” she said. “She totally blew me off. I thought you said you were going to get me a private interview.”

“Oh no, I am so sorry, Alya!” Lila’s face fell into her hands. “I should have warned you, but I just don’t know what happened. I tried texting the private number Ladybug gave me, but she totally ghosted me. I don’t know what’s going on with her lately. She hasn’t been replying to me at all.”

How convenient.

Alya crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m having trouble believing you.”

“I’m not lying to you, Alya! Ladybug has been pulling away from me lately, and I don’t know why.” Lila’s lips curled into the perfect pout. “I find it really hurtful that you don’t trust me. I thought we were friends, but you’re starting to sound like Marinette.”

“We are, I just… I don’t know what to think anymore. I-” Alya averted her gaze with a sigh. “I need some time to clear my head, okay?”

“Of course. I know you have trust issues after what Marinette did to you, so I completely understand,” Lila said. “But please, don’t call me a liar like she used to. If you leave me, then everyone else will too.”

Alya chewed her cheek, searching Lila’s expression. Her eyes seemed so genuine that Alya almost apologized on the spot, but she knew that not everything in life was as it seemed. Be a journalist. Investigate.

“I gotta go,” she said. “My sisters want to see a movie this afternoon, and my parents are at work.”

“I’ll go with you,” Lila offered, but Alya held up a hand to stop her.

“That’s alright. I can handle it,” she said. “Thanks, though.”

Lila sank back into her chair with a pout. As Alya turned to leave, Lila’s face shriveled into a glare that sent a chill down her spine, but she kept walking. Maybe she imagined it. Her mind played all kinds of tricks on her lately. She only hoped the truth would reveal itself soon and free her from all of this doubt.  

♪♫♪ happiness ♪♫♪

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ladybug sat on the edge of a roof, staring out over the city. She heard Chat Noir touch down behind her, but she didn’t turn around as he approached. Her head was drained, empty, lifeless as she stared ahead.

He didn’t question as he sat beside her. They knew each other well enough by now that she didn’t need to explain when she was upset. He just knew. The silence stretched on, but Chat Noir waited patiently while she gathered her thoughts.

“I knew it would happen,” she said finally. “I knew she would wonder.”

“Alya?”

Ladybug nodded. “I never told you, but she was Rena Rouge.”

Chat Noir’s mask raised, and Ladybug lowered her gaze to her lap.

“She must hate me now,” she murmured, lip quivering.

“You did replace her without an explanation,” he said pointedly.

“I had my reasons.” She swung her legs over the edge. “I need people that I trust by my side.”

“I wasn’t questioning your decision,” he said. “You know I trust you 100% no matter what.”

“I guess it’s not that I don’t trust her.” Ladybug sighed, chewing her lip. “I mean, I don’t doubt that she would still work with us, but she’s hanging out with Lila, and after everything…I can’t work with her.”

“I understand.” When Ladybug gave him a disbelieving look, he brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckle. “Really. I do, Bug.”

“I know it sounds selfish, but I can’t put my feelings aside,” she said. “I know we have a duty to protect the city, but if I can do that with someone else, then why go through the trouble?”

“No one’s asking you to.” When her face fell, Chat Noir reached out to cup her cheek. “Bug, you did the right thing. No one is doubting you. We need people we can work with and count on, and if Rena Rouge isn’t it, then it’s time for Malin to step in.”

She leaned against his shoulder, watching cars crawl up and down the street with sad eyes—a city full of people counting on her. They seemed so small from up here.

“It’s hard sometimes,” she said. “Having the whole city looking at you to fix all of their problems… The weight of the world gets so heavy.”

“Don’t worry about stepping on toes. We have to do what we can to save everyone, and we can’t do that if we’re working with people we can’t trust,” Chat Noir said. “It’s not selfish. It’s our job.”

Ladybug smiled, Chat Noir’s familiar warmth flooding her chest. Chat Noir could be sweet when he wanted. He could give Adrien a run for his money if he acted like this all the time. Nah, that was a stretch, but she’d always love Chat in her own way.

Ladybug stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, kitty.”

“You’re welcome.” He smirked, then added, “I just hope you’re not thinking of replacing me.”

“Of course not,” she giggled. “I know I can always count on you.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.” He leaned his head against hers, and they sat for several minutes, watching the city lights twinkle on the skyline.

She spent a lot of time leaning on blond boys lately, but in her defense, she had two of the best. Chat Noir trusted her even when she didn’t trust herself. Sure, he was goofy, full-of-himself, and his puns were terrible, but… Somedays she needed someone like that. Someone to make her laugh and roll her eyes. He was her best friend, and she hoped that even after they defeated Hawkmoth that they would always stay this close.

“Until next time, m’lady.” He bowed theatrically when they stood to leave. “I’m always here for you if you need me.”

“I know.” She pulled him in for a tight hug. “Thank you for being someone I can lean on. It means the world to me.”

“Of course, m’lady.”

Ladybug swooped down to the street, ducking behind an ad stand and letting her transformation drop. Clara’s presentation was in a week, and she was going to pull an all-nighter. Coffee was a must. She was getting close to finalizing a few of her designs, and now that she’d gotten everything off her chest about Alya, her mind was a lot clearer.

Rounding the corner, she crossed the street to a quaint little café before a waterfall of silky, red hair wiping a table in a dingy green apron caught her eye. Was that…

“Gabrielle?”

[tainted-wine]

Evil Demonic Music

Priest!Reader X Demon!Present Mic

Hizashi has a large and filling feast on every Halloween night. He’s been doing it since before you were born. Yet here you are crashing his party while smelling like fresh meat in a den of wolves. It’s entirely your fault for throwing off his groove.

Disclaimer: Reader is more reminiscent of an action priest in a gothic action movie or anime. There’s little to no accuracy here. Lightning will most likely strike me the next time I venture outside.

Words: 7.9k

Warnings: Noncon/Dubcon, Christian Themes, Possession/Mind Control, Orgy, Public Sex, Sorta Corruption, Downer Ending

🎃👻🎃HAPPY LATE HALLOWEEN, EVERYONE!🎃👻🎃

------------x------------

Yuuei Club Presents “Dance With The Devil” Halloween Event LIVE Music by Present Mic Costumes Encouraged // Doors Open at 8 p.m.

It looked innocent enough; a graphical poster on the door of a building surrounded by smaller businesses in the outlet. It masked itself well in the daytime with its plain exterior, devoid of any attractive decorations save for the club’s name that glowed in hypnotizing neon when night falls. All of its temptations were contained inside, dormant until it was filled with careless souls seeking unholy pleasures.

You didn’t hate them for it. The temptation to sin is strong. It’s how evil thrives, and the average person lacks the strength to resist. It’s your duty to protect all people, even the faithless, from evil’s many devices. 

Like this nightclub.

Party locations like these were an uncommon feeding ground, although now that you think about it, the muddled and vulnerable minds residing within should make for easy meals. The loud and nonsensical “music” and absolute lack of restraint that the people displayed was baffling, but your task is to guard souls, not convert and guide them back to Heaven’s path. One demon in particular, however, favored ‘party animals’ more than any other creature from the vile depths.

“Easy there! You glare at this place any harder and it might combust!”

To the average human, the monster that appears beside you is nothing more than a tall blonde man with an inviting smile, but he can’t hide himself from the blessed and perceptive. Beneath the guise of spice and incense, he reeks of smoke and brimstone.

Hizashi, as he called himself, will never fool you.

“Stay back,” spit nearly flies from how harshly you say the words. You know that he can’t harm you, not while you wear your cross around your neck and calmly hold thoughts of your Lord in your mind. Still, you warn the dangerous fiend to keep his distance.

He obeys and innocently raises his hands. “Hey hey, you know I’m not out to hurt you, and you’re not gonna pull anything with that crafty little weapon there, right?”

No, you weren’t going to take a stab at him with the blade hidden in your holy necklace. You tried it before, an attempt to drive it into his back when he wasn’t looking. His hand caught your wrist at a speed you couldn’t comprehend – you were certain that you didn’t blink, yet you didn’t even see him move at all. His friendly smile didn’t waver, not a hint of anger visible on his face.

“Careful, baby priest! Don’t mean to sound cocky, but I’m way out of your league.” The warning wasn’t in his words, but in the heat of Hell itself that briefly washed over you, a sensation so powerful and real that you feared you were being dragged down that very instant. But the unseen flames died off the second he released your hand, eyes flashing a bloody red before returning to their usual emerald hues.

That was the first and only time you tried to banish him.

“I don’t trust you, but I’m not stupid,” was your answer, making sure not to let your hatred and disgust cloud your mind. He might take hold of that.

It was a satisfactory response, going by his bright beam of a smile. So friendly and inviting.

Months had passed when you finally accepted that he was a demon who genuinely enjoyed living alongside humans. He never spoke ill of your fellow men and commended them for their many ways of enjoying their short lives. Most demons you’ve dealt with favor negative emotions. Fear, sorrow, anger… those cold and bitter feelings attracted hellbeasts like flies to honey. 

But this one? He fed on mortals that were as cheerful and carefree as him. All of this still wasn’t enough to convince you that he is truly gentle, however.

Hizashi stayed where he was, staring at his own promotional poster. The urge to leave was almost overwhelming, but you couldn’t let him know how much he unnerved you with just his presence alone. Instead, you shuffle awkwardly and try not to utter prayers of protection. Whether or not that will anger him is something you don’t want to find out.

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Are you pumped for the best night of the year? Man, Halloween never gets old for me, especially in this day and age. Everyone dancing while dressed like a bunch of monsters...it’s almost like I’m at home! Humans sure know how to party like tomorrow is The Cleansing.”

“Yes, and it’s shameful,” you humor him. “I have no interest in debauchery.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s called having a good time, babe. Put the tome down and loosen up every once in a while.”

Put down the tome?

Loosen up?

Babe?

How dare he make you even entertain the thought of abandoning your teachings. You just know he’s trying to rile you up, to make you lose control. You won’t let him have his way. “I have my good times in moderation, on days when I praise God with my brothers and sisters with a glass of wine. There is discipline in everything, even celebration. Heathens simply get drunk and lose themselves in the madness.”

The demon chuckled as he ran his fingers through long golden locks. Just the beautiful sheen of his hair could probably attract the greedy. “Yep. Times sure do change, don’t they?”

“They don’t just change, they’re desecrated. What was once a day to ward off evil spirits now does the exact opposite. They’re too busy with their consumerism, candy, haunted houses…”

“Oh yeah, those haunted attractions are wild. So many of my buddies gorge themselves there. Free fear for the taking, ya dig?”

Despicable.

“And you don’t?” You test him. He was a conversationalist; a few probing questions won’t bother him, surely.

He withdraws his phone, scrolling through the screen for something. “Come on, you know me by now, don’t you? That sour stuff isn’t for me.”

“Forgive me for still struggling to trust you.” Sarcasm felt too risky, actually. You won’t use it again.

“Heh, no offense taken! You priests know just how cruel we can be sometimes. Mortals learned from the best, after all.”

Your lips twitch. His curve into a more wicked grin.

Every single passerby can’t seem to resist giving you odd looks. You can feel the eyes behind you as people make their way around the shops. Your garb wasn’t that strange; they’re acting like they’ve never seen a person in a robe and wearing several divine artifacts before. They would too if they knew what Hizashi was, who has yet to garner a single look of suspicion.

Ridiculous, his casual getup is actually fooling them. Perhaps the silly villainous mustache wasn’t big enough to give him away.

“Ah, here it is!” You nearly jumped from his voice and how quickly he leaned in, a video playing on his phone. “Just tap on the screen to play it an-”

“I know how to use a phone,” You hiss, taking the device from his hand and shooting him a glance every few seconds in case he tried something. 

The video was chaos, an unsteady view of flashing lights and thumping heavy beats. Whoever held it was smack dab in the middle of an energetic crowd that sang and danced like barbaric animals. It was an orgy of overindulgence. Too much drinking with their comically shaped cups and bottles, too much lust in their crude excuse of a dance, and synthetic drums that dragged on for so damn long, even the beat sounded drunk. It’s not the first time you heard the horrid noise; it unfortunately appears to be popular among the masses. 

God help these poor souls.

“Last year’s party.” Hizashi’s words cut through your thoughts. “Pretty hype, huh? Nothing gets my listeners goin’ like a hard trap beat!”

Oh? So he’s fully admitting it now? “So you’re calling it what it is, are you? Trapping them with your satanic melodies?”

The confusion on his face was very convincing, but you knew better. “What? No, that’s what the music is called.” 

You couldn’t help but snort. “Please, demon. What do you think sounds more believable: A genre of music with such a simplistic and misleading name, or evil tunes that your kind uses to ensnare unassuming mortals that don’t know any better?”

“....um…”

“I thought so.” To think that he’d slip up so easily. He wasn’t as clever as he thought. “Tell me what happened to the people in this video. Are they alive? Or did you drain them until they were nothing more than lifeless husks?”

There was a snicker behind you. Both you and Hizashi turned around to see a young man holding his phone up with an amused smile, giving a little wave after being noticed. “Sorry,” he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I really like your costume, miss. Your acting is awesome, too.” With that, he put away his phone and whatever images he now has of you and continued on his merry way.

Impertinent juveniles.

“Anyway, they’re all fine,” Hizashi said, eyes returning to the door while tapping his feet to a beat you can’t hear. “I know how to feed without causing any serious harm. Even if I do go a little overboard, they’ll just brush it off as having too much to drink.”

“It doesn’t matter how good you are at controlling yourself. You’re an evil entity invading human minds.” It takes every bit of strength to not flinch when he looks at you. Again, there’s no anger – there’s never anger with him – and it makes you all the more uneasy. Maybe a being as ancient and influential as him doesn’t find a novice exorcisor like you worth getting angry or even annoyed over. “Your stench will remain on those people forever, attracting more of your kind to them unless someone like me finds and cleanses them.”

He shrugs and rubs at the back of his neck. “Come on, your boy is doing his best here. What do you want me to do? Starve?” He considers what he just said for a moment before laughing. “Nevermind, don’t answer that. Look, I ain’t leaving the stage, little priest. I’m addicted. The noise, the energy, the way everyone just loses themselves in all of it.”

The way his tongue peeks out to swipe over his upper lip has every hair on your skin sticking up.

“Man, I wish they knew just how sweet their own essence is when they’re caught up in the lights and music. Sweeter than any candy the kids will be bringing home tonight.”

He compares consuming pieces of a soul to children’s treats. “You’re really not helping your case,” you remark.

Another shrug. “C’mon, you say that like I actually have a chance at winning with you! I won’t hurt anyone in there. You have my word.”

You scoffed. “A demon’s word is-”

“Worthless, I know. See what I mean?” He withdrew a ring of keys out of his pocket. “Welp, I think we’ve stood here and stared at the door long enough. I gotta prep for the big night. Thanks for the company!” A few more seconds pass when he finds the right key and opens the entrance to the club. 

You didn’t follow him inside. That would be careless.

Now it’s only you observing the building that will soon hold a giant living feast for the hungry monster. After another passing compliment about your “cool and authentic costume”, you figured you’ve stood around long enough. It was time to head home.

And find a way to keep everyone safe.

He was right; you have no way of getting rid of him yourself. That doesn’t mean you’ll stand by while knowing what danger these people will be walking into when night arrives. You’re not afraid to put your life on the line if it means protecting His children from the many evils on earth. When the first step of your plan takes root in your head, you change routes and make your way to the nearest costume shop.

Hizashi won’t be having his fill tonight.

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

8:30 p.m.

You weren’t expecting to encounter two demons tonight.

Well, perhaps that term isn’t appropriate. There is no sort of aura attached to the dark-haired man that you can trace back to the pits of Hell, but he is undoubtedly a creature of evil. One that was birthed from the shadows, living for eternity by lurking in darkness and drinking the blood of any unfortunate mortal that catches his eye.

“I knew it. I knew someone so close to Hizashi couldn’t be human.”

The vampire at the lively club’s entrance didn’t seem fazed by your accusation. He wasn’t even hiding himself. The sly bloodsucker knows that his crimson irises and enlarged fangs will be mistaken for prosthetics. Very convincing prosthetics.

“Nice to see you too,” he deadpans. 

You’re getting a little tired of these beasts brushing you off. “So what’s your feeding plan here? Waiting to find an innocent maiden who wishes to see the sinful wonders inside, then take her to the back and drain her dry?”

“Like you?” The smirk doesn’t reveal any teeth, but his predatory eyes are enough to make you step back and grip the cross that still hangs around your neck. Your reaction makes him chuckle darkly before he returns to his regular disinterested self. “I already ate.” That monster. “I’m here because Hizashi thought I’d make for good security.”

“So you intend to drink from anyone that steps out of line?”

“No.”

“Lies. Look here, vampire…”

“My name is Shouta.”

“...You and your friend won’t be preying on these naive humans for much longer. He told me about his trap music, but I won’t let his songs bewitch anyone tonight.”

He stared at you, one eyebrow quirked high up. “Alright...can you give me your hand already? There’s a line growing behind you.”

You look over your shoulder, and there is indeed a line of disgruntled people dressed as various monsters and characters. You have to admit that their costumes look to be of higher quality than the angel outfit you hastily bought in the store’s clearance section. The fuzzy headband for your halo was itchy and your flimsy wings were on the verge of falling off with every sudden movement.

With a glare that messaged him not to try anything, you cautiously extended your arm. He took your hand in his – deathly cold – and wrapped a thin paper tag around your wrist. “Have fun.” 

You always hate it when you can’t read their smiles.

The suffocating darkness around him was lifted when you made your way to the same doors you were looking at with so much contempt this morning. Glancing back, you saw others happily complimenting his ‘spooky’ appearance, to which he responded with either a quick thanks or a grunt. None of them seemed to notice his chilling aura or ice-cold touch.

Why must they be so blind to the evils that walk beside them everyday?

When you stepped in, the music nearly blasted you back outside. So loud, but not like the angelic choirs during gospel. You didn’t feel lifted, you just felt bombarded by pure noise. A repetitive tempo made the entire building pulse like a heartbeat. This didn’t sound like the music Hizashi supposedly used to put the crowd under a spell. It just repeated the same forsaken beat over and over again. Perhaps the repetition is meant to ease the victim’s mind and lure them in a false sense of security, then those long rolling beats will come in next, ensnaring them when their guard is down. Clever, but not clever enough.

You passed the lounge and bar area, paying no mind to the lecherous behavior around you. Boisterous laughs, alcohol being carelessly chugged…

“Hey there, angel.” A man dressed as a superhero nearly tripped over his own cape in his attempt to approach you. “You as innocent as you look? I can introduce you to the boUUUURP.” The sudden belch burned your poor eyes with the stinging smell of rum.

Lord have mercy on both you and these savages.

“No thank you,” you said through gritted teeth and brushed past him. The lights and colors are disorienting. Strobe lights, spotlights whizzing across the walls and floor, and vibrant ever-changing shapes on every surface. The intoxicated folk probably welcomed the flashing chaos. When you drink at the church, your sips stay modest and controlled, ensuring to never reach the stage of drunkenness. If you were feeling ‘buzzed’, as they would say, this musical and optical discourse would likely feel pleasant, like entering a world devoid of rules and consequences.

Also known as a world of sin.

A huge mass of bouncing bodies covered the dancefloor, and there on an elevated platform, acting as an advanced musical throne, was the evil orchestrator of the chaos.

And those long curved obsidian horns were most definitely real.

Even as he tampered with the many buttons and dials before him, Hizashi moved as wildly as his prey, too caught up in his own infernal electronic hymns to even notice your presence. Surely your chaste energy sticks out among these wrongdoers like a dove in a pit of serpents.

You need to activate your blessing before he eats. Good thing the vampire didn’t bother to inspect your costume for any natural evil repellents that you happened to be carrying.

Your self-made pockets were filled with sage and rosemary, common herbs used to drive away demons and spirits. You sprinkle them onto the floor as you continue to make your way to the center, where your power will work most efficiently.  Hopefully their scent will not be overpowered by the sweaty bodies and breaths laced with alcohol of all kinds.

Pushing through the dancing crowd was an arduous task. The music had since switched to something faster and more aggressive. The hectic sounds in this one was making you miss the boring but calmer tunes from before. You never considered what the sound of a robot vomiting would sound like, but it would probably sound similar to the cacophony of ‘whirs’ and ‘wubs’ that were assaulting your ears.

The mass was pushing and tossing you every which way. The variety of masks and makeup beneath the constant moving lights was rather frightening. Of course, you’ve dealt with plenty of real monsters, but it disturbed you to see your fellow man acting in such a frenzied matter in such a perplexing setting. You can see why Hizashi adored this environment. You couldn’t tell the difference between man and beast.

Straightening your halo, you decide that this spot will fare well enough.

Now it was time to apply holy water around your feet. Just a few drops of the blessed fluid will be enough to protect everyone here.

You close your eyes, ignore the many bodies bumping against you, and pray.

O Lord, protect me from temptation.

The water trickles out before you.

O Lord, forgive those who have been led astray.

“WOOOO SHIT! THIS IS MY JAM!”

The nearby exclamation makes your eyebrow twitch.

For we know that your power is greater than any evil.

The song is deafening, but you keep going.

Grant, O Lord, the protection fro-

Someone violently collides into you, knocking the bottle right out of your hands and rolling away to disappear behind the wall of stomping shoes.

Shit! Forgive my language, Father!

You elbow the fools blocking your way, ignoring the occasional “hey” or “watch it” during your desperate search for the most important tool against evil influences.

You didn’t even finish your prayer. You need to at least do that first, before it’s too late. Clapping your hands together, you shut your eyes again and moved your lips rapidly.

OLordprotectmefromtemptationOLordforgivetosewhohavebeenledastrayforweknowthatyourpowerisgreaterthanany-

“HERE COMES THE DROP!”

The rhythm and bass changed drastically, and with it came a powerful wave of raw exhilaration.

It’s like a force was injecting every positive chemical directly into your bloodstream. The abundance of newfound energy needed to be released, just like the tension that was released from that beat drop.

Your hips are swaying in a way you’ve never moved them before, and you can’t make them stop.

Stop! Stop, please! This is his doing!

“How are my listeners doin’ tonight?!”

The demon’s voice booms through the speakers, seeping into your ears and filling you with so much excitement that you can’t help but cheer with everyone else. Your senses feel simultaneously enhanced and dulled. The humans around you were out of focus, but the diabolical DJ up ahead was so clear, it’s like you were right in front of him. The hunger in his currently red eyes struck fear in you even as you danced.

“Woo, I’m lovin’ this energy! Thanks for coming by this Halloween, ya little monsters! Now...bring this house down!”

Your heart accelerates from the rush and you begin to jump in sync with the possessed crowd. Even the people standing by or sitting at the bars couldn’t resist, joining the growing horde on the dancefloor to jump in unison. 

It was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Not a care in the world. No customs, no praise. It didn’t give you that warm feeling of ascension. Instead you just felt...liberated.

No!

Struggling in the demon’s grip, you cleared your thoughts just enough to try to calm yourself and regain control.

Utter a prayer. Hurry. Focus. You need His protection.

‘Baby priest? Is that you?’

That is not the mighty entity you wanted to hear. The voice echoes in your head, impossible to escape. When your eyes open, you see that above the vast sea of faces, Hizashi is staring right at you. 

‘I thought the dancefloor smelled a little weird! I was so busy feelin’ the beat that I almost missed you!’  You watched him laugh as he continued to violate your mind. Damn him. Wasn’t possessing you cruel enough? ‘Please, no prayers when I’m about to dig in. That’s gonna leave a bad taste in my mouth. Just keep groovin’ like everyone else!”

Your limbs obeyed without your consent and followed the rhythm. This didn’t even sound like the music you heard in the video. Were you just foolish in thinking that he only used one specific sound to trap his victims?

With another change in the bassline, a heavier weight invaded, reaching right into the depths of your heart and tugging at your very soul. You know that fear will only make you more defenseless, but there was no fighting the terror that overtook you.

Not when a demon was feeding from you.

Your brain clashed with itself. You had to keep fighting, even as he stole a fragment of what your gracious Heavenly Father had gifted you and every human, but the cheerful voices implanted in your mind begged you to stop worrying and just give in already.

There was no stopping your movements or the unending rush that surged as strongly as the music. Only now, as he completely ignored your holy safety measures and tainted your soul as easily as the oblivious heathens surrounding you, did you fully understand just how great the differences in power between him and you were.

‘Whoa...holy shit.’

The breathless moan in your head made you shudder. 

‘I haven’t tasted a human as pure as you in ages.’ 

“Please! You’ve already fed from me!” You scream out loud as the mob revels in the thrilling sensation of having a part of them sucked away. Your voice is drowned out by the music and shouts, yet you know that the horrid fiend can hear you loud and clear. “Just get out of my head!”

The dancing stops.

The music stops.

Everything stops.

It’s relieving to finally let your body rest from the forced celebration. The lights still flash and move in the dead silence. Every single person in all of their costumed glory turns and pins you with a sharp glare. Their eyes were unfocused and glazed over, consciousness elsewhere. Hizashi was in full control of all of them.

The demon himself looked down at you, no longer wearing his usual friendly and carefree smile. He was now showing the more twisted happiness you were used to seeing on his kind.

Crazed and eager to devour.

He spoke into the microphone on his headset, voice low and eerily calm. “Angel, you can’t just give me a sample of a five-star meal and expect me to not want more.”

The dread threatens to make you faint.

“Hey, none of that!” He laughs and switches back to his cheery tone. “I told you the negative emotions aren’t for me. I mean, a lady as sweet as you is gonna taste delicious either way. Why don’t you come on up here?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to flee from this entire situation that you foolishly believed you were ready for. You thought you could sneak into this age-old creature’s gathering and force him to go hungry for the night.

Cockiness treads horribly close to pride, and pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

You clearly didn’t have a say in the matter, what with your feet moving forward on their own. Every individual in front of you stepped aside to create a clear path from you to Hizashi’s platform. Their eyes never left, heads slowly turning as they watched you slowly climb the steps with legs that trembled from your resistance.

As he stood tall clad in leather behind the large mixer table, you noticed along with his sturdy horns, he also sported a black pointed tail that lazily swayed behind him. And his stench...the foul smell that would often make you crinkle your nose was replaced with a pleasing fragrance, like a sweet and fruity beverage. It was undoubtedly the work of his spell; everything about him has suddenly become tempting.

At this point you were wishing for the music to return so that you couldn’t hear your thunderous heartbeat as you stopped right in front of him. His hellish eyes observed you from head to toe, holding his chin between his fingers before shaking his head and smirking.

“Ya really couldn’t find a better costume?” He snickered as he got closer and fiddled with your cheaply-made gown. You avoided looking directly into his eyes, afraid of falling into the blood-red depths and never finding your way back out.  “Or do you priests work on a budget?” He pauses when he notices the contents in your pockets. “Oh?” A hand is shoved inside and pulls out a handful of herbs.

“Aww gross! Sneakin’ herbs into the joint?” He winces from the smell before tossing them aside, leaving them to scatter into the unmoving group below.

How? His reaction should have been much stronger…

“Not that this stuff really works when I’m vibin’ in my element, but I’m hurt! I thought we had some trust!” He pinches your cheek, knowing that you’re unable to pull away. “And I thought you knew that I was way out of your league. You’re gonna need the big guns if you plan on keeping me away from my food.” The breath blowing into your face is abnormally hot.

There’s a layer of something otherworldly hidden in his tone whenever he emphasizes his words, like a filter poorly attempting to cover up a monster’s true guttural voice. 

But once again, he switches back to normal, which does nothing to calm you. “But I’m not gonna get mad at some rookie that doesn’t know better, especially one as tasty as you!” Twirling around, he pushes a few buttons on the table that you didn’t even know where to begin to figure out. 

“Sorry about the interruption, listeners!” He says to the crowd, cruelly acting like they have any ability to respond. They continue to stare blankly. “I hope you don’t mind if I switch things up a bit. Your boy is gonna be a little preoccupied during the next few tracks.”

The deafening silence is lifted with the start of a new song, and the people suddenly spring back to life, completely unaware of the mindless state they were in. Their only goal was to keep partying.

Your body was moving again as well, this time bobbing gently to the double and triple beats and low frequencies that vibrate through the floor and up your spine.

This...this was the type of melody you feared, and yet it didn’t affect you any more than the other songs. All of them were traps.

The only way you can think of fighting back is by filling your head with songs of praise. Keep your Lord in your thoughts. He will protect you.

“Tsk...angel, that stuff doesn’t work when I, ya know, already ate a piece of you.” His face tightened from hearing just a few seconds of the holy song in your head. “I told you, ya gotta loosen up a bit. You’re already dancing better than I thought you would!”

He paid no attention to his other prey, instead admiring your simple but energetic movements.

Then he began to move as well, shoulders doing a slow shimmy and following each of your steps with his own, moving closer and closer until he was able to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you in.

He’s warm. Not burning or emitting an aura of terrifying darkness. The music suddenly feels softer, easing your fears. Like an intimate embrace. 

“There, it’s not so bad, is it?” He says lowly, lips almost touching your face. “Quit thinking about your big daddy for once.”

You want to protest against the disrespectful nickname for your God, but he predicts your reaction and tightens his hold on your spirit.

“You taste so damn incredible right now, don’t mess it up,” he groans and savors you. With every part of you that is consumed, it becomes harder to resist. It would be so easy to just hold onto him and keep swaying like this, rocking back and forth as his hips press against yours, grinding into you.

The unfamiliar sensation startles you, but Hizashi shuts down your panic with a growl. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten.” he murmurs into your shoulder, breathing deeply to take in your scent. “I’ve been so hooked on the party life that I forgot just how heavenly innocents like you taste. To think that I’d have an actual priest dancing with me, tasting that revelry from such a pure source...pardon my blasphemy, but goddamn.”

You’re swimming through the fiery haze clouding your mind, clawing against it in a desperate search for an opening. But with every beat, the haze thickens and you sink further in.

You couldn’t find the light. No salvation.

More sinful feelings assault you from the friction of his groin against yours, a growing bulge rubbing on your most sacred area. It sends a foreign tingle down there.

“Ooooh, don’t think I can’t feel that, baby” he rasps, holding you so closely in a dance fitting for two lovers. “I can sense everything now that you’ve let me in.”

That angers you enough to find your voice again, just barely. “I didn’t let you in...” You tense from another hard grind. “Foul...beast.”

“Are you sure? You’re giving in pretty easily. It’s nothin’ to feel bad about, I promise. Humans aren’t built to resist life’s basic needs, so I don’t know why the big man in the clouds gets so wound up about it all the time.” 

How dare he.

“Damned snake!” You force your hands to beat against him and push him off. “You will not corrupt me with the Devil’s words!”

He’s actually shocked for a moment, even to your own surprise, but he laughs it off. “Geez, my bad! I guess you are pretty persistent. Must be…” He grabs the cross around your neck, ignoring your horrified gasp. “...this.”

With a sharp yank and a pinch at the back of your neck, your one remaining object of holy protection is removed.

And with its loss, his influence completely overpowers you. The clearness of your senses switches on and off.

The music is muffled. It’s too loud.

The roaming lights are blurry. Too bright.

Are you still moving? Or is your body too heavy?

“It stings a bit, but that little thing can’t do much when the wearer’s already under my control.” An unfocused image of the demon tossing your precious necklace over his shoulder, the necklace you’ve held close to you since the day you first stepped into the cathedral and accepted your role as a righteous defender of man.

Your essence is now being stolen so quickly that it makes you shiver. He shouldn’t be taking this much.

“Mmm, I can’t get enough of this,” Teeth that are too sharp brush against your neck, threatening to pierce your skin. “I’m an old guy, ya know. I’ve done a lot of experimenting over the centuries, to see what I’m into.”

There’s a rip, and your gown is being pulled down along with your wings. It only relieves you from the growing heat of your surroundings.

“Y’see, our daddy isn’t a helicopter parent. He brings us into the world and just...lets us decide what to do. So no, my words ain’t the Devil’s words. They’re just mine, honey. I live for myself.”

Tilting your head, he presses his lips against your throat, making your breath hitch. No, your body is sacred. Don’t let him do this to you.

You don’t even know when the music had changed, but you’ve noticed the club was filled with a synthetic ambiance, the colors switching to magenta and cyan. 

The party demon is so captivated by you that he doesn’t even acknowledge the change in tune. “I used to stalk the depressed. Wasn’t worth it, they were too bland.” He peppers kisses down to your collarbone. “I tormented scared paranoid folk. Fun, but it loses its flavor fast.”

Your bra is removed to expose your breasts to him and the entire populace within the building. Your heart races, but the synths don’t stop seeping into your ears, the bliss wrestling with your fear. 

“Shh, don’t freak out. I’ll make sure everyone forgets everything that happened tonight.” He attempts to reassure you while massaging your newly revealed mounds. “So time went on as I treated my palate to different tastes. Wasn’t long before I realized my favorite vibes were the good ones. Festivals, games, a few buddies hangin’ out,” he lowered himself and flicked your nipple with his tongue. “Or a couple fucking, I ate all of it up. And after a while I decided that I just liked people in general.”

The pleasure felt when your breast is engulfed by the heat of his mouth is shameful. Hizashi moaned at your taste, though you weren’t sure if it was the taste of your flesh or your lust that was exciting him.

“I liked it when humans were having good times, so I figured out how to join in on the fun and damn, how do you guys keep finding new ways to rock out? The prudes keep droning on about how my favorite type of people have lost their way, but I think they’re the ones who found paradise, and they’re not even dead yet!” After nursing on both of your breasts, he rises and grabs your face to turn it toward the crowd. “I mean, just look at how these guys – oh.”

‘Oh’ indeed.

The people were no longer dancing. They were grabbing at each other, at men and women they probably didn’t even know, tearing apart clothes in a vicious urge to fornicate right there on the dancefloor. Some of them were already completely nude. You avert your eyes to stare at your feet instead.

Hizashi cleared his throat. “Whoops. Look what ya made me do, angel. My lust got the best of me!” He held you close while watching the horrid act before him. You’re trying to move your heavy arms to cover your bare body. “No wonder I’m feeling so horny. Think I should make them stop?”

It takes effort to nod your head.

His lip sticks out in an exaggerated pout before going, “Nah. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an orgy. I bet this is a first for you.”

Something tickles your hips, your eyes wandering over to see the arrow-like point of his tail curling around your white panties, tugging them down.

Part of you already knows that Hizashi is allowing you to struggle for his own amusement. With all of your protection gone, he can easily stop you from swatting at the flexible limb as it brings your final article of clothing down to your ankles.

Wearing nothing but the small strap around your wrist, you want so badly to curl up and hide yourself. You were completely bare on a stage with a demon quietly taking in your form. The contrasting feelings of anxiety and calm threaten to tear your psyche in half.

“Given how anal you guys are about chastity, I think it’s safe to say no one’s ever touched you before?” The way you tense tells him enough. “Alright alright, relax. I’m gonna make this easy for you.”

‘How? By letting me leave?’ You want to say, but your vocal chords aren’t cooperating.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Well, no. I told ya I know everything goin’ on in that head.” He grabs you by the shoulders and places you right in front of his mixer.

There were many suggestive sounds amongst the pile of writhing bodies before you. It was the most depraved sight that you’ve ever witnessed. These people may have been sinners for their immoral pursuits, but they were still victims of a wicked creature’s influence. You wish you could apologize to all of them for failing to protect them.

Slender fingers massaged your shoulders. “Ain’t it beautiful?” He whispers hotly into your ear. “I’m not that crazy about lust, but I can’t resist when it’s coming from someone like you.”

His aura has you shackled on the spot, unable to move or even tear your eyes away from all of the sex. His voice meshes with the increasingly sensual tunes, both him and the music putting you in a deep trance that leaves every nerve in your body extra sensitive.

You’re gently pushed to lean forward until your hands are supporting yourself on the table. The leather of his clothes pressed against your back is irritating, but easily overshadowed by the hands trailing down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“One of my favorite hobbies was hunting down faithful maidens like you. All demons love doing it, really. You can’t top raw innocence, it’s always a delicacy. It’s the closest most of us will ever get to fucking an actual angel. I managed to fuck an angel, and lemme tell ya, it’s a once in an eternity experience.”

He reaches your mound. There is still fear and an urge to pray, though it’s drowned out by the electronic harmony and all of the hot sex.

“Now she’s a fallen one that hangs out with me. Pretty little devil’s obsessed with sex now. If you’re lucky, maybe she’ll give you a visit in your sleep at midnight.”

His fingers reach your untouched folds, making you gasp. You’ve never felt so much lubrication down there before. Was that normal?

“I was really good at the whole corruption thing, so good that I caught the attention of the big holy boys. They were toughies, gotta hand it to 'em. I decided to lay low after that little showdown. That was all a preeetty long time ago.”

The demon’s voice is background noise as you watch deplorable acts that you didn’t even know existed. One woman was taking a cock into her mouth while another man pounded into her from behind. A new male approached and grabbed her free hand, wrapping her fingers around him and encouraging her to stroke him.

Three men pleasuring themselves with the same woman. They were probably complete strangers.

The repulsive sight makes you wetter.

They sure were having fun.

Hizashi hums at your arousal, sinking a digit into your folds. 

“Ah,” you choke on your own voice. His other hand plays with your breast again while you’re being penetrated for the first time. Some sort of flame was growing within you, burning and pleasing at the same time.

“I thought I’ve found my place. Going place to place and bringing in crowds who just want to forget their troubles for a day and groove.”

The finger pushes through your tightly clenched walls, or at least they try to.

“Fuck, relax a bit, babe,” he groans.

You do exactly that, giving him enough leeway to push in and out at a steady pace. You don’t think about the violation, only the strange friction that has no right to feel as good as it does. 

“And then you come along,” An unexpected sharp thrust causes his finger to brush against a spot that fills your vision with even more blinding lights. “It’s not like I was after you or anything. You’re a solid negative ten on the threat scale, but ya just wouldn’t leave me alone!” He relentlessly hits the spot again, and again, until you’re crying out and your legs are shaking. “Then you waltz in here and try to ruin my favorite night of the year?

He’s able to hide his anger as he speaks, but fails to keep it from entering his possessed victims. The orgy becomes more violent, all of the people looking no more civil than savages in torn rags as they try to dominate and fuck each other senseless.

It affects you as well, going by how annoyed you’re getting by his rambling. Can’t he just focus on pleasing you?

His finger leaves you too soon, your cunt already missing the brand new sensations. “Sorry, babe,” he says when he releases you and begins to undo his pants. “Normally I’d spend more time warming up, but I gotta join in on the raunchiness now before I go nuts. Just...do me a favor.”

You whined, wiggling your hips and rubbing your ass against his freed cock. He only chuckles at your impatience.

“Slow your roll, I’ll get started as soon as you push that button riiiight there.”

You push one of the many glowing buttons, and stock phrases are shouted out of the speakers.

“No, the one next to it.”

You press it, and another song begins.

Hizashi hums in approval. “I usually do a smooth transition between songs, but…”

A hard impact knocks you forward with the overwhelming feeling of being completely filled all at once. The stretch and pressure has your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

“....Yeah, I just wanted to do that. And-” He yanks the halo off your head and drops it at your feet. “-I always loved the symbolism in that.”

He wastes no time building up. You’re being pounded as hard and consistently as the energetic beat. It should hurt, but the euphoric state of your mind dulls any pain and discomfort. 

With the demon inside both your head and your womanhood, there was no saving yourself. Your prayers wouldn’t even be heard through this thick depraved fog.

“Oh fuck yeah,” He growls loudly with his wild thrusts, hands gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise. “I’ve been missing out. So hooked on the party life that I don’t even remember how it feels to eat up a modest little soul like this.”

Was he still devouring you? You can’t even tell, not while you’re trapped in this melodic dreamworld as his cock rams you.

“Ya mind if we do this again sometime?” He angled himself to ensure he was hitting that sweet spot with each rhythmic pump. Despite his aggression, his hips moved with musical purpose. “Not like you’re much of a priest anymore. You’re fuckin’ a demon, sweetheart. I think the pearly gates have closed for you.”

That sounds sad and all, but God does he feel good. The entire moment was feeling like a hallucination. Your world was saturated with fuzzy images and muffled bass as your virgin pussy was ravaged. The tightened heat in your core was growing hotter by the second.

Hizashi just wouldn’t stop talking even as he became short of breath. “Ah, don’t worry, my doors are always open to misfits!” His rhythm falters a bit when you give him an especially tight squeeze. “Ya like that? I can always wipe your memory of tonight along with everyone else’s, and you can head back home. I just don’t think your next visit to the house of God is gonna end well.”

How does he expect you to care with the way he’s plowing into you?

His arms wrap around you in an embrace. “No pressure, angel. You can decide later. For now, just enjoy the show.”

And finally, he shut up and focused on fucking your divine lights out.

With his pelvis flush against your ass, Hizashi humps with newfound vigor, his thrusts rapid yet precise enough to keep stimulating your most sensitive areas.

The blinding stars in your eyes make it impossible to even make out what’s happening in front of you. A shame, because you want to know if you’re being dicked down as good and hard as the whores on the dancefloor.

The demon may not be talking anymore, but he was still being very vocal about his pleasure with feral moans and growls right into your ear. 

An extra hard slam forces you to nearly topple onto the controls, hands scrambling to keep you upright and hitting several buttons in the process. 

A series of sounds and distortion effects are added to the song.

It unexpectedly riles him up. “Shit, that wasn’t a bad mix, angel. I might have a junior DJ in the making,” he praises.

The tempo changes - different speed and new layers - and Hizashi follows suit by switching his quick bucks into deep thrusts.

The fire inside was close to doing...something. You weren’t sure what it was or what exactly will happen if this lasts any longer, but part of you knows that it’s about to feel very good.

With the head of his dick striking you nice and deep, you quickly learn that you were right.

The explosion of spasms was too pleasurable to even comprehend, each contraction tearing filthy screams from your throat. Hizashi bursts soon afterwards and fills you up with a cry even more lewd than yours.

Just like that, your mind is freed and the weight of his aura is lifted...and you feel gravely tired.

A coldness sweeps over you and saps every ounce of your strength. You find yourself dropping to your knees and falling over as a distant voice expresses genuine worry.

“Oh.......I overfed.” Though it doesn’t sound as panicked as it should.

You don’t want to close your eyes. You fear that something terrible might happen if you do, but your eyelids are quickly becoming too heavy to fight.

“Really sorry, little priest! I didn’t mean to! Look at the bright side - my friends are gonna love ya down there! Home isn’t half as bad as those books make it out to be!”

Each word sounds fainter than the last, but you still catch each one.

Home?

Your eyes shut. 

And the remains of your soul become stained with ash and black before heading downwards into the demonic realm.

Welcome home.

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Not sure I follow in comparing Zim to a dog here, or equating "patience" with a "proper" version of behavior adjustment therapy? I dunno if you realize this, but the whole situation just looks like a really shitty surface-level portrayal of ABA, and the fact that it's played like a joke with little to no nuance or care taken into the seriousness behind it is just kind of yikes to autistic people out there. Like a serious yikes, and the trigger warning just gives the implication that you think there is a "proper" way to do ABA and you condone it and that's even more yikes, frankly.

??????

I’m autistic?

And so is my sister. 

I don’t know what ABA is. And I had to ask someone else what it even was before attempting to respond to his. 

And maybe I’m misinformed on this? I have a feeling I am. Because I don’t follow a lot of the autistic community as a whole due to personal reasons which will become clear as you read my response. 

I was using the textbook example of behavioral conditioning in my example and dogs are used in that. As it is in most scientific studies as well. Like I’m sure you’ve seen something like this in every textbook explaining how conditioning works:

I was talking about Irkens and Conditioning. 

Dogs, Rats, Cats and Monkies are always used in these examples. 

I’m sure anyone who’s taken a college course on Psychology has heard of the Bell experiment at least once. 

I wasn’t trying to equate people who are on the autism spectrum are “lesser” than those who aren’t. I’d be a pretty horrible hypocrite if that was the case. 

I was just using the Dog example because it was the easiest one I could think of when it comes to conditioning responses. 

it’s not a jab at autistic individuals because EVERYONE is subject to this type of conditioning for example the lunch bell at school, the end of period bell We’re conditioned to take that as signs when we can eat and when to move on to our next class.

Some parents reward children for good behavior/grades in school the saw way one would reward a dog with a treat for performing a trick we taught them.

This is why I was using the Dog example. 

The implication I was just saying is that if you’re an asshole, don’t use mental disorders as an excuse to be an asshole your whole life. (Which is what I was saying about Zim.) 

And as far as PROPER Behavioral Adjustment therapy goes... It does exist... I’m taking it to help me with my depression. I have to retrain my brain because literally, everything in life is a “downer” for me.

It’s literally called Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. Which isn’t the same as Applied Behavior Analysis.

Cognitive Behavioral Therapy was what I was thinking of when I answered that ask, but I could have been more clear.  

My brain needs to stop equating the mundane day to day living with “work” and “suffering” because that’s how my brain developed around my depression. 

I have to train my brain to not view “mundane” as “work” so that I can actually DO things, and not have a break down every time I need to do chores or the dishes or something as simple as taking a shower. My personal hygiene is so bad because I feel that taking care of myself is a chore and that if something is “not fun” my brain just won’t do it and I can literally fall into a brain rot and bad thinking patterns and it will affect my depression in a major way for not keeping up with minor things. 

I have met too many people on the autism spectrum who have bullied me in school and use their disorder as an excuse for not taking responsibility due to a lack of control that they experience over their life.

This has happened to me since Middle school and it happens to me online too.

That was all that I was trying to say and maybe my words came across in a bad way. 

Also, I compare Zim to animals all the time because he is an alien and I like to draw upon animal influences for his behavior in my work. I compare Zim to a dog, a cat, a bug, a lizard, a cat again, a guinea pig, and a variety of every other animal under the sun. Just because he’s non-human and I want to convey that better and give Irkens a more distinct identity rather than just “haha... green man go brr” like it is in the show. 

Not due to me thinking Zim is autistic. 

That has nothing to do with the former.

I’m sorry if I did not explain my words more clearly. Hopefully, that cleared things up. 

[harryhandstan]

where we belong

Yeah so..it’s been a year. A long and very frustrating year since one of the worst days of my life. This is just a continuation of You Bring Me Home and Harry helping me through the grief process of my aunt’s death. That was one of the first pieces of writing I ever shared and it was so incredibly personal to me. Thankful again to @bfharry​ for letting me include that in her fic event happening at the time. It was so good for me just to release that grief both then and now!

I also just owe a huge thank you to anyone else who has listened when I’ve talked about this or offered any sort of comfort. Your kindness in such a dark phase of my life means the world to me!!

This idea was born of the very strange urge I had to watch the movie I was watching with my sister that night we found out. I still haven’t been brave enough to watch it, but maybe someday.

Thank you to Miss Jill and Oliva (@havethetimeofyourstyles​, @bfharry​) for reading over this for me :) I appreciate you so much you’re the best!

//

“Linds? You home?”

He knows he’s later getting home than he said he’d be. But things on set don’t always go as planned so it had taken him longer than he imagined. He had tried to call to let you know, but when you didn’t answer his texts and your phone went through to voicemail for the third time, he assumed you were either out or gone to bed.

He drops his keys into the small bowl on the wooden table in the entryway, hears the clink of your set of keys against his and breathes a sigh of relief; you were here, safe. Not that you couldn’t venture out without him when he was busy, but he always feared the worst until you were back under the roof of your shared space.

He makes his way down the hallway into the kitchen, depositing the few grocery bags on the counter. When there’s still no sign of you, he works quickly to put away the few things you’d asked him to pick up on his way home, eager to be near you again. He notices a small round cake when he opens the refrigerator, and suddenly runs through the list of significant dates the two of you had accumulated over the past couple of years you’d spent together. Had he forgotten one? An anniversary of something that was important to you? Were you upset with him for forgetting, waiting somewhere for him to remember and apologize?

His hands work faster now, and when he goes to put away the grocery bags, he takes time to observe the casserole dish on the stove. He lifts the foil, sees the food untouched, and recovers it before moving through the rest of the house to find you. The open layout of the kitchen and living room allows him to quickly eliminate the couch as your hiding spot. He peeks down to see the door to the bedroom ajar, the light off but a slight flicker from the TV flashes across the walls and the tension in his chest continues to unravel the closer he gets. The box fan you insisted you couldn’t sleep without was silent, so either you hadn’t heard him call earlier, or again, you’d fallen asleep while waiting for him.

He pushes aside the guilt for being late, tries to rid himself of the thought the second it appears. He doesn’t know how many times you’d reminded him of your love and pride for him and his work. It was a mantra he repeated in his head when he was away and missing you. Your voice repeating I love you, I’m proud of you, come home to me soon no matter the length of time or distance you would be apart.

He stops before entering the bedroom, removing his shoes and making his movements as quiet as possible so he doesn’t disturb you. He glances quickly into the room, hears the faint murmurs of voices from the TV. It wasn’t an unusual sight, you hated falling asleep without him and so you often found a movie or show to try to lull yourself to sleep when the fan and other things just wouldn’t do the trick. Though the noise of a movie could never be a replacement for him, it was often enough for you to rest until he returned.

What comes next absolutely terrifies him, chills him to the bone worse than the bitter cold of the December air outside. A sob, echoing through the silence he had already adjusted to. He’s by your side in a second, almost leaping to meet you. He throws the blanket back that’s covering you, no real logic behind the action other than you must be physically hurt somehow. From the cry, he expects to see blood, an open wound, some clear injury. When all he finds is you, in his faded t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, he questions again if you were sleeping, if it’s a bad dream that caused what he had heard.

But your eyes are too wide to have been resting, your face wet with fresh tears, new ones still streaming rapidly out of the corners of your eyes and down your cheeks. His heart is racing, fear laced in his voice when he kneels next to you, “S’a matter? Are you hurt?”

All you can do is wrap yourself around him, arms clinging to his neck. He tries to loosen your grip, pull you back so he can study your face, but you only clutch tighter. The panic is evident when he speaks again, “Lovie, you’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

You do your best to calm yourself, finally able to form words through shaky breaths, “It’s been a year, Harry.”

He frantically searches his thoughts again. A year? He tries to remember what tragic anniversary would have you this upset. That’s when he tunes in to the movie behind him, strains his ears to hear and tries to determine when he heard it last and how it could relate. It’s faintly familiar, but the tone is too light to be the only reason you’re this unsettled. 

Suddenly it hits him. How could he have abandoned a date from his head this important to you? He silently curses himself for even thinking of leaving you alone for a second today. Hates himself for ignoring the signs of your grief from the past week; the restless nights, your unusually quiet moods around him, the way you had melted into any sort of touch he offered. It was your way of seeking comfort without verbally requesting it. 

You’ve relaxed your arms enough now that he can create some space between you, just enough that he can visualize the sorrow set upon your normally joyful spirit. His voice is mixed with his own agony when he tells you, “I’m sorry. Love you so much, baby. Should’ve never left you today.”

You shush him, a gentle sign you’re not upset with him for overlooking the importance of this day. He can’t help but embrace you firmer, wishing he could absorb even a fraction of your painful heartache. He would take it all from you in an instant if he could.

The cake (which he now recalls was her favorite), the movie (he now realizes the two of you were watching the very same night a year before), this date. All reminders of what would always be one of the darkest days of your existence. 

The day your aunt had left the world too soon. The day you found out you would never see her beaming smile or hear her laugh or share a meal or create another cherished memory with her.

//

“Did you talk to your family today?”

“Yeah, FaceTimed my sister for a bit. Called my mom too, and my Nanna and Aunt Donna. It was nice to talk to them about her, share some stories.” He’s laying with you now, you curled against his side. The movie is still playing, set on a low volume, neither one of you paying much attention to it.

His eyes are closed but you know he’s still awake and listening by the way his hand rests on your back, occasionally working over that spot to soothe you as you talk, “But then I was alone and started thinking about that cake that she always loved. You were gone so I just walked to the bakery on the corner, not really expecting them to have it, but they did. Only one left and I started crying when I saw it in the case. Scared the poor cashier, but she was so sweet to me when I told her it reminded me of my aunt.”

“Then I came home and started thinking about that night I found out, how I was here with you and the movie we were watching. I don’t know if she had ever even seen it but..I wanted to connect with her somehow. It just made me more sad though, pulled me right back to that moment a year ago when I found out.”

“You could’ve waited for me. I would’ve watched it with you so you didn’t have to do it alone. Would’ve sent someone to pick up the cake too so you didn’t have to. Or sent a car to pick you up and bring you to set with me, s’always nice to have you there.” 

“I know. I just didn’t want to be a downer on your day. I wanted to be strong enough to get through by myself until you came home.” Tears are falling again, but you’re more in control of them now, they pool underneath where your cheek is smushed against his chest, “I miss her so much, Harry. It’s too much some days and I don’t know if it’ll ever get easier.”

“You could never be a downer to me, angel. Just because today was a little harder doesn’t mean you aren’t strong. It will get easier. You’ll always miss her, but it won’t always hurt so bad. It’ll take time to heal enough to find that balance between grief and happiness for the things that remind you of her. You’ll get to a point where you smile when you see her favorite things,” You press your face into his side, the fabric of his shirt is soft and comforting on your face, which you’re sure is red by now from crying so much throughout the day, “Will you look at me, please, love?”

When you do, he reaches to pull your hair back away from your face so that he can see it more clearly. He swipes a thumb along the top of your cheek, doing what he can to smooth away tears that have collected there, “I know how hard this year has been for you, but I also know without a doubt that she would be so proud of you, just like I am.”

“I wouldn’t have made it through a second of it without you, H. I’m only so strong because I had you to help me.”

“Maybe, but I won’t take credit for all of it, I can’t.” Your lips are dry and rough against his soft ones, but he doesn’t care, traps them gently to his once before gracing your cheek with another one.

“Saw you made dinner earlier. You weren’t hungry?”

“Not really, just needed something to keep me busy for the evening. I got too upset once I got it all done though.” You’re tracing patterns on the inside of the hand he’s offered you, knowing it’s one of your comforts, “Made that pasta you like, with garlic bread from the bakery.”

“Mhm, sounds good. With that homemade sauce you make?”

You snort, followed by a laugh at his adorably confused expression, “I’m flattered you like it so much, but it’s clearly not homemade, babe.”

“Really? This whole time you let me believe it was your own recipe?” 

“I thought you knew! You’ve literally been at the store with me when I’ve bought it. Several times, in fact. Probably even paid for it a few of those times too.”

“I feel so betrayed.” His bottom lip pokes out, a charmingly cute expression of disappointment. 

“I’m sorry. Think you can forgive me?” You're sitting up now, looking down at him. His hand is still settled in yours, and you squeeze his fingers, prompting him to look at you.

“Maybe. Definitely helps you got my favorite bread t’go with it.”

All the talk of food has your appetite returning quickly, and by the low grumble your stomach makes, it’s back in full force. If it were anyone else but Harry you were with, your cheeks would have flushed pink, but instead you just giggle.

“S’nice to hear that again, love. The laugh. Missed it, and the smile too. S’one of my favorite sights, seeing you so happy.”

“I’d be happier if we were eating pasta and garlic bread.”

“Me too.” 

The food is long cold by now, but the two of you work together to reheat everything. The smell envelops you both, chasing away the frosty chill December seemed to always bring. Harry’s already seated as you make your way to the table with your plate, and he shakes his head when you reach to pull the chair out to sit next to him. He takes your plate and sits it beside his own, tugging your wrist to guide you into his lap.

It’s the most normal, natural thing to him, to have you so close. He loops an arm behind your back to hold you securely there, “Saved you a seat with me instead, baby.”

You don’t suppress the blush now, can’t stop it from blooming scarlet across your face. He lifts his fork, gathering a bite you expect him to fill his own mouth with. Instead he brings it to yours, a beaming grin when you bend to accept it.

“What are you doing? Harry, I can feed myself. I’m not a child.” You drape one arm around his shoulders to steady yourself.

“‘Course you can, just missed you today. Wanna make it up to you that we spent the day apart,” He stuffs the second bite into his mouth before pointing his fork at you, “And y’coming with me tomorrow, won’t have m’girl sitting here bored and alone in this cold house. I’ll treat ya to dinner at that little Mexican place you love. Or if you’d rather have somethin’ else..”

You wrap your arms around him for the second time that evening, surprising him, making his fork clatter to his plate when he drops it to wrap his other arm around you, temporarily forgetting the meal to hug you back. You’re content to just let him hold you for a minute, relaxing your body to conform to his. Your chin rests on his shoulder and you finally turn your head to kiss his neck before letting go to cup his face with both of your hands. 

You kiss him..once, twice, and on the third one he’s smiling, an amused smirk crossing his face before he asks, “What s’all this for, lovie?”

“I love you, Harry, more than you’ll ever know.”

“I love you too, peach.”

Maybe there was a wound, not visible, that may never fully heal, but made significantly smaller by this man who you’re certain loved you more than anyone ever had. The man who kissed you a fourth time before feeding you a bite of garlic bread and reluctantly letting you transfer yourself from his lap to the chair next to him. He doesn’t even flinch when you prop your feet in his lap, just grins down at the mismatched socks covering your feet. 

The grin widens when he realizes they’re his socks keeping your toes warm. Loves that after a year of grief and distress, you remember exactly where you belong.