#using *cringe* to mean *if this was done by someone I had no reason to be around I would forcefully avoid them*

[z0zimus]

Just bc you dislike seeing certain kinks at pride doesn't mean it's Objectively Bad for them to be there. It's Pride. """Deviant""" sexual behaviours have everything to do with Pride, and if you can't accept that then you need to do some fucking homework.

If you're a hater, then be a hater. Don't pretend it's "for the children."

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Often when people talk about appearance of characters in media, especially that of women, some use an argument along the lines of "Why would I want to look at someone ugly in the games I play/shows I watch/etc.?"

From what I saw, and if I'm not wrong, you prefer to not engage with that kind of argument, but if you absolutely had to, what answer would you give that could have a chance to make those people see and maybe agree with your point?

I mean, the reason why I wouldn't engage with that argument is that it is always, universally, without exception, an argument made in bad faith, by people who are lying when they utter it. And it takes only the briefest examination of reality to determine this.

The argument they pretend to make is that "there is no reason to desire things that are not pleasurable in entertainment," in response to which I present The Concept Of Horror Media, or the success of Jackass, or South Park, or literally any subversive prank show, or sports as a concept, or the genre of tragedy, or the phenomenon of people rubbernecking. I present true crime podcasts and biographies of John Wayne Gacy and Mortal Kombat fatalities, I present unflinchingly earnest documentaries about war and disease, I present cringe comedy, I present the entire online media genre of pimple popper videos.

Human beings desire so much more than beauty, so much more than aesthetic pleasure (and indeed we can take aesthetic pleasure in so much more than beauty). We find entertainment in disgust, horror, fear, revulsion, sorrow, embarrassment, pain and, yes, "ugliness" all the time, and we have done for as long as we have had sentient minds to entertain.

So this argument "why would I want to look at someone ugly in a video game" is simply a lie. It is an argument made in bad faith by people whom I will guarantee you against a bet of real money constantly look at things which are "ugly" for entertainment.

It is a lie, it is a stupid lie, and while I'm sure that many or most of the people who peddle that lie don't realize they are lying when they do it, it remains a lie which isn't worth dignifying with a response.

And anyway, 99% of the time they don't mean "ugly" they mean "woman who I don't find fuckable" or they mean "fat" or they mean "trans" or they mean "queer" or "non-white," they mean someone or some thing which falls into a category which they feel entitled to hate, and they are trying to enforce the normality of that hate.

You cannot logic someone out of a position they didn't logic themselves in to, and there is very rarely anything you can say to these people to make them reconsider. They are reacting emotionally, they are reacting on the impulse towards disgust and hatred, and they will rationalize a lie to excuse it.

[dearsnow]

SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT (WITH YOUR FISTS FOR ONCE)

- you and bradley had always been attached at the hip until life pulled him away. when you’re finally living in the same place again, your unspoken feelings come to the surface during a san diego bonfire. (bradley “rooster” bradshaw x gn!reader, reader is characterized as someone who doesn’t like much attention, jealousyyyyyyyyy, pining & arguments but fluff at the end, ⚠️ mentions of alcohol / weed)

word count: 2,500

a/n - it’s so entertaining to come up with synonyms for kissing 😭 anyways, enjoy this, and listen to american teenager by ethel cain. oh and i was also so tempted to make the girl mickey in a wig, but i held back.

Bradley Bradshaw likes you. He’d go as far as to say he loves you, if he was being honest. He’s never said it, though, not in that way.

When you first met, he was pulled to you like a magnet. It was preschool, and he never left your side. He made macaroni portraits of you and you crafted tiny little friendship bracelets for him. Neither of you could speak well, or write well, but you stuck together anyways.

Your first written words were each other’s names.

Everything snowballed from there, but he couldn’t say he was mad at it.

You were so entirely different, but that’s what made it good, in his opinion. He always needed eyes on him, not for any pretentious ego-boosting reasons, but because it made him thrive. You tended to hide in the shadows. When you gave your eyes to him, and him to you, it was like the most natural thing in the world.

He was the classic class clown type all throughout middle and high school, with a football jersey and everything. When you came to his games, he swore he played a million times better, and you were happy to indulge in his superstition.

You like him, too. You’d go as far as to say you love him, if you’re being honest. You might’ve said it if he hadn’t been so clearly your platonic life partner. You would follow him, as toddlers, with his shirt edge balled in your small fist. You tried to draw him more times than you could count, but it always looked wrong, like you couldn’t really capture the life that he held so deeply in his eyes. You even considered joining the cheerleading squad for him, but you would’ve cringed under the gaze of the crowd.

When he left for the navy, and for college, and for anything after that, you wished you could bounce across the United States with him. Instead, you wrote him letters; copious amounts of them.

One thing that you both never dared to cross was the bounds of friendship. He would hold your hand, his thumb smoothing over the side of your fist, and there was nothing romantic about it. God, you wished it was, though.

Now that you’ve moved to San Diego, following him one last time, you beg whatever makes the rules to break them just once.

You walk up behind a broad-shouldered man you barely recognize and tap him on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I seem to be lost. Could you direct me to a man named Bradley? I believe his call sign is something silly, like ‘duck’.”

He whips around, sunglasses and mustache entirely new to you. He speaks your name in a breathy whisper, like he’s afraid his words will break if he says them too loud. “You’re here? Like actually?”

You’ve barely replied before you’re wrapped in a hug, feet lifted off the ground and body spun around so many times you think you might be sick. “Geez, Brad, put me down!”

He sets you down gently, holding out an arm for stability as you collect your bearings. “Sorry, sorry. I just can’t believe I’m seeing your face after all this time.” You’re even more breathtaking than he remembers.

San Diego has done him well, you reckon. His gold-tinted skin holds a deeper sense of warmth, now, even though he has always run hot. “You better get used to it. I have a fancy new apartment now, so I’m here to stay.”

His face holds a beaming grin, and the whole world falls away. “Thank god, I was beginning to think I’d be stuck here with just my coworkers.” He doesn’t even notice how you look at him with lovesick eyes.

After two months of San Diego, you say the one thing you thought you would never say: “I’m so sick of the sun.”

It’s midday, and you’re prepping for a Fourth of July bonfire party on the beach. The sun is beating down on your back, forcing you to scamper into the ocean every once in a while. Bradley is right beside you, wheeling yet another cooler onto the sand. “If I wasn’t worried about our shit being stolen, I’d suggest we abandon it and let Jake do all the work.”

You laugh. Jake was the one who suggested the whole bonfire, but, of course, he was “too busy” to help set up. You don’t mind doing the work. If it was an opportunity for you to be beside Bradley, you’d do anything. You’d even brave the burning ball of gas in the sky.

As you work, the sun disappears quickly.

By this point, after over two decades of friendship, you’ve lost a bit of that hope that pushed you to follow Brad in the first place. You know he’s attractive, and every woman in the world seems to know it too. What you didn’t know is that you’re pretty damn attractive too. As you’ve told yourself, you prefer to keep the attention off of you.

So, as the sun’s last dying rays scatter over the cooling sand, you pretend not to notice the women ogling your best friend.

The bonfire is great. Amazing, even. The flames reach high into the sky and the smell of smoke permeates the air; everything is cast in this sort of hazy glow, highlighting tanned skin and bright swimsuits. There’s also a woman chatting up Bradley, touching his arm flirtatiously, but you push that to the back of your mind. Instead, you’re focused on the guy in front of you, even when her giggle sends a ball of spikes into your heart.

He’s tall, a little on the skinny side, with tousled black hair and a puka shell necklace. Sand clings to his sandaled feet. He hands you a beer, which you tell yourself you won’t drink much of. You’ve already had a bit too much.

“So, know anyone here?” He asks. He’s eyeing you with a certain ferocity that you don’t notice, his gaze raking up and down your body.

You pop the can open and take a small sip. “Yeah. I know Bradshaw, and the rest by association.” You gesture to Jake and Natasha, who are arguing over a beach volleyball. You almost smile at the way she jabs him in the ribs, making him double over just enough for her to steal what’s so carefully held in his hands. The guy nods.

“I don’t. I’m here for the vibes, y’know?” He takes a step closer, and you notice he smells like smoke and something deeper, like perfumed weed. “And the pretty people.”

You shift in your place. “Have you found what you’re looking for?” You’re almost teasing now, completely missing the hunger in the way he licks his lips. Maybe you’re a little drunk, or maybe you’re just enjoying how someone seems to be giving you the longing looks you so sorely crave. It’s one night, you figure. You won’t ever see him again. What’s wrong with a little good-natured flirting?

“Absolutely.” He murmurs, reaching forward. His hand connects with the back of your neck, his breath cascading over your face, and your eyes flutter shut— before you’re yanked backwards by an arm around your waist.

You stumble. “What the hell?” You curse, colliding with a hard, warm chest. You drop your beer in the sand as you fall back. It’s Bradley, and he looks furious. “Brad, are you kidding me?”

“Come here.” His voice is lethally quiet and sharp as a knife. Your mind is reeling as you follow him a few paces closer to the fire, but a hot pool of anger sits in your stomach.

“Are you being serious right now? What in the world were you thinking?” You hiss. You look up at his tight-lipped face, utterly stoic in the light behind him.

“I’m not letting you kiss that piece of shit.”

“Who are you to decide who I kiss?” You’re so, so mad. So mad you could punch someone, but that would probably hurt you more than the person your fist connects with. Bradley just intervened in the one thing you thought he would never intervene in. You’ve let him swap spit with girls you’ve never seen before, and now he’s over here acting like you kissing one guy is the epitome of nastiness?

He scoffs. “You didn’t even notice, did you? That he was eyeing you like a piece of meat? God, he reeks of weed and swamp ass, too. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I could have the once in a lifetime opportunity to make out with a perfectly attractive guy without someone interrupting.” Your arms are crossed, but you feel a lump forming in your throat. In your mind, that really was a once in a lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you go out of your way to meet people, and the people you’ve met have never even slyly complimented you. You’re not the type that gets dates or drinks sent your way or anything more than platonic. Currently, platonic is staring you in the face with the rage of a thousand suns behind his eyes.

“Make out with Bob or Nat, I don’t care. At least they won’t undress you with their fuckboy blue eyes. Even Bagman is a better choice.”

“You don’t get to decide those things— friends don’t get to decide those things. I mean, I didn’t throw a hissy fit when you were openly flirting with that girl.” In the back of your mind, you know he’s right. You know that your stomach dropped when the guy leaned closer to you, and that your kicked-down self esteem made him out to be a whole lot more attractive than he probably (definitely) was.

Bradley runs a hand through his already slightly messy hair, sighing like he’s regretting ever hitting you with a sand pail in preschool. “I at least get to decide when to save you from creeps and when to leave your love life alone. Trust me, you were in more danger than I ever was.”

“I reiterate, friends don’t get to decide those things.” He can see the insecurity swimming in your beautiful eyes. Yeah, you’re definitely at least somewhat drunk. You’d never argue with him like this if you weren’t. You’re also more than a little mad, and disgusted with yourself, and disappointed with your lack of charisma, and so jealous of the girl he probably tangled tongues with.

“What do I have to be, then, to get it through your thick skull? You know I love you. I’m just looking out for you.” His voice is softer, now, and sweeter, dripping from his mustache like honey.

He reaches out, and you cringe away. Love. It’s a word unspoken, one that’s been lingering on your mind since the day in seventh grade when he suddenly became attractive to you. Like most things, you assume it’s friendly. “Do you really love me if this is what you’re pulling? Say it like you mean it, Bradshaw.”

“I love you.” He states, taking your hands in his. This time, as you try to pull yourself from his grip, he holds on. “I love you.” He says again. It holds a certain weight that gets your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. He’s firm but gentle, and he can feel the years of unspoken feelings bubbling on the tip of his tongue.

That’s when the guy from before decides to approach, sliding a hand uncomfortably down your waist. “I think you interrupted us, dude.”

Bradley drops your hands, and before the man can grab you even lower, he’s getting decked in the face.

He collapses to the ground, clutching his bleeding nose and cursing like a bitch. “Fuck you, what the fuck! Fuckin’ Navy piece of fucking shit.” You raise your hand to your mouth as he scrambles to get away. His blood leaves a scarlet trail of droplets in the sand.

“Bradley…”

“I just want you to be safe.” He mutters, like he didn’t just punch someone in the face for you. “I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way, romantically, but I can’t stand seeing you with guys that aren’t as smart or good-looking as one fraction of your pinky toe.”

You reach up to his jaw, carefully, gingerly, before pressing your lips to his.

Like a scene from a movie, Fourth of July fireworks explode behind you, not unlike the fireworks going off in your mind. He has one hand on your waist and one hand on the back of your head, and neither make you even the slightest bit uncomfortable. It’s Bradley, and he makes you feel like the safest person in the world.

Your lips are soft, so soft. Bradley can practically hear his heart pounding in his ears as his body finally takes in the moment he’s been dreaming about his entire life. When you pull away, he misses the feeling, like the lost puzzle piece of his heart was stolen as soon as it was put back.

“You think my pinky toe is smart and good-looking?” You place a hand on his bare chest, teasing. He gives you the grin you’ve come to adore.

“Every part of you is. That’s why I love you.”

“I love you too. For more than your pinky toe, of course.”

“Oh,” he says, suddenly conscious of the self-satisfied look you shoot her, “y’know that girl I was talking to?” You raise your eyebrows questioningly as he nods his head at her. She sends a little wave, in which you notice a sparkling ring on her finger. “That, my love, is Reuben’s wife.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet as the embarrassment sets in, your cheeks growing warmer than the fire. You mouth a quiet “sorry” at her and she laughs, shooing your apology away with a gentle sweep of her hand.

“Is that why you went after Mr. Broken nose?” Bradley whispers in your ear. “That’s one hell of a way to make me jealous.”

You crinkle your nose as your face flushes impossibly warmer. “Not everything has an ulterior motive, Bradshaw.”

He looks perfect in this lighting, and to him, so do you. You can hardly believe that decades of friendship and tension and wishing led to this slightly improbable moment. You’re honestly glad you almost kissed a stranger.

“Yeah, but you’d best believe I do.”

He takes your hand in his and drops to one knee. Everyone turns to look at him, but for once, the only eyes that matter are yours. “Will you do me the honor of letting me be your lawfully appointed boyfriend?” You smile so wide you think your cheeks might split. You join him in the sand, holding his face in your hands and kissing his cheek.

“You really did mean it, huh, Brad?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Yes. It’s a definite, no-questions-asked, yes.”

[mrinafria]

[contains spoilers]

I'm an eternal digger of good narrative techniques. A decent story becomes great in my eyes if the narrative is done right. And it's one of the hardest things to do really, since there's no one-size-fits-all rule for what technique works well with a particular story and what doesn't. One of the primary reasons I keep obsessing over Lovely Runner is its' narrative technique. In all honesty, if it had a linear, singular narrative, I would not be hyperventilating over it on a constant basis (I still would just a certain amount, because both Byeon Woo Seok and Kim Hye Yoon deserve awards for what they are doing). One reason it has managed to knock it out off the park and take the top spot in my forever-favorite list is how wonderfully well the narrative is done.

The primary perspective used in this show is Im Sol's. It's through her we're introduced to the story. Her perspective gives shape to the plot, the characters, because we learn things through her. Her perspective is absolutely critical for exposition. Without her thoughts and way of viewing things, you would never realize why saving Seon Jae means so much to her, or why she would bend the rules and bulldoze ahead when it comes to his safety (exhibit A, her leaving home on the day of the accident, despite knowing about her fate). She'd rather have him alive than have him in her life. Without her narrative, you'd think it's really all about a fan saving her idol (thanks to everyone who'd rejected the script listening to that pitch by the way, I'm grateful we have BWS and KHY as the leads because of that, I would not change it for anyone else). With Im Sol's perspective, you realize, she is not just a fan: she's an ardent admirer, a cheerleader, a well-wisher, a protector, an invisible friend trying to support her friend any way she can, someone who respects Seon Jae, sees him as an idol but also as a human, someone who wants to give back to him the same kindness, empathy and love she had once received from him over a radio call. To her, Seon Jae is first a guardian angel and then an idol, the angel who changed her view of life, made her appreciate things even amidst all that could be wrong with the world and her life. He saved her. Not just on that day at the hospital but every time she struggled and faltered since then, he was there, as invisible as it may have been. So this time, she wants to save him, no matter the price.

Then comes Seon Jae. Oof. If Im Sol's perspective gives the story its beautiful, beautiful shape, Seon Jae's perspective breathes literal life in to the body of the story. The show wouldn't be what it is today if not for his perspective. Without his view into things, Im Sol appears as a fangirl going to extreme measures to save her idol, clinging onto him like a monkey (yes I mean the poster) embarrassing the heck out of herself, making you cringe (in a good, enjoyable way) throughout. Then you reach the end of episode 2 and it knocks the breath out of you because WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. It all clicks.

All this while we kept thinking Seon Jae was caught off guard and just kind enough to tolerate her antics, and maybe he'd slowly fall for her now, only to realize we were completely oblivious to a whole different side of the story. If Im Sol's narrative draws you in and keeps you hooked, making you root for her to succeed, it's Seon Jae's narrative that makes you irredeemably fall in love with them and sincerely, genuinely, desperately hope they get their happy ending together after all the storm.

And the motifs. Walking/running, for instance. I'll focus on just one scene here. I recall seeing a bts where KHY is discussing the OG 2008 accident scene, and it explains how she has to slow down, while running away, for just a moment, only to be hit by the taxi driver. Have you ever been in a situation of absolute panic, desperation and stress, then suddenly found a familiar face or a name or a thing you could connect to, and felt a wave of relief rush through you? She sees Seon Jae, a person who is calling out her name. Even if she didn't know him back then, the fact that he knew her (and that he had his uniform on), gives her a sense of safety she badly needed that moment. That momentary relief, so visible in her features, then overtakes the crippling fear she felt running in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight in the dead of the night. Her body, already exhausted beyond anything, responds to the relief she feels for those few seconds, slowing down her steps.

And that is when she is caught off-guard and hit. That also might have added to Im Sol's anger at the hospital when she is screaming at Seon Jae, her internal anguish that if only she had not paused seeing Seon Jae, and kept on running, then maybe she wouldn't be hit, wouldn't fall, wouldn't lose her ability to walk. It's one thing to have tropes and symbolic things, but it's a very different thing to know how to use them effectively so they elicit very specific types of emotions/reactions out of people. Lovely Runner excels in that. All kdramas more or less have 'things' that take on different meanings for the couples/viewers. It's the way motifs are used to narrate the story in this one that has me going back over and over again to all the episodes aired so far. These are not just their 'things', these are 'things' that drive the plot forward, tell you about their characters, their personal motivations, what they mean to each other and so much more.

This is getting longer that I intended it to be so will end with this. I feel valued when watching Lovely Runner. And I've seen people saying the same thing. It feels like they respect your critical thinking skills, and your ability to infer, so they don't spoon-feed you everything from the get-go, and you can't predict much despite it being primarily a rom-com. You'd be pulling your hair out (again, in a good way) trying to figure out what they will show next, and you will be somewhat or very far from the truth, which will compel you to think further about the story, the characters, long after an episode has aired...I can't remember the last time it happened with a drama. I love this storytelling.

[absolute-flaming-trash]

Been a hot minute, my friends, and I'm sorry for that.

This is something that has been sitting in my drafts for a bit and with how long it's been taking me to get other work out, I figured why not even if I'm not fully pleased with it.

I hope you enjoy regardless 💛

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 910

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Forced relationship, Murder (mentioned)

Please be nice, I don't write for this man often

“May I ask you something?”

It was a simple question, but one you regretted the moment it left your lips because of how it silenced the room.

Gone was the soft scratching of pen against paper as Chrollo looked toward your seated position, his expression thankfully that of neutrality mixed with a hint of slight intrigue.

You swallowed and looked down at your lap. Better than annoyance, you supposed.

“I just… I can’t stop thinking about it, and I have to ask...” Your fingers picked at the frayed ends of the couch while your graze returned to his. “Why me?”

He arched a brow, amusement creeping into his eyes. “Why you?”

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

“Yes.” You replied with a little more conviction in your own tone this time. “Surely keeping one person alive when the rest were doomed to die is more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Are you saying that you would’ve preferred to have shared the same fate as the rest of your fellow party go-ers?”

Your cringe followed by a beat of silence was more than enough of an answer, but you felt obligated to continue since you were the one who started this conversation in the first place.

“...No.” Your teeth found your bottom lip while you tried to gather your thoughts in a way you hoped would make sense, all while pushing the memory of the fundraiser-turned-bloodbath out of your mind. “I’m saying I don’t understand.”

Chrollo leaned back in his own seat, still looking directly at you. “You’re here to keep the police from doing anything foolish.”

“I know that!” The frustration in your chest made itself known. “But you could have taken anybody. One of the sponsors of the damn thing, or even some other random woman, yet you kept me alive. I want to know your reasoning for it.”

He didn’t seem upset by your outburst, if anything it just served to increase his growing interest in the conversation.

Likely because these were the most words you had ever spoken to him at a given time.

Bastard.

“I liked you.”

Such a simple answer, and one you did not expect from someone who typically played their cards so close to the chest. It threw you off whatever balance you mentally had, and you recovered with a scoff.

“You liked me?”

“Yes.”

A twitch went through your eye when he didn’t expand on that - the sound of pen on paper filling up the room once more. You refused to let the conversation die there.

“I don’t believe you.”

That was a lie, but one you were willing to risk if it meant bringing the topic back to life, and boy did it work.

Not only did he stop writing, he set the pen down on the desk in front of him and turned his whole body to face you. “Oh?”

Shit.

“I mean, I don’t know how you could decide using something like that in a situation that was such a spur of the moment.”

“What makes you think any of what I do is ‘spur of the moment’?”

That made you pause. He had a point there. In the short time that you knew him, he had proved himself to be anything but impulsive…

Your temples throbbed with a quickly encroaching headache.

“If it wasn’t, then what? Your choice was made before the bloodshed started?”

The words were spoken sarcastically, but you had no idea just how right you were until you saw his expression change from amused neutrality to one of…

Come to think of it, you had no idea what to call the look on his face. Admiration came closest to mind, but that didn’t feel right.

“You catch on fast, well done.”

You made a face, not a fan of the condescending tone. “So, what? If I’m not sacrificed to the cops in a hail of bullets, you’re going to keep me as some kind of pet?”

Amusement crept back onto his face. “Is that what you think?”

“If it is, I hope you know I’ll fight that with every fiber in my being.”

He hummed lowly, your promise of violence completely brushed to the side. “As intriguing as the notion is, I have no intention of doing such a thing to you.”

“Then what do you intend to do?”

A small smile appeared on his face, but he didn’t answer, allowing you a moment to draw your own conclusions.

When you did, you frowned.

“Not a chance.”

“Why?”

You gave him an indignant look. “You can’t seriously expect me to willingly be with you after everything that has happened.”

“I don’t, hence your current circumstances.”

Silence filled the air again after that. A nice reminder that whatever outcome you could’ve hoped for during this exchange, you were doomed to lose regardless.

All you could do was shake your head in malcontent and pick at the frayed ends of the couch again, unable to come up with anything further to say.

More amusement flickered across his face. “You do not wish to be my pet, nor to be my lover.” He sat back ever so slightly in his chair. “Tell me then, what do you wish to be?”

“Free.” You replied without a sliver of hesitation, locking eyes again with him once more. “But we both know that will never happen, will it?”

Chrollo threatened to genuinely smile at your answer and he shook his head once.

“No. It won’t.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2023. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.  

[anonymousewrites]

Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter Ten

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter Ten: Deals and Darling Overlords

Summary: After a disastrous meeting with Heaven, Alastor offers Charlie a solution to the extermination problem. (Y/N) meets a new overlord.

            The portal to Heaven opened up again, and everyone looked at it expectantly. Charlie and Vaggie stepped through, one after the other. Instantly, everyone frowned. Charlie was refusing to look at Vaggie, and Vaggie looked uncomfortable and gazed at Charlie sorrowfully.

            “What the fuck happened you two?” asked Angel, as tactless as ever.

            “The, uh, meeting with Heaven didn’t go well,” said Vaggie quietly.

            “What?” said Husk, frowning.

            Charlie crossed her arms, looking down. “The extermination is still coming, and Adam is coming for the hotel first.”

            “He’s what?” said (Y/N), blinking.

            “And I just discovered I’ve been lied to,” said Charlie sadly.

            “Charlie—” Vaggie reached out.

            “You should have told me!” said Charlie.

            “Uh oh,” said Angel, looking between them.

            “I wasn’t sure how to,” said Vaggie.

            “You were an exorcist!” said Charlie. She turned away. “And you didn’t say anything to me.” She ran up the stairs before anything else could be said.

            Vaggie looked down sadly before glancing up. She cringed as she felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on her.

            “You were an exorcist?” said Husk, narrowing his eyes.

            “I was,” admitted Vaggie. “But I…I stopped. I couldn’t hurt someone, and I was punished for it.” She touched her missing eye for a moment. “I don’t regret it, though. The exorcists…they’re in the wrong.” She looked at the group. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn’t sure how. But I swear, I’m here to protect you and help you. You’re my friends.”

            “…Okay.” (Y/N) nodded.

            “Okay?” repeated Vaggie.

            “I believe you. I don’t think you’d still be here if you didn’t really believe in Charlie and the hotel,” said (Y/N). “So I believe that you know you were in the wrong as an exorcist.”

            Husk shrugged and crossed his arms. “You’re intense and mean as fuck sometimes, but you’re not that bad.”

            “I agree!” said Pentious.

            “I guess you’re fine, toots,” said Angel. “And who hasn’t done some bad stuff? We’re in Hell for a reason.”

            Vaggie smiled slightly. She was still accepted.

            “So, like, where are your wings?” Niffty went straight to her own curiosity.

            Vaggie deadpanned. “Niffty, I don’t have—”

            “Did you ever think maybe she’s sensitive about her lack of wings, just like her lack of tits?” snickered Angel. He was right back to making fun of Vaggie.

            “Yeah. Where are your tits?” said Niffty, attempting to look down Vaggie’s shirt.

            Vaggie sighed, back to being annoyed by everyone. “Any other questions?”

            “I got one.” Husk had settled in a chair with a drink. “How come every time Charlie talks to Heaven we get in deeper and deeper shit?”

            “It’s not her fault,” said Vaggie. “Angels are just—”

            “Jerks?” suggested (Y/N).

            “—difficult,” said Vaggie. “But Charlie’s trying her best.��

            “That’s turning out real well right now,” muttered Husk.

            “And what is Miss Fearless Leader doing? Is she running away from the situation? Should we be doing that?” said Angel. “Or is it time for another ‘doomed-to-fail’ plan?”

            “She’s coming up with something, I’m sure,” said Vaggie. She frowned. “In our room. Alone.”

            No one noticed Alastor melt into the shadows.

            “What could she possibly be coming up with this time?” said Husk. “The exorcists are coming sooner than ever. They’re coming for us. There is no way to fix this.”

            “I’m sure there is,” said Vaggie. “We just haven’t found it yet.”

            “I have a question,” said (Y/N).

            “What?” said Angel.

            “Does no one ever fight the angels?” they asked, twirling a vine around their finger.

            “Angels can’t be harmed. They can give us our final deaths, and we can’t do shit to them,” said Angel, rolling his eyes.

            (Y/N) frowned. “So we’re just supposed to sit here and die?”

            “That’s what Heaven wants,” growled Husk.

            “That’s super shitty,” said (Y/N).

            “Life is shitty,” said Angel. “And the afterlife.”

            “At leassst our sssituation can’t get any worssse,” said Pentious.

            On cue, a green light enveloped the entire hotel. Voodoo symbols glowed on the roof, and magical energy hummed in the air, ominous and foreboding.

            “No, no!” shouted Vaggie worriedly, running upstairs towards her and Charlie’s room.

            (Y/N) didn’t waste a second and ran up after her, determined to understand what was going on. They arrived at the hotel room a moment after Vaggie. The green light had subsided, and Alastor was walking out with a self-satisfied grin.

            “Ah, (Y/N), perfect timing,” said Alastor. “You and I are running an errand with Charlie.”

            “What happened in there?” asked (Y/N), frowning.

            “Just a little deal-making,” said Alastor cheerfully. He tapped (Y/N)’s head with his cane lightly. “Now turn that frown upside-down. We’re never fully dressed without a smile, remember?”

            “Right, right,” said (Y/N), putting on a smile.

            “Good,” said Alastor, leading the way downstairs.

            “What errand are we running?” asked (Y/N).

            “Exorcists can be killed with angelic weapons,” said Alastor.

            I knew there had to be a way to fight back, thought (Y/N).

            “We need numbers to fight, so that’s what we’re going to get,” said Alastor. His grin widened and became genuine. “We’re visiting an old friend of mine.”

            (Y/N) was about to ask if this friend would cause trouble like Mimzy, but Charlie’s voice cut through, first.

            “We have a job to do.”

            Alastor and (Y/N) turned to see Charlie emerging from her room.

            She looked back at Vaggie. “You with us?” Charlie didn’t wait for an answer and turned away. “Are you ready, Alastor?”

            “Of course,” said Alastor. “And (Y/N) is coming with us.” He neglected to mention he had decided they were.

            “Let’s go,” said Charlie, nodding firmly.

            It was time to start the preparations for one of the biggest fights of their afterlives.

l

            (Y/N) glanced at the sign saying “Cannibal Town” as they walked with Charlie and Alastor in. They really shouldn’t be surprised, it was Hell, but they learned and saw new things every day in the afterlife.

            Speaking of learning new things, (Y/N) was learning about Charlie’s current relationship issues as she rambled.

            “Three years,” groaned Charlie. “Three years I’ve been sharing my life with her. And I tell her everything. My hopes, my dreams, my insecurities, my embarrassing habits. What fucking deodorant I like. And she keeps something like this from me. Why would she lie for so long? Does she think I wouldn’t accept her? What about me, me, says un-understanding…misunderstanding? Disunder—wait, where are we?”

            “Cannibal Town!” said Alastor brightly. “There’s a friend of mine I think you two should meet.” He linked arms with Charlie and (Y/N) and escorted them towards an emporium.

            “In Cannibal Town? But it’s…” Charlie looked around and watched everyone going about their day with more decorum than many other places in the Pride Ring. “It’s…surprisingly nice here.”

            “I like how calm it is,” said (Y/N). Compared to so many other places, it really was nice.

            “Isn’t it, though?” agreed Alastor. “And it’s all thanks to a very special someone.” He pushed the doors of the emporium open, and the three stepped inside.

            “Well, who hasn’t thought about eating their first husband?” A charmingly dressed demon with skeletal features laughed lightly. “I certainly would have if he didn’t taste so bad!” She smiled at her customer. “I tell you what. You bring old tall, dark, and armless to me, and I’ll straighten them right out, okay, sweetie? Now, here’s my card, and—” She noticed Alastor. “Oh my stars. Do my eyes deceive me?” She smiled with genuine joy.

            Alastor waved, and (Y/N) noticed that he seemed truly pleased to see her.

            “Alastor? Alastor!” The woman ran up. “Where have you been?” She grabbed Alastor’s shoulders, and he smiled as she spun him around affectionately. “These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and—” She noticed Charlie looking around. “Oh. Who’s this you brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she’s much to young for you,” she teased before laughing. “Oh, I’m just kidding. I know you’re an ace in the hole.”

            “A what now?” said Alastor, completely clueless.

            (Y/N) perked up. Alastor was asexual, like they were. That was…nice.

            The demoness woman saw them behind Alastor, and her smile widened. “And you brought another friend? Alastor, you’ve been so sociable!” She grinned at (Y/N). “You’re adorable! Look at those roses—can I touch?” she asked.

            “Uh, sure?” said (Y/N).

            The demoness gently traced a rose on (Y/N)’s head, and (Y/N) felt a smile appear on their face. She was soft and kind. “How sweet! Oh, I love roses.”

            (Y/N) really liked her energy. She felt comfortable to be around, calm and warm.

            “But where are your manners, Mister?” said the woman, putting her hands on her hips and looking at Alastor. “Introduce us, why don’t you?”

            “Ah, yes, Charlie, (Y/N), this is Rosie,” announced Alastor. “The most darling, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the pentagram!”

            Rosie curtsied. “Oh, always such a charmer.”

            “And, Rosie, it’s my pleasure to introduce you first to Princess Charlie Morningstar—” Alastor pushed her forward “—daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell!”

            “How do you do?” said Charlie nervously.

            “Well, well, isn’t this a regal surprise?” said Rosie, smiling. “And what about the little rose demon?”

            “This is (Y/N),” said Alastor. “My protégé.”

            “Hi,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “A protégé?” Rosie raised a brow, running through all of her thoughts and opinions on that before smiling. “How nice! Alastor needs to make more friends. Now, come in, come in.” She pulled (Y/N) and Charlie farther into the emporium. “Can I offer you something to eat? I’m sure I have a leg around here or something. Oh, what am I thinking, that’s too heavy. How about something lighter on the stomach? How about some nice pinky fingers?”

            “Um, no, no. Thank you, though,” said Charlie, staring at the pinky fingers.

            “I’m alright, thank you,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “Oh, look at you two, so polite!” Rosie patted (Y/N) and Charlie on the head. “Alastor, you could learn a thing or two.” She pulled (Y/N) and Charlie to a sitting room. “Well, sit down, sit down. Tell Auntie Rosie what she can do for you.” Charlie sat down like a client, but before any business, Rosie grinned at Alastor. “You know, Alastor, I got a primo connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickings for a deal to be made.”

            “I appreciate the offer, but we’re here on business of another kind,” said Alastor, gesturing to Charlie.

            “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” said Rosie. She picked up her teacup. “I’m a very busy woman.”

            “Well, as you know…” Charlie cleared her throat and broke down into panic. “The extermination is coming early. It’ll be here in a month. And they’re coming for my hotel and my friends first. And I-I-I—”

            “We need your help,” said (Y/N).

            “Your cannibals’ help, at least, to fend off the attack,” added Alastor.

            “Wow, when you ask a favor, you don’t start small, do you, Your Highness?” said Rosie. Charlie’s face fell, and Rosie smiled comfortingly. “Oh, now, don’t fret. I didn’t say I wouldn’t help, but I assume there’s more to this plan than a bunch of unarmed cannibals.”

            “Oh, your people will be far from helpless when we’re done with them,” said Alastor. His grin sharpened. “And by the end, they will be able to eat their fill.”

            “Well, in that case, sure. Why not?” chirped Rosie.

            “Really?” said Charlie, eyes wide.

            “Thank you,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “What can I say? I like your moxie, girl, and you’re just so sweet, darling,” said Rosie, smiling at Charlie and (Y/N). She grinned at Alastor, and the genuine friendship between the two was palpable. “And old Alastor has never done me wrong before.”

            “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” said Charlie.

            “Yes, thanks,” agreed (Y/N), smiling. They might have a chance as long as they got the cannibals completely on their side and armed them.

            (Y/N) had a chance to keep their family.

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

@gxdoesstuff

@grippleback-galaxy

@just-here-reading

@dmitrytherat

@a-small-tyrant

@marxo5

@rory-cakes

@andsoigotabutterfly

@theblueslytherin

@romyoia

@ray-rook

@thereeallink

@pandaquick

@funkyexistence

@theyaremorethanjustfictional

@lanxianschoenheit

@justyourfriendlyneighbourhood1

@ringsofpersonti

@futureittomainn

@enderpearltv

@oo0lady-mad0oo

@falsemain

@a-huge-bi-nerd

@lost-in-the-hellaverse

@tagthetrekkie

@amberforest08

[bun-z-bakery]

If you’re still taking requests, would you consider writing reader taking care of a sick dogday (and maybe him being difficult abt it?) plz? If not sorry to bother&have a nice day!

Yep! Currently I'm still taking requests! :3 I hope you enjoy!

Cold And Comfort

Dogday has been acting odd and it's gotten to the point where he has distanced himself from everyone, including you.

Naturally, you begin to wonder if you did something that hurt him and he felt the need to distance himself. 

3 days of this was enough and you decided a confrontation was needed. 

“Sunshine?”

You softly call out to him from behind the door. 

It's quiet, only the faint sound of breathing is heard. 

You slowly open the door, closing it behind you as you look around for your giant companion. 

It didn't take long to spot him wrapped in a pile of blankets, he even covered the window blocking the sun rays that he loved to feel on his fur. 

Carefully you make your way to him and gently shake him. 

“Dogday?”

You whisper to him as you take a seat beside him. 

Slowly he begins to wake up, you know from experience that Dogday is the type to enjoy sleeping in and will even sometimes pull you into a nap even if you have work around the house to finish. 

“Angel?”

He moves under the blankets and then slightly uncovers his face. 

He uses an arm to cover his eyes from the sun's rays. 

His voice sounded strained, similar to how it was in the factory. 

“We're worried about you, is so–”

He cuts you off with a series of sneezes, at first you thought it might have been the dust. 

The room was used as extra storage after all. 

But then you remember how he felt when you touched him. 

He was …scorching? 

“Are you ok?”

You try to keep calm as you feel around his face, but he can already sense your rising panic. 

You weren't familiar with toy anatomy, but this certainly wasn't something anyone warned you about. 

Surely he couldn't be sick, right?

Dogday takes a deep breath, you can hear a slight wheezing coming from his chest. That was all you needed to confirm your suspicion. He was in fact sick. 

“I feel terrible, I apologize for scaring you, my Angel.”

He covers himself again as he lets out a painful cough that makes you cringe. 

Seeing him in such a state made you upset. 

You try to think of all the reasons why he could've gotten sick. Allergies? 

“I don't understand how this could've happened.”

Maybe you were in contact with someone who was sick and you gave it to him. 

Does that mean there's a chance Poppy and Kissy are sick too? 

Whatever the case may be, he couldn't stay here. 

“Come on, let's get you out of here this dust isn't helping you!”

You exclaim as you try to pry him out of his blanket cocoon, but he refuses to move. 

“Angel, please don't fuss over me. I can assure you I'll be–”

He coughs before he can finish and you quickly remove the blankets. He begins to shiver once he's fully exposed to the air. 

“Dogday.”

You hold out your hand and he takes it, he's careful not to pull you down with his weight. 

Poor thing was shivering like a wet dog, but it had to be done. Aside from baths, he's never this difficult. 

You couldn't help but wonder why the sudden change. 

It took a bit of convincing, but you managed to get him back to your room and tucked him back into his blanket cocoon. 

“I'm not letting you move an inch.”

“Angel, don't worry about me…”

He attempts to plead with you again but unfortunately for him, you don't give up that easily. 

He was going to get better and you weren't going to let him suffer when you could help him recover faster. 

You gently scratch his ear, it doesn't take long for your gentle touches to put him to sleep. 

Quietly you make your way downstairs to make him a pot of soup. 

If he was able to get sick like a human, surely human remedies would work too right? 

Once you're finished you make your way back to your room with a bowl large enough to hopefully satiate someone as large as him. 

You thank Kissy Missy for opening the door and she gently closes it behind. 

Dogday must've been exhausted if he didn't hear you enter the room. 

You set the bowl on the nightstand and gently shake him once again in an attempt to wake him. 

“Sunshine!~"

You whisper to him and instantly his eyes greet yours. 

He begins to sniff the air before his eyes land on the bowl next to him. 

“Angel please, you didn't have to trouble yourself cooking for me…”

He said softly as he turned his gaze back to you. 

You sigh as you take a seat on the bed and turn to face him. 

“It was no trouble, you're no trouble! But you know what would be?”

He tilts his head to the side. 

“What?”

“No one eating the pot of soup I made.”

You jokingly pout. 

Dogday gives in and finally allows you to take care of him. 

Secretly he does feel guilty every time you need to cook different meals and buy extra medicine when the regular doses aren't effective. 

But he's glad it was his Angel who was by his side. 

Just like you had thought he did get better faster under your care. 

Soon enough he was back to his old self. 

‧₊ ๑˚.・

You lay in bed reading a chapter of a book as you unwind for the night. 

Suddenly you feel something heavy as your lower half sinks into the bed. 

“Hey.”

You chuckle as you hold the book to the side. Dogday lay sideways on the bed, he didn't fit in the bed laying sideways but he was in a good mood. His tail was always a dead giveaway. 

“I don't deserve you angel.”

He says in almost a whisper. 

His voice sounded much healthier than I did a few days ago, you've never been happier to hear his barks and howls again. 

“Is that why you were giving me a challenge?”

It saddens you to know how he felt but with his situation, you could see where he was coming from. 

“You've done more than enough for all of us. I don't want you to deal with more than you already are...”

“Well, your angel seems to think differently.”

You give him a reassuring smile and pet his head. 

“I think you deserve this and much more. Now please get some rest.”

You giggle at the last part as you playfully poke his cheek. 

“I've been resting all week!”

He laughed as he straightened himself to lay next to you.

“Hey, Angel?”

He turns his head to you. 

“Yes, Sunshine?”

You replied as you turned your head to face him as well. 

“Would you mind making that soup again for me?”

You quietly chuckle and put your book down for the night. 

“Sleep and I'll make all the soup you want until you're sick of it!”

You both laugh and Dogday quickly rolls over, hogging the blanket all to himself. 

You put your book on your nightstand preparing to say your goodnights but Dogday beat you to it. 

“Goodnight Angel!”

You playfully snicker as you try to stop his tail from hitting you. You couldn't help but smile at how the little things you do bring him the greatest joy. 

“Goodnight Sunshine.”

[hitomisuzuya]

Decoding Scara. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Fluff. Some humor. Soft Scara. AU

a/n: I wrote this cause we all want someone to take care of us when we are sick. One of my dad's girlfriend's kids gave me this gnarly awful cough. Kid doesn't even cover his mouth 😭 I don't want this shit, no one does. Next on deck is Diluc smut. I should be on the last legs of this shit.

Achoo!

Scaramouche cringed.

You'd sneezed. You were sick. You had been for a few days now. Thing is, you were too proud to admit it. Sometimes, he thought you were more stubborn than he was.

Your cheeks looked flushed with fever, you sounded congested. You hadn't slept all that much because of it.

And Scaramouche had had enough of your shit. It ends now.

"Tch. Stop it, it's painful to watch you," He scoffed as he watched you from his spot on your bed, crossing his arms.

Up for a game of decoding? When you are dating someone like Scaramouche, you had to really listen to hear what he means when he talks. It's a weird thing for you to explain.

Decode: Please come rest, you are very sick and I am worried for you.

You rubbed your eyes before you looked at him. You looked so tired. "No, I still have things I need to get done," You said, giving him a soft smile before turning back to your laptop.

Scaramouche promptly got up, and closed your laptop. He rolled his eyes when you sputtered in protest. "No you don't. You look like you are going to drop dead any second now. "

Decode: It can wait. It's more important for you to get better.

You tried to open your laptop again, but Scaramouche kept his hand on your laptop to hold it closed. He picked you up bridal style and carried you over to your bed.

It really really freaked Scaramouche out when you got sick. He'd lost someone who he considered a younger brother to illness. He would be damned if he lost you like that too.

He wouldn't be able to bear it.

"I'm taking this," He picked up your laptop, and tucked it under his arm before he walked over to your bedroom door. "And I am locking the door from the outside while I am gone at the pharmacy."

Decode: Please stay in bed and sleep while I go get you medicine.

You knew there was no use in protesting. Scaramouche tucked the blankets around you, giving you a quick kiss before heading out to the pharmacy. He really did lock the door.

This boy, as soon as he got to the pharmacy, he grabbed one box of every cold medicine on the shelf. If one didn't work for you than you had others to try. The cashier gave him an odd look. He knew it looked totally shady.

"Fuck off, my girlfriend is sick," He snapped, glaring at the cashier. Unfortunately, the cashier didn't know how to decode Scara at all cause he didn't know him.

There was no reason to decode that one though.

After some coaxing and bickering, the cashier rang him up just so he would leave. That was fine with Scaramouche. He didn't like idiots holding him up, especially if they were preventing him from getting back to you.

Next he went to the grocery store. He bought various soups that would help sooth your throat, and a variety of teas, scoffing when he took a box of hot chocolate mix off the shelf. He despised sweet things, but he knew it would make you feel better.

The only sweet thing he didn't despise was you.

"Sc-Scara, what did you do? Buy the whole pharmacy?" You asked with wide eyes when he tossed the bag full of cold medicine onto your bed.

"Practically, just shut up and take your medicine. I also got you that mud you like to drink," He said, sitting down on your bed.

Decode: Take your medicine. It will make you feel better. I also got you hot chocolate because I know you like it.

Scaramouche spent the next few days hardly letting you get up for anything, making sure you took your medicine, and making you soup. He watched movies and TV shows with you, he would never admit it but he absolutely ate up reality shows for their drama.

Needless to say, once you recovered, you had your hands full taking care of Scaramouche when he caught what you had.

He would still kiss you even if you were sick.

[impactrueno]

I saw your twt about holding back on telling stories with serious and deep tones and it reminded me of an issue I had a while back. Im a south park fan and I loved reading deep analysis of the characters. and south park being south park, people dont take it seriously and think its just funny so it doesnt deserve deep analysis like other forms of media. I always came across comments saying "its not that deep" or "doing all of that for south park" and I used to hate that so much because why are you commenting that under the authors post? In media there is like a "spectrum" of how deep you are in it as a fan, and it doesn't make you less of a fan if you like to binge watch the show when you feel like it because its funny. Someone who makes fan fiction and psychoanalyses the characters doesnt make them a better fan than you. I hate "it's not deep" because it is that deep to me, I enjoy it, but it dismisses critical thinking and discourages deep discussions about our interests. I want to learn more about the turning point for eric cartman and the friendship dynamics between the main 4. I want to read psychoanalysis of the characters and understand why they do the things they do. I loved reading fan fics with an author that understood how the characters work and put them in situations while making it believable. Whether the content was deep and serious or lighthearted and silly. I don't see those as cringe at all. What I see as cringe is trying to downplay someones time and effort. you dont care for it. cool, just dont make it our problem.

I believe in recent years, this cringe and its not that deep mentality is linked to media literacy/reading comprehension issues. On top of the fact, that fandoms right now has been "normalized", so alot of mean and rude kids and adults are in this space not having a mature and respectful conversation and discussions, as well as zero fandom etiquette. (I understand the past wasnt this magical respectful place but this behaviour has increased compared to past years).

Please don't worry about making deep content, its super fun and there will be fans of what you write/draw that will definitely be into it.

GOSH anon you are absolutely right. cringe culture has done some serious damage to people's creativity and freedom of expression. doing things in earnest is now cringe to so many people (specifically that 18-21 age where they think they're better than everyone else and everything is cringe to them, image is everything) and they actually give you shit for it?? it's crazy. the most harmless thing in the world. whenever my hey arnold comics would leave my target audience on instagram i would get the meanest comments for no fucking reason, because i was taking hey arnold "seriously" (nevermind that hey arnold is probably the nicktoon with the most emotional depth and moments besides ginger but i digress) but hey at least i'm not the one losing my marbles over some random cartoon comic on the internet.

i think rudeness in general has been too normalized not just in fandom, but in social media in general. it's sad. the only thing you can do about it is be kind as much as you can to counterbalance it. i'd like to think that rubs off on people just like how being rude rubbed off on them.

i said that thing about holding back because i'm admittedly too hard on myself sometimes. no one is calling me cringe or making fun of me for what i do, thankfully, people have been super cool and supportive. and it means a lot to me because i'm very earnest about everything i create, even when i try to hold back. i literally cannot help being myself. it's all i know how to do. i'm just glad i was able to grow a platform where i'm free to be openly passionate about the things i like, talk about them and why i like them, the little things that i find fascinating, the emotions they make me feel, all of that shit is awesome and i wish more people did that.

[avatarmerida]

It’s been awhile since I’ve had something to share but this is the piece I wanted to have ready for Valentine’s Day but better late than never, right? No plot really, just cringe fluff 💛💚

———

Hunter had a very specific way of managing stress. If there was something he needed or wanted to do that was important and he found it was overwhelming him, he would simply plan a series of slightly smaller but equally important tasks ahead of it to make the original task seem less intimidating.

It worked wonders in the coven. When he tried to work up the nerve to ask his uncle something important, he prolonged it by setting goals for himself to run a certain distance in a certain amount of time or memorize portions of the handbook or to make a certain amount of arrests first. The lists grew longer and more elaborate and while he did end up doing some things that previously caused him a great deal of anxiety, he still found a way to put off the thing he truly needed to do.

And despite the progress he had made, old habits die hard.

So now, here he was in the middle of Grom supposed to be enjoying the fruits of his labor but all he could do was scream internally. He had done the impossible, he had asked Willow to Grom and yet he couldn’t enjoy it because there was more (or at least there was supposed to be). Normally, this would be the impossible task he aspired to accomplish but he had one more outlandish feat to reach for and he was having trouble finding a solid, logical reason to keep putting it off.

“Gus,” Hunter whispered nervously under the guise of coming up to his table to request a song . “Are we totally sure that Willow knows we’re here together like on a date?”

Gus’ smile faded as he lowered his glasses to give his friend a look. “Seriously dude?” said Gus with a familiar sigh, having been there at every step of Hunter’s doubt and anxiety regarding his feelings for their friend. “I was there: she said yes. She said yes and hugged you and like a billion flowers bloomed in her hair. She was obviously so beyond happy that you asked her, why are you so worried?”

“Because of how I said it,” groaned Hunter. “I said ‘do you want to go to Grom’ I didn’t say ‘with me’ or ‘as a date.’ I mean, of course she wanted to go!”

“Hunter, seriously?”

“Yes, seriously!”

With no impending doom or unrealistic and unhealthy expectations set for him, Hunter’s mind had more time and room to focus on more pleasant things. His feelings for Willow had been progressing slowly in the background but now that he was embracing what it meant to be a normal teenager, his feelings rose to the surface as soon as they could. Now there was no reason to feel guilty about getting distracted by the sound of her laughter or practicing jokes in the mirror before bed each night to try and impress her. No, guilt was not a feeling he associated with Willow but the feelings he did associate with the plant witch were unique and powerful and confusing.

Hunter’s friends had assured him this was a totally normal way to feel about a crush, but Hunter didn’t have much experience with normalcy and he highly doubted that he’d ever get used to the way his lungs stopped working when she stood near him. So when he had decided to do something about these feelings, he approached it with the extreme attention detail he had always approached everything.

The only difference was that unlike a vast majority of his other interests, Willow was real.

“Well usually when you do a gromposal it means you want to go as more than friends ,” said Gus. “Otherwise you say ‘hey since we don’t have dates let’s all go to Grom as friends.’ You usually don’t spend all night arranging her favorite flowers to spell ‘GROM?’ on the flyer derby field for someone you like as just a friend.”

Hunter blushed, rather pleased with how his efforts had turned out. He had aimed for something both grand and personal in hopes it would translate to romantic. It had been a unique challenge to get Willow to look down as she was so focused on winning their usual end of practice match (loser paid for the eyescream) but when she finally did, her expression was priceless.

They had flown back up so she could take a selfie with it in the background and he had made it his scroll’s wallpaper because he simply could not stop looking at it.

“But we had already agreed to go as a group so how can I be sure that she knows I asked her specifically because I like her as more than just a friend if we’re doing group things all night because I don’t know what to do on a date.”

“You can just be direct, dude,” said Gus. “Tell her you like her and you’re having a good time and stuff.”

Hunter had no problem doing that, he had done it plenty of times. Whenever Willow planned something or suggested they do something like that, he always made sure to tell her what a nice time he had. It was just proper manners. But complementing her in a way that voiced his constant thoughts was another thing. He could tell her the cafe she suggested was a great spot any day of the week, or that her plants were looking strong, but he wanted to tell her his admiration for her far surpassed anything she merely did , it encompassed everything she was . It was confusing because it seemed like something beyond mere words, he wanted to express his gratitude every time she messaged him or said his name or walked into a room.

For some reason he thought Grom would give him the courage to do it.

“It’s just that… there’s… more …”

“More?” Gus repeated, intrigued. “More how ?”

“It’s just… well Luz might have mentioned- and I’m not saying this is the only reason I asked Willow to come with me- that sometimes at Grom people who are more than friends have certain ways to… express that.”

Gus narrowed his eyes and offered Hunter a knowing smirk. “You wanna kiss her, don’t you?”

Hunter wrung his hands as his breathing became shallow, his eyes darting over to Willow laughing with Luz and Amity and Hunter felt a familiar lightheadedness that the event’s ambiance had been amplifying all night.

“Yes,” he said breathlessly, knowing he couldn’t and truthfully did not want to deny it. “Yeah. I do. Very much.”

“Dude!” Gus explained, playfully punching him in the arm. “That’s great! You should go for it!”

“I mean, there’s just one problem with that…”

“What? Bad breath?”

“No, I- wait,” Hunter quickly checked his breath to ensure he hadn’t neglected that detail. He had been chewing mints all day. “No, not that. It’s just that, well, uh,” he chuckled nervously as the words quickly spilled out of him. “Willow maaaay be under the impression that I don’twanttokissher.”

“And whyyy exactly would she think that?”

“Well…”

Three weeks earlier:

“Hunter!” Willow greeted him joyfully as she opened the door to find him waiting with an equally wide smile to hers. “Hi! You’re right on time!”

“Oh, that’s a relief, I timed my pace so I would be,” he said

“Did you bring the stuff?” Willow asked with a giggle.

He held up his book bag with pride. “Got it all right here, safe and sound.”

“Perfect!” said Willow, her voice low and mischievous. “Let’s go!”

“Perfect! Yeah, okay let’s go-woah!”

Willow excitedly reached out to take his wrist to pull him inside and Hunter happily trailed after her.

“Dad! Papa! Hunter is here and he says hi and we’re gonna be in my room!” she called as she ran up the stairs.

“Okay petal, sounds good! Hello Hunter!” called Harvey.

“Hello sirs!” Hunter called back as best he could.

“Have fun!” Gilbert added.

“We will!” Willow called back as they finally made it to her room and just as she was about to shut the door behind them, her fathers added in unison:

“And make sure the door stays open!”

Willow groaned in defeat as she obliged, as though she had been hoping to outrun the instruction.

“Why do they always say that?” Hunter asked as he unpacked his bag, a collection of threads and patches as they prepared for a long evening of uniform customization to surprise the Entrails for their upcoming game with personalized jackets. Darius was always asking him to close his door, mostly because of how loud he liked to play his music.

“Oh, you know how they get,” she said simply, rolling her eyes endearingly. “They’re just overprotective.”

“Are they… scared of me?” Hunter asked, his voice low and hurt and Willow jumped to address the misunderstanding.

“Oh, no! No, nothing like that I promise,” Willow assured him with a smile he knew could never be deceptive. “No, they love you, they really do. They wanna give us our space but they also wanna make sure we’re not up here kissing.”

Hunter completely stopped working.

"What?” he basically squeaked after a moment, certain he had misheard her somehow.

“Oh, well ya know if we keep the door open then they think we’ll be less likely to kiss because they can like walk by and see,” Willow explained casually as she went to help him unpack the bag.

“W-why would they think we would be up here k-kissing?” Hunter asked in a panicked chuckle before clearing his throat, he felt like he was on the surface of the sun. “Ya know, cause we’re totally not.”

“Well, yeah I know that but if we leave the door open they’ll know that too,” said Willow with a shrug. “Personally, I think they’re just nosey because of how they used to be when they played flyer derby.”

“How come they never say it when Gus is with us?’

“Uh, it’s just a dad thing I guess,” said Willow, as she sorted the supplies trying not to show the mild blush creeping on her face. She knew why but she didn’t know how to say how she knew why.

“Just a dad thing, sure,” Hunter repeated lightly. So her dads thought there was a possibility they would kiss? Cool, cool, cool, no biggie. He knew he had been the last one to arrive at the Park residence several times and opened the door to find her and Gus laughing on their scrolls, or Luz or Amity would be over when he came to pick her up to go train and often the door was even locked. No he was the common denominator. He suddenly recalled Camila had a similar rule for when Luz and Amity were left alone. His mind raced to connect the dots as he realized that the Parks thought that if the two of them were specially left unsupervised, that they would…

“Ha ha yeah! A dad thing, totally!” Hunter exclaimed with forced laughter. “So totally not based on anything! Haha, because that would never happen!”

“Um, okay?”

“Yeah because we don’t, I mean we’ve never, we would never… I mean, what?”

“Are you okay, Hunter?” asked Willow, sitting on the edge of her bed beside him. He suddenly was aware of how often they sat on her bed together. Why did that make him feel nervous?

“Yeah, I’m totally fine!” he said, very much aware of how much he was sweating. “I’m great! I’m totally not thinking about kissing you! Ya know, if you want I can run downstairs and let your dads know they don’t have to worry about the door because of how much I don’t think about it!”

“Um…”

“I mean, you and me? Us? Kissing? Pssh!” Hunter continued, unaware of how to stop talking. “Who even thinks about that sometimes? That’s, uh, woah that’s a good one!”

Willow’s fathers must have read his mind or his diary somehow because Hunter had definitely thought about it. Never on purpose, it’s just one of those random scenarios that your mind makes up every few days, right? He couldn’t help that one day he realized that Willow was the perfect height to kiss on the forehead. Like, it would take very little effort just to lean forward and gently press her lips below her hairline. It had been in the human realm, the first time he had helped her in the garden and had ended up being chased by a swarm of bees. When Clover stepped in to explain things, she pulled him into an embrace to ensure he hadn’t been hurt and to let him know how happy she was that he had come out with her. When he looked down to assure her that he was fine, the thought devoured every corner of his mind. The action would certainly convey his feelings, would summarize words he wasn’t sure had been invented yet. It would just be really nice actually.

Over time, that thought evolved. His daydreams wandered to fetch visions of some nicer timeline where they had met under different circumstances and he was the kind of bold who kissed her hand when they met or kissed her cheek when they parted ways. The first time his unconscious mind leapt to insert them in place of O’Bailey and Ivy in the famous scene under the endless moon of Jupiter 7 where they sealed their love for each other with a kiss, Hunter awoke in a cold sweat feeling like he had reached a point of no return. But it must not be okay because Willow’s dads were clearly taking actions to prevent it and Hunter felt he needed to deny these claims, lest the front door to the Park house be closed to him forever.

“I mean, w-why would I try to kiss you? That just seems so-.”

“I got it, Hunter,” said Willow sternly as she rose to move the supplies to her desk. She kept her back to him as she organized the needles and threads. Her voice lacked its usual spunk, it was a tone he was unfamiliar with. “Message received, you don’t wanna kiss me. I’ll let my dads know they have nothing to worry about.”

---

“Dude…” was all Gus could say as Hunter finished his retelling.

“I know, I know!” Hunter groaned as he covered his face with his hands. “It’s bad, right?”

“It’s…not great,” Gus couldn’t lie. “But hey, it didn’t stop her from saying yes! That’s good, right?”

“But her dads think there’s a possibility that I would want to kiss her so much that they keep the door open to prevent it,” Hunter was letting all his pent up worries spiral out of him while Willow was out of earshot, but luckily Gus had become a pro at reeling him back in.

“They probably just remember what it's like to be young and have a crush on someone.”

“How do her dads know I have a crush on her?”

Gus couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little. “I mean, did you ever consider that you weren’t the one they were worried about?”

“What do you mean? I was the only one there.”

“I just mean, they know Willow better than they know you…”

“I’m not following.”

Gus sighed, knowing that the sharing of Willow’s feelings was not his responsibility but he couldn’t help relating to her frustration with Hunter’s inability to pick up hints no matter how obvious.

“Hunter, you got this far, just be honest.” he said sincerely. “We both know you want to tell her you like her.”

“I mean is that too much for one night?” Hunter asked in a panicked whisper. “Should I tell her I like her first and then reschedule the ki- or, hold on it’s probably weird to schedule that, huh? I mean what if she doesn’t feel that way about me and then boom! I’ve ruined her night because she’ll always remember this Grom as the night she couldn’t enjoy herself because I don’t know how to tell her I think about kissing her without being weird. Titan, and she just looks so… gah, is it hot in here?”

“Hunter, I promise nothing could ruin this night for Willow,” Gus chuckled. “Do you remember how excited she was when you asked her? You barely finished the question before she tackled you, you guys nearly fell to your death because she was so happy. It’s all she’s been talking about all week, I promise that you telling her you think she’s awesome will not ruin her night.”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Gus said confidently. “Just don’t get too in your head, you know? Willow cares about you, she wants you to have a good time too. She’s not gonna care if you’re a bad kisser.”

“Thanks Gus, you know I really-,” Hunter cut himself off and offered his friend a glare as his voice became low and menacing. “I didn’t say I was worried I’d be a bad kisser.”

As Gus continued to attempt giving his friend a pep talk, across the room Willow could not take her eyes off Hunter.

“Doesn’t he look so cute?” sighed Willow dreamily as she stood beside Luz at the punch bowl.

“Darius and I may have to disagree with you on that,” Amity laughed as she poured Luz some punch. “After all the hours we spent suit shopping and at the tailor, he comes down the stairs in another ensemble from 2008.”

“Well you said he couldn’t wear the Cosmic Frontier cosplay,” Luz reminded her girlfriend. “So he had to make an impression somehow , and you know how much he wants to impress Willow.”

“Did he really say that?” Willow took a break from her string to gleefully ask. She felt like she was going to leap out of her skin as she looked back at him knowing he had gone out of his way to put in so much effort for her sake yet again. “Well you can tell him it’s working.”

“Ew, tell him yourself,” Amity groaned playfully.

“Oof, believe me I’m trying,” Willow chuckled softly.

“Are you guys having fun on your daaaaate?” Luz asked with a raised eyebrow.

She waved at him from across the room and he bashfully waved back, straightening his spine when he saw he had her attention. Willow giggled, finding it charming and endearing. She had been looking forward to this moment for weeks, preparing to ask him before he had beaten her to it. She knew he wanted tonight to be special, he was going all out at every turn to make sure she was comfortable and having fun.

She couldn’t help but hope it was all leading to something more.

Two weeks ago:

They were walking down the sidewalk in the human realm, revisiting an ice cream shop they had grown fond of when they had been trapped in the human realm. They had made sure to get a pint of their newest flavor of the month for Gus who had stayed at the Noceda’s to help Camila set up her old projector for a special viewing of the Cosmic Frontier holiday special that had only aired once that she had recently found her old recording of on a device even Luz considered historic.

Willow had recently caught up with the reading required to understand the special, but Camila had informed her that it was not canon and rather controversial in the fandom. This excited Willow and so she was spending their walk back trying to guess the wildest thing that could happen as though composing a bingo list to enhance the experience.

“...I also think they’ll reveal Ivy has a twin and O’Bailey will go to confess his feelings and then you find out it’s her twin and so it won’t count,” Willow continued. “And I know no one knows O’Bailey’s secret and it feels like they definitely don’t find out until closer to the end but I feel like memory loss is gonna be a big part of-.”

“I would wanna kiss you!” he blurted, unable to hold it in anymore. It had been weighing on him all week and hearing her talk about his favorite thing while looking so stunning sent him over the edge.

“What?”

“Er not right now!” He said, realizing the volume of his admission made it seem like he intended to follow though at that very moment. “I mean well yes right now as in I still feel that way but I’m not saying it because that’s what I… I just, I mean last week when I said that I wouldn’t kiss you I wasn’t saying that because I thought it would be unlikeable or unpleasant.”

“Oh,” Willow said, shaking herself out of her daze as she made the connection. “Wait, is that why you’ve been acting so weird?”

“I’ve been acting weird?”

“No, well yes but no I mean,” Willow smiled as she swung the bag of treats, feeling giddy at his timing. “I could tell you’ve been worried about something, but have you been making yourself crazy just to tell me that kissing me wouldn’t be so bad?”

That was definitely part of the reason but a larger percentage was what he had planned for tomorrow after practice: a gromposal that had been in the works since he had learned the term. But he couldn't give that way, not just yet.

“I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t offended you.” Hunter said softly. “I didn't want you to think I didn't want to because it didn't sound appealing, I’m sure it would be… nice.”

“So then what's the real reason you don't wanna kiss me?” Willow asked with a sly smile that faltered when she saw the color leave Hunter’s face. “Oh no Hunter, I was only teasing! It’s fine, really! I know you didn’t mean anything by it! It’s okay, really!”

“I just meant that your dads wouldn’t need to worry because I would never kiss you unless you wanted me to,” Hunter clarified with a deep breath. There, perfect. Now they could continue their way back to the house in peace and there would be nothing more to worry about or-

“Okay what if I said I wanted you to,” she began, her voice dancing and spinning like a vine twisting its way to the top of a fence, eager to see the other side. “What if I said I wanted you to and you had no doubt that I was totally okay with it? Would you… do it then?

“Is that… what's happening right now?”

Willow bit her lip as she took in the sight of the tall, nervous boy in front of her. He cared about her so much, so much it made him nervous. She knew everything he cared about he cared about intensely and with unbreakable loyalty. But she had suspected for awhile that the way he cared about her was different. That was what made it so familiar to her.

“What would you say if it was?” She said, giving a non answer. Because it was one thing to say ‘I want to kiss you’ but somehow even harder to ask ‘Do you want to kiss me?’ because didn’t other conversations have to happen first? Surely he was holding back because of the feeling that needed to be attached. Willow was nearly positive they shared these feelings, she was so so certain that a mind reader would know they were on the same page but neither wanted to risk losing what they had built by adding something heavier on.

But actions were louder than words, and a little harder to misinterpret.

“I uh, well I guess I-I would say…” Hunter stuttered to try and give a response without giving too much away. He had no way to support his theory with experience, but he knew that kissing Willow would be pleasant, it would be warm and soft and safe. But he couldn’t speak to the experience she would have.

But Willow once again shared his thoughts.

When Willow had woken up that morning, she had not intended to kiss Hunter in the middle of the sidewalk forgetting the urgency of getting their icy treats home before they melted, but at this moment she couldn’t imagine continuing the day without doing so. So many times they had been on the brink and being more, of something slipping that platonic friends did not harbor for one another. It was small and dramatic and silly and confusing and always there like a snowball rolling down a hill growing faster and bigger with every inch. She had always been a fan of directness, of being open and honest but she didn’t know how to say she felt this way plainly. It could be done in three words, nothing crazy complicated about that, right?

But something always held her back.

As she tried to summon a response both clever and truthful to try and help him find his own, the sound of church bells reminded them they were on a timed limit. More specifically, they were supposed to be back at the house before four o clock, which the bells indicated it now was.

“Well, anyway, we should probably be getting back,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I know Gus is probably jumping off the walls waiting for us and I really wanna hear more of your theories.”

“Yeah, right of course,” said Willow softly, as she tried to shake away the haze she had wandered into. “Besides, they won’t stay cold forever but also my fingers are starting to freeze.”

“Oh well here let me take it,” said Hunter, his nerves letting up when he saw an opportunity to help her. Before she could say anything, he maneuvered the bag from her grip. “The cold doesn’t bother me anyway, it’s a grimwalker thing.”

She knew even if it did he would endure it for her sake. It was an action so simple and small but it made her heart spin every time he leapt to her aide. It wasn’t because he thought she needed his help but because he enjoyed helping her, because maybe he was looking for any reason to be closer to her, even for a moment.

“Well aren’t you sweet,” she said. As Hunter readjusted his grip on the bags, she went onto her tip toes and placed a quick but purposeful kiss to his cheek and continued to walk as though it was no big deal. “Thanks Hunter.”

Hunter froze, trying to process and replay and stay conscious. It had been so swift and soft but it was as though the brush of her lips inspired the world to stop and adopt new colors. It was like something finally clicked in his mind, that he had thought it so impossible because he did not know how to take that step but he should have known he would once again follow Willow’s lead.

Willow smiled to herself, knowing in an instant that her risk had paid off. He quickly caught up her as she continued with her Cosmic Frontier theories, secretly delighted by the way his face was red the rest of the way home.

The ball was in his court.

-

“Do you guys think he asked me because he likes me or because he knows how much I’ve always wanted a gromposal?” Willow asked.

“Um… both?” said Amity as she and Luz shared a confused and slightly concerned look.

“Willow, are you seriously doubting that Hunter is crazy about you?” Luz asked sternly.

“Well, I mean he could still like me and still have asked me just as a friend,” said Willow. “He’s been doing a lot to try and be a normal teenager, what if he just thought that Gromposals were a part of that because of how much I was talking about them when I thought I was dropping hints?”

“Well in my experience, friends don’t normally practice in their bedroom mirror how they’re going to ask just friends to dance with them,” said Luz.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Willow said with a smile, Hunter actually had managed that. He could spin and shuffle with the best of them, but every time the music started to slow down he made an excuse to leave for the duration of the song. He would dance beside her, and she could tell he had practiced a few moves to impress her, but they weren’t dancing together . But she had a feeling with how much he built up the gromposal that he wanted his dance ask to be equally special.

“I’m pretty sure he’s waiting for the right song,” said Amity. “There’s this one he found in the human realm that Darius said he’s been playing nonstop because it reminds him of you.”

“Really?”

Amity’s eyes widened. “And I’m just now realizing that that was supposed to be a secret,” she grimaced. “Please forget I said anything.”

Across the room, Gus and Hunter were also discussing the song.

“Hunter, being the Grom host I have an obligation to keep the evening to a certain flow,” said Gus. “I can’t keep pushing back your song, the music has to flow, bro.”

“I know, I know,” he said nervously swirling his punch. “It’s just… every time I know it’s coming up I get in my head.”

The first few notes would start to play and Hunter would instinctively run past the joining couples with envy in the pit of his stomach to tell Gus to wait a little longer. The crowd would quickly recover, as Gus always knew the perfect transition out, and Hunter would walk back to her no closer to his goal than he was before.

“Well I have it queued up to play after we take our photo, so its time to figure it out,” said Gus sternly. “The worst thing that could happen is she says no.”

But that wasn’t true. Because she could say yes, thinking him asking meant he knew what he was supposed to do, but he knew if he was meant to take Willow by the waist and pull her close to him he would be paralyzed. And even if he wasn’t, what if after all the extreme movement he smelled or was sweaty and Willow would regret being so close to him? What if he tripped and fell? What if he stepped on her toes?

What if he thought about kissing her again?

In his mind he thought about using the idea of asking her to dance to delay the higher issue but Gus was right; it was time to figure it it

He didn’t ask Willow to Grom so he could sit in the corner hyperventilating about how much he liked her, no he wanted her to have a good time, and that was the perfect goal to distract him.

“Gus, do you have the song Willow likes? The one from the shoe commercial?”

“I might have had Luz help me get it, why do you ask?” Gus asked with a smirk that said he already knew.

“Can you play it?”

Hunter knew it would get Willow back on the dance floor in an instant, and he intended to be there when she rushed on in excitement. The iconic notes echoed, and Hunter saw Willow’s ears perk up as she turned her head to see it was true. In the human realm, Willow had been obsessed with the cheesy shoe commercial that played nonstop. And thusly, Hunter had been obsessed with how obsessed with it she was. It was improbable, everyone dancing in the street uninterrupted by traffic just because of how comfortable their shoes were.

Hunter stood in the center of the floor, his eyes locked confidentiality on her as they both knew what they had to do. Hunter got a running start and slid on his knees to her and quickly leapt up and gave her a wink, just as the actors did. Willow nearly squealed in delight, recognizing the reference instantly. She quickly grabbed his hand to lead him onto the floor and he happily followed behind her, feeling as though they traveled in slow motion. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, spinning and singing along just as they often did in the Noceda living room. It was too silly to be scary as Hunter found himself seeing her under the reflection of the mirror ball, her eyes shining as everything else around her melted away.

“You’re a really good dancer,” Willow said, catching her breath as the song started to fade out.

“Thanks,” he said, equally breathless. “Y-you too. Not that I’m surprised! You’re good at everything.”

She bit her lip as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, it helps to have a great partner,” she said shyly.

Hunter laughed nervously, becoming hyper aware of how close they were, how close they had been during the song. He saw her hand hovered beside his and he gently swung his own to knock into hers as though by accident. She inched closer.

“Well, just to be clear, you’re the great partner here,” Hunter said modestly, and Willow couldn’t help but blush, a string of small yellow flowers blooming in her hair. Something compelled him to take her hand, and he rubbed his fingers over her knuckle. He cleared his throat. “Willow, do you think-.”

“Willow! Hunter! C’mon! We’re next in line for the photo booth!” Gus called.

“We’ll be right there!” Willow called before turning back to him, giving his hand a small squeeze. “I’m sorry, what were you gonna say?”

He gulped, having the perfect chance to chicken out but knowing he didn’t want to. He pressed on right where he left off. “You think you might wanna dance some more after we take a photo? Like, just you and me? To like… a slower song?”

“Like a slower… romantic song?” Willow asked, testing the waters.

“Yeah, yeah t-the song could be romantic,” he gulped. “I-I-I’d prefer it to be romantic. With you.”

“Okay cool,” Willow said with a wide smile, sliding closer to him and lacing their fingers together. “Me too.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah,” she said brightly, absolutely smitten by the utterly adorable and shocked look he wore. “I’m having a really nice time with you, Hunter,”

He hadn’t messed it up. She was having a nice time, she was having a nice time with him. He took a deep breath and the words just started to pour out of him.

“Willow I just wanted to say that I’m having a great time with you too and that I always have a good time with you and when I asked you to Grom I didn’t ask you as a friend even though I really like being your friend but I asked you because I like you romantically and if you would prefer staying just friends I’m okay with that but I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to accompany me and express my admiration for you because I think you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met and also you look so pretty tonight it makes me feel dizzy.”

He leaned down and removed his hand from hers to cup her cheek as he quickly pressed a kiss to the other side before rushing to meet the others. His face was completely red and he fought through the lightheadedness to keep walking, stuffing his hands in his pockets to try and seem casual. He was too overwhelmed to wait to see her reaction.

He didn’t see that she was utterly enchanted as she watched him hurry with wide eyes as she touched the spot where he had kissed. A delighted smile overtook her face as she fluffed her dress and proceeded to float in the booth after him, her eyes fixated and determined. She was deaf to the chaos around her as the boy became surrounded by a vibrant, rosy frame. She had no doubt they were on the same page now, and the ball had returned to her court.

“Took you guys long enough! Tell Luz you vote for my pose first!” said Vee as Hunter was the first of the two to enter the booth, the rest of their friends in the middle of trying to agree on how to take the photo.

“Can we all even fit?” Amity asked as they tried to arrange themselves in frame.

“Yeah we just have to squeeze!” announced Luz. from beside her. “Gus, move over!”

“I will if Hunter does!” He replied as he turned to face his friend. “Hunter, dude, why-.”

Gus was greeted by Hunter wearing a face that he could only describe as seasick. His face was contorted like he wasn’t sure what to feel and as Willow entered his view just behind him wearing a soft, calm expression Gus knew why.

“You did it, didn’t you?” He whispered with a gasp and Hunter merely nodded, still feeling as though he could combust. Gus jumped up and gave his best friend a celebratory noogie.

“Willow, do you wanna stand by us or-.” Amity began to ask before catching sight of the dizzy expression her friend wore, an expression she knew all too well. She instantly knew the cause as she went to stand beside Hunter who was attempting to fix his hair. “No way,” she gasped as Willow wordlessly confirmed her thought by looking her focus on Hunter, shaking away the small flowers that had bloomed atop her head once again.

“Told you Amity!” Gus called victoriously before leaning down to whisper to Vee what had happened.

“Hunter, your bow tie is crooked,” called Luz as she pulled Vee back into the frame, too focused on preserving the memory to realize what was enfolding behind her.

“I’ll fix it,” said Willow with a dreamy smile as she reached out to adjust his tie. “I need to make sure my date looks his best for the photo, right?”

Hunter let out a high-pitched chuckle as Willow pulled him closer, and he didn’t really care that she technically wasn’t fixing his bow tie as her words echoed in his ears.

Date… date… date.

My date. She said he was her date. They were on a date, and they both knew it. She was his date and having a good time and it was all just so much that all he could do was give her a small nod of agreement.

“Hunter, put your arm around Willow.” Luz instructed as she looked at the positioning to try and get everyone in the shot.

“Yeah, Hunter put your arms around me,” Willow said dreamily as she used her hold on his bow tie to pull him even closer. Hunter felt transported, as though just being in her gaze made everything else around them melt. He had thought after his impulsive action she might look at him differently, but this was beyond his wildest dreams. Could it be that his impulsiveness was contagious? His hand cautiously hovered over her waist as he debated if he was indeed bold enough to put his arm around her. He felt like he was in a sauna as the sounds around them became muffled as he was overly aware of the sound of his heart beating. Or was it the sound of hers? He wasn’t sure if he technically had a heartbeat but whatever the case was as long as his eyes were on her everything was in slow motion again.

His eyes tried to spend equal time between her and the camera but there was a clear victor for his attention. “Have I told you how cute you look tonight?” Willow said with an airy giggle, deaf to the orders to smile and pay attention around her.

“Um hehe I-I don’t think so,” Hunter chuckled, his mouth dry.

“Well you do,” she giggled again, like it was some inside joke as she used her hold on his bowtie to keep him close. “Hunter, I wanted to tell you-.”

As Hunter turned his head to hear her better, he underestimated just how close they were and the movement caused their lips to touch unintentionally. Normally, that would be when Hunter melted into the floor or tried to vanish from existence, but even the small contact was enough to cause fireworks. That was when everything really stopped. It was nothing more than a peck, catching them both off guard, but there had never been a more happy accident.

She went down off her tiptoes slowly, both of them holding back any sign of a reaction until the other did. But there was no apology, nothing to be sorry for, nothing to regret, and once they both realized that they donned matching grins. They reentered reality together as the flash of the camera reminded them why they were here, and as their friends shouted their approval they also shouted out the themes of the poses they were supposed to be doing. Willow and Hunter got their bearings back and offered the camera a smile, which was not hard to do as they both couldn’t help but smile after what had just occurred. Another photo was taken and as the rest of the group moved and adjusted to do another pose, Hunter noticed his hand was still on Willow’s waist. Willow seemed to notice at the same time, and as her eyes found him again she was surprised to see he was already focused on her, or maybe he had never stopped.

Wordlessly they moved closer to each other until they realized they each possessed half of a magnet that was desperate to be kept together and found themselves in another kiss. This one was undoubtedly purposeful and not as sudden or quick as the first one. Willow’s arms went from holding his bow tie to drape around his shoulders taking a moment to plant lipstick marks all along his face. He saw the opportunity to use his hold on her waist to eagerly loft her off the ground, making a point to kiss her back. He wasn’t sure how he knew how, but he did and he felt like he could fly away as he felt her lips form a smile against his.

“Okay love birds, other people are waiting for the Photo Booth!”

It was like a record scratch as they stopped to remember where they were, eyes opening to come off whatever cloud they had been on as they faded back into reality once more. Willow leaned back to break the kiss, and Hunter couldn’t help but follow as though to savor the moment just a few moments more. She adjusted her glasses to better see the lipstick smudges she had left on his mouth and the side of his face paired with the goofy, awestruck look of disbelief.

“Sorry!” Willow giggled, as she looked around and realized the rest of their friends had left. “I guess we got carried away, huh?”

“Mhmhmhahaha,” Hunter squeaked in response, still trying to process that he was real and this was something that really happened to him in real life.

“Hunter, unless you wanna carry me out you’re gonna have to put me down,” Willow whispered.

“Oh yeah sorry yeah I can do that heh,” he said gently, setting her down. "We should uh, we should probably go.” He turned to leave but Willow caught his arm and pulled him out, so he left the correct way and didn’t re-enter the long line of other students waiting to take a photo.

“Well that’ll certainly be a photo for the scrapbook,” Willow laughed as she rested her head against his arm. They both felt that if they did not hold onto each other, they would float away. They knew the rest of the group was waiting for them by the bleachers ready to tease them, knowing from a distance they were at the ready with smirks of ‘About time’s and ‘I-told-you-so’s.

But Hunter was still lost in this impossible daydream beyond anything he thought possible. He couldn’t help but feel it had ended too soon, and now he truly had nothing standing in his way.

“Willow,” he began delicately as he cleared his throat, trying to seem calm and casual. “Would you want to uh, I-I mean if you could come with me, if you wanted to of course, outside where we could be alone, if you were okay with that, and I thought we could-.”

“Hunter and I are gonna go kiss in the hallway!” Willow announced giddily to the group as she redirected him to the door. His gaze darted between his friends and the wonderful girl who somehow read his mind, knowing thoughts he struggled to vocalize.

“Haha, whaaat? No, I mean that’s not.. I mean it’s not…” he realized it was pointless to try and hide his glee and as he allowed the dopey grin to overtake him as he embraced the moment and picked up the pace to follow her yet again and forever to no one’s surprise. “Heh, I’m Hunter.”

As they ran out the gym together, Hunter made sure to keep the door open behind them.

[ceceisbeingsilly]

ok hi i never post but i need to rant about ms caitlyn kiramman.

so im going to start off with, yes i am a caitlyn defender. (SPOILERS AHEAD FOR SEASON 2!)

i hate seeing how shes constantly hated on for her actions and yet a lot of those actions stemmed from ambessa feeding her the ideas, using caitlyn's hatred for jinx. caitlyn was also never allowed to properly grieve over the death of her mother either which also plays a huge factor in her choices and her mental state.

notice the line: "she inked poison in you ear and you just ate it"

her reaction wasnt defensive, it was more of a "i know what i did and it eats me up inside" which means a lot of her decisions she made across the past months shes been commander she hasnt been proud of or regrets entirely.

and now here is my analysis/rant:

episodes 5 + 6 of act 2:

when we see her interrogate singed, sure she did most of it, but ambessa was the one who asked about vander (warwick) and how to track him. yes, caitlyn was mad. she lost a lot of her guards and was probably mad knowing jinx was connected to it somehow.

but episode 6 is where i REALLY wanna dig in. when they arrive at the village, caitlyn's facial expressions made me cringe HARD. she looked uncomfortable and unsure. her face really says it all in this season, her eyes kept flickering, like she was nervous. nervous, uncomfortable, and unsure about what you ask? im not that sure. her feelings about zaun and storming somewhere where there is finally peace to find warwick could be the reason, but im not entirely sure.

then her interaction with vi: "she folded at cupcake" no i think she folded knowing that beast was vi's father AND/OR she folded seeing how vi has changed so much, clearly worried. telling vi the plan, betraying ambessa, finally doing something she felt was right for the girl she loves without... AMBESSA BREATHING DOWN HER NECK! i noticed that whenever we see caitlyn make most of her not so great decisions, its with ambessa or at the influence of ambessa.

you can also hear how harsher she gets when she walks into ambessa's tent, telling her they found vi. afterwards, knowing what happened and the plan and whatever, her whole harshness could've been a facade to convince ambessa the entire time she was commander. to convince ambessa how so? to convince her she was right for the role.

episode 8 of act 2:

okay. i am going to try really hard here. vi and caitlyn's argument really made me emotional. both of them were clearly mad, vi mad at caitlyn for doing what she did, and caitlyn at herself. going back to the line above, "she inked poison in your ear and you just ate it." caitlyn throwing the boat and her "i know" broke my heart. she knows what she did, and clearly isnt proud of it. i already said what i wanted to say above about this sooo...

the sesbian lex scene... im just gonna keep this short n sweet. if caitlyn didnt care about her and vi's relationship, SHE WOULDNT HAVE MENTIONED SLEEPING WITH SOMEONE ELSE! just saying...

episode 9...

i have nothing for this episode like analysis wise but i love vi and caitlyn. every relationship has its ups and downs, and i think their relationship had a huge down but like what silco said to ekko in the au, you have to learn to forgive.

updated words n edits/summary?:

im not saying what caitlyn did wasnt bad, it was bad trust me. it made me cringe most of the time rewatching. but i feel a lot of people think it was her and her alone making those decisions when ambessa was right there. ambessa used a lot of "we will do this" or "how do we do this" referring to caitlyn. like "we will avenge your mother" in episode 3 (if im wrong correct me please) or "how do we find this beast". im done now, caitlyn isnt perfect and her actions were a bit... yikes. but now my take on why she did it and how she feels about it is out there and for people to take into consideration if they want too :)

i may delete this later. (edited at 5:01 am because i wrote this at like 9 pm and reread it now realizing i forgot some points)

[sillylilyposting]

I know absolutely nothing about Utena. Do you think you can summarize the problems fans have with Lily's parody video?

Well...

I guess as someone who likes Utena in passing (i watched it recently relatively)

The none sequitor name humor wasn't appealing, just random and mean spirited

"Everything is Kingdom Hearts, Everything is Kingdom Hearts, Everything is Kingdom Hearts, Everything is Kingdom Hearts"

It didn't even seem like she WANTED to make it, as if it was an obligation, maybe that's how she framed it in her mind but the lack of passion and creativity for a parody is... painful

Very Lazy, she could have voiced it herself, just putting on silly voices or even had one of her discord kitt- I mean friends help out or MO the use of the computer generated voice is a particular reason for #4

Just a bit cringe innit

Lily has said in the past that "anger gets shit done" (something Anansi said in American Gods btw, not sure if she is quoting) and that's certainly true but getting SOMETHING done and getting SOMETHING GOOD done are different things

Being so angry about what people say about a work that you either

A). Don't get

Or

B). Don't like

Or both

You make a whole shit parody with jokes not laughing with it or them but at the show just ended with a mean misreading of what's actually fun or interesting about Utena, beyond any of that the video commits the worst sin it's BOOOOORING

[propertyofkylar]

midnight visitor (m!yandere incubus x gn!reader)

you meet damien at a club and are instantly entranced by this handsome stranger. but not only is he equally entranced with you - he has some secrets to hide.

cw: yandere, nsfw, alcohol mention

The bright lights and loud music of the club swirled around you. It would’ve given you a headache if you weren’t just drunk enough for it to be enjoyable.

Truthfully, you weren’t much of a club person, but today being the birthday of your best friend was reason enough for you to let loose for once. So here you were, surrounded by people on the dance floor.

You took a step back and cringed almost immediately when the heel of your foot came into contact with what clearly was someone else’s toes. You whipped your head around to apologize and found yourself face-to-face with an incredibly handsome man.

The frown on his face quickly faded as he eyed you up, flashing you a smirk. Your breath caught in your throat - the man was beautiful, and you were only human, after all.

“S-sorry,” you managed to get out, but the smirk on the man’s face only grew. You took in his long, dark hair, his defined cheekbones and the way his eyes seemed to be a dark red. But that must’ve just been the club lighting, you figured.

“S’alright,” the man said in a smooth, deep voice. He held out a hand. “You can dance with me to make up for it.”

“Um,” you felt your face flush. You weren’t used to this kind of attention. “Okay, sure.”

His hands slid to your waist and he pulled you close, the two of you moving vaguely to the loud music. It wasn’t like skill really mattered on the dance floor, anyway.

“I’m Damien,” the man said with a smile, and the look in his eyes made you realize he didn’t plan for this to be a one-and-done sort of dance. Not that you minded - your friends might be annoyed if you ditched them for a guy, but you had been at the club for a while now, and your group of friends had spread out, so they might not really mind after all. Besides, you had seen your best friend making out with an unknown woman in the corner just 15 minutes ago, so she had no room to speak.

You introduced yourself and Damien watched you like you were the most interesting thing he had ever seen. His stare was…almost enchanting, in a way. 

What a weird thing to think, you mused to yourself. Maybe you were drunker than you thought. 

After the two of you had danced for a few songs, Damien took your hand, sending shivers through your body. “You look tired. Would you like to sit down?” He gestured to an empty booth nearby, and you nodded.

“Yeah, thanks,” you said as the two of you left the dance floor and sat. He smiled at you and you felt that enchanted feeling again.

Damien laced his fingers together and rested his chin on top of them, looking at you like you were the only other person in the building. You weren’t necessarily an unconfident person, but frankly, you really weren’t used to this level of attention, and it made you blush. “So,” he said. “What brings you here tonight?”

“My friend’s birthday,” you gestured vaguely in the direction you had last seen her. “You?”

He gave you a smile that you couldn’t quite place. “Just…looking.”

“Oh. Oh,” you said, as you caught the intention behind his words. “Um. Well, I mean I’m flattered, but I’m not really—” 

Damien’s low chuckle cut off your rambling. “Relax. Not like that, so don’t worry.”

“Oh. Um, okay,” now you felt kind of stupid. You were making a fool of yourself in front of the hottest man you’d ever seen.

His eyes looked into yours before he spoke again. “You seem like you’ve had a long night. Would you allow me to take you home?”

If you had a drink, you surely would have choked on it. “I only live a few blocks away. It’s okay.”

Damien gave you another smile. “Even better. I can walk you home. Trust me, I’m a gentleman. No funny business,” he splayed his fingers as if that was proof.

Maybe it was the number of drinks you’d had, or maybe you just made impulsive decisions. Either way, you agreed, and the stranger walked you back to your apartment.

The two of you chatted idly along the way, not really talking about much. When you made it to the front of your building, you pointed and said, “This is me.”

The man looked down at you, and gave a soft smile. He leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, which felt more intimate than if he had kissed your lips, somehow. “Sweet dreams,” he murmured, but it felt like he meant something more.

That night, you were having the hottest wet dream of your entire life.

The handsome man from the club had his face between your legs, and grinned wolfishly before diving in, licking and sucking in a way that gave you pleasure like never before. “You taste so good,” he murmured, and the vibrations from his low voice sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body.

“Fuck…” you mumbled. At your response, you could’ve sworn you saw Damien’s eyes flash blood red. A small part of your consciousness knew it was a dream, but it felt so real. And so, so good.

One moment you were whimpering and squirming, clutching Damien’s hair as you moaned his name, then the dream suddenly switched and his form was looming over yours, looking not unlike a hunter sizing up his prey.

You felt something against your thigh and looked down to see his thick cock pressed against your leg. Your eyes met his and he smirked.

“Don’t worry, I know it’ll fit,” Damien snickered as he rubbed the tip teasingly against your entrance. He moved his head closer to yours so he could press kisses to your neck, before suddenly biting down. Hard. 

You squealed, twitching in a way that bumped the tip of his cock on a sensitive spot and made you squirm even more. “I don’t wanna wake up…” you mumbled, desperate for more.

Damien chuckled again. “Mm, they always say that.” And with that, he plunged his dick into you with a gasp.

It was a dream. You knew it had to be a dream. But it felt so real. And it felt so good. You were whining as Damien pounded into you relentlessly, his own face bright red.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “You feel even better than I imagined.”

You weren’t even able to form a response; you just laid there as he fucked you better than anyone had in real life.

“Hah, you’re taking my dick so well,” he whispered into your ear, causing you to clench around him. “Feels like you were made for me, doesn’t it? Feels so good…”

His words, coupled with his earlier acts, brought you close to your peak. “I’m–fuck–I’m gonna…” your words were interrupted as he touched a particularly sensitive spot inside of you.

“That’s a good pet,” Damien grunted as he slammed into you. “Cum for me.”

And you did, crying out his name as you came undone. But he didn’t slow down at all. If anything, he moved even faster and harder as his own climax approached.

“Fuck!” Damien yelled as he thrust his cock as deeply as he possibly could inside of you, gripping onto your waist as he came. Breathing heavily, he pressed a kiss directly below your ear and said your name quietly. It sounded so beautiful coming from him. 

“I’m gonna have to come back for seconds,” he said with a laugh.

When you woke up in the morning, the dream was nothing more than a hazy memory that you couldn’t recall no matter how hard you tried. All you knew was that your legs were sticky and there was a dull heat throbbing inside you.

At that moment, entirely unknown to you, Damien himself was pacing back and forth on the rooftop of your building.

Damien prided himself on many things. He was a confident man. He was incredibly charming and equally as handsome. He could get anyone to do anything he wanted. He had been a demon for a very long time and had spent many, many nights hunting down prey, visiting them in their dreams, and taking what he needed from them to survive. This was how it had gone for many hundreds of years (he had lost count at this point). It was simple, there was no attachment, and he never struck the same victim twice.

Until now.

He cursed to himself as he walked to and fro, deep in thought. You had stood out to him at the club, naturally - he was not one to take on just any prey. No, he had specifics in what he liked, and always got what he wanted. But there was something different about you. Something that he couldn’t quite place, something that sent shockwaves through his body every time he thought about you and how you had behaved in your dream.

Damien should have known you were different from the instant he smelled you at the club. You had smelled like the most mouthwatering dessert to him, and that is when he knew you would be his pet that night. Actually getting to taste you, though, was something he had never experienced. Imagine the most delectable meal you have ever had, and then multiply it by five. That is how you tasted to Damien. You were so soft, so sweet, so tender. 

It was maddening.

He had to have you again. He knew that, at least. His mind was overwhelmed with millions of thoughts rushing in, all of them centered around you. How he could see you again. How you would taste and feel in your dreams again the next night. How he could make you permanently his.

That settled it. He would have to visit you nightly and keep an eye on you during the day too to make sure no one else had you. You were going to belong to him and him alone. Damien knew at that moment he would do whatever it took to make sure you were his. 

A grin slowly grew on Damien’s face as a solid plan formed in his mind. He whispered your name into the wind, savoring how it felt on his tongue.

When he was finished, you would never think of anybody else.

[olderthannetfic]

Being autistic and having been around online fandom spaces for the last two decades, I can't help but notice that many things that today are"cringe and bad reasons we should bring back bullying (unless you're autistic)" used to be considered immature and girly and signifiers of fangirls specifically.

I got some good news recently, and my reaction, as a 35 year old autistic man, was to jump out of my chair, flap my hands, and say "SQUEEEE", same as any 16 year old who just saw some great fanart of Legolas in 2006.

The reason for this, of course, is that fandom has a lot of autistics, and autistic fans helped create a social scene where saying "squee" out loud is a normal thing to do.

But it's interesting to me to see how things I have always done used to be seen as childish and feminine (and therefore a reason to mock someone), and now are seen as a gender and age neutral reason to mock someone (with an incoherent little disclaimer tacked on about how they're making fun of autistic traits in a not-actually-ableist way, because autism and disability awareness had some a long way in the last few decades).

My conclusion is that SQUEEEE reactions are good and fun, that caring "too much" about fandom isn't a bad thing and shouldn't be gendered or infantilised, that making fun of people for being excited about their favourite stories is mean, and that being autistic shouldn't be a pre-requisite

You have my permission, no matter your age, gender, diagnosis, or lack thereof, to run around the room and make high pitched noises when you're delighted. Be cringe, be free, let your inner autistic Legolas fan out, and just enjoy things.

--

[unsanctioned-if]

I'm curious about the cast. Can you tell us more about them?

I’m so sorry this answer comes so late. One of the reasons for that is that, while I’ve had a good idea of the main cast and their personalities etc. from the get-go, things do change and shape as I write and I didn’t want to give out a bunch of information that I’d later change haha.

But at this point I feel like I’ve done enough work on them individually to be able to give a proper answer!

I’ll be including the characters that are set as “main cast” in the intro post (Cirern, Muir, Wren, Astra, Azora and Kirin) plus 3 additional characters that might end up being part of the main cast. Or not, I’m not sure yet. All I know is that they will appear, be important to some part of the story and that at least one of them will have a romance route option.

I’ll also include which characters are romanceable 😊

Cirern

Cirern might seem distant, coming and going on his own terms and keeping his interactions with the MC as short as he can. But like anyone, he has certain fondness for things and might end up saying more than he planned to when faced with particular questions or observations.

During his years at court, Cirern was known for being brilliant and polite, with an arrogance that would shine through only among his closest. He was seen either as a leader nor a follower, and luckily lacked the ambition that might otherwise make him an open enemy to Aíos’ crown. But little did those people know that his ambition was merely well hidden.

Those who knew him would describe him as lively with sudden bouts of melancholy, of thriving among people until he’d wordlessly withdraw without explanation. When the MC meets him, little seems to remain of the man he once was described as. But spending 19 years in someone’s presence is bound to draw out sides you might not expect to ever see.

Muir (RO)

When the MC first meets Muir, he is a dreamy child with curious eyes that seem to hold the universe itself. But as Muir settles into his skin those qualities begin to dim, and his strange sense of wonder turns into awkwardness and uncertainty, and eventually hardens him into a stoic and quiet adult.

Muir is simultaneously hardened to the outside world and very new to it. He doesn’t relish the prospect of talking to strangers or getting involved in business that doesn’t have to do with his and the MC’s goal. Your relationship with him is shaped and explored in chapter 1 and continues from chapter 2; it can be close or distant, but there is something inherent in his existence that ties him to you regardless of how either of you view each other.

Wren (RO)

Wren is a student at the Institute of Arcane Arts and is recognized by many of its teachers as one of its most promising minds. They come from a line of respected spellweavers who have become one of the most reputable houses in Aíos even with their shrouded and mysterious history.

Wren themself, while armed with a sharp mind that’s been honed by years of diligent study, lacks the experience of life outside of high, safe walls – both the walls of their family home and those belonging to the Institute. They would rather spend more time thinking than doing and is not always tolerant of people who can’t see things from their point of view. Sometimes they try to be suave but immediately end up cringing at their own comments.

Azora (RO)

A young woman with a fascination for the arcane – moreso because of what it could do for her and her cause than any interest in the arcane itself.

Azora embodies many traits that humans are looked down on for by the elves – impatience and impulsivity, for one. But she is likewise willing to learn and holds strong beliefs that fuel her decisions. Most would call her charming albeit stubborn with a self-sacrificial streak when it comes to the things she believes in (for better or for worse).

She struggles with reconciling what she has been taught with what she comes to learn, what that means for her perceived purpose. Her own mind has made her its enemy, and she often relies on others to a potentially harmful extent when doubt creeps in.

Kirin (RO)

Kirin is quiet as a shadow and moves much like one, too, walking in and out of your life as he pleases. He is devoted to his beliefs and for all intents and purposes, he seems devoted to serve you, as well.

He is practical but also idealistic when it comes to his faith and what he does for that faith. But the nature of his order is vague and difficult to grasp for someone not directly linked to them.

Kirin’s personality is hard to pin down since he seems to hide much of it beneath his purpose, just like how he hides his face behind his mask. He is calm, though; sometimes eerily so, and often finds amusement in situations where people might find such amusement distasteful. (Although there’s much more I could share, I can’t do it without spoilers, sorry!)

Astra (RO)

As a vampire, Astra can be described as having little regard for mortal lives, and it’s not beyond her to manipulate and scheme to nudge things in the direction she wants them to go. Sometimes that means feasting on the blood of the unsuspecting, and sometimes that is extended to a grander vision and goal.

Although she can be cruel, she is also fiercely loyal to those she’s close with and trusts. Beneath her exterior, something darker and more unpredictable simmers, though she rarely allows that side of her to show.

Rhalyf (RO)

Rhalyf is an Ekkeran hunter from the far north. His job is to track down unsanctioned spellweavers and to protect people from forces of magic that would do them harm.

Most view ekkerans as a bitter, cold people, but Rhalyf is quite the opposite. The hardship he has endured has only strengthened his belief in trying to create a kinder world. And to him, that means exterminating cursed magic, including yours.

Eéithn

Pixies like Eéithn is a rare sight in Aíos’ so called civilized parts. A person who encounters a pixie might count themselves lucky to experience something most could only imagine, but such triumph would be short-lived if they’re not careful when dealing with pixies and their love for trickery.

Whether Eéithn is different from his/her/their fellow pixies or embodies all the same qualities that the stories warn about is something the MC will have to determine for themselves. He/she/they can seem as sweet as he/she/they can seem cruel and might cooperate one moment only to switch allegiances the next.

One thing is for certain, though; like most living creatures, he/she/they is desperate to survive.

??? (RO?)

A cryn woman with bright eyes that don't seem quite right. (I really can't say more about her right now.)

Thank you so much for the ask!

[chaosgremlinmunson]

As inspiration for this douchebaggery in my DMs on Facebook, here's Steve being a bitch to someone who clearly paid zero attention and had no respect for his relationship.

👇 The inspiration is below 👇

Steve opened his laptop while he let his newest niece nap away on the new ottoman. She'd grabbed her tiny stuffed turtle, toddled up to him and said, “night, night” in her adorable munchkin voice, and Steve was done for. His ovaries, though long forgotten, wanted to explode immediately. He wondered if the hormones would affect the possibility of him carrying his own child for he and Eddie.

Speaking of Eddie, Steve looked back to his laptop and saw a notification for Facebook, the one social media he frequently used to keep in touch with his found family after they'd scattered to their colleges and new lives. He opened it curiously thinking maybe one of the kids had messaged him and found a girl he didn't know instead. He clicked her photo looking through her profile to see she was friends with about half the people he knew, so he chose to be friendly.

Eventually the messages veered from asking how he was doing, and how nice it was to meet him to flirtatious messages. He cringed reading it as he'd already mentioned his husband a good twenty times within the beginning of this conversation. To get a message saying, “so..are you single or happily married?” Made him want to reach through the screen and shake this girl. Hell, his profile has a profile picture of him and Eddie making out, his bio stating his infinite love for both his wonderful husband and their fur babies, Roscoe, Angel, and Thresher. How and why did this girl not realize he was happily married? In true mean girl Steve fashion he answered the video call she tried to send, his face that haughty mask he shone in during King Steve's reign in Hawkins high.

“Hello?” He said, sounding annoyed, “Is there a reason you called me?”

“Yeah, I thought it'd be nice to see your handsome face.”

“Look, sweetie,” he started, the absolute disdain clear in his voice and on his face, “If you used the last two brain cells you hadn't fried with all the bleach in your head, and actually, I don't know, read my bio on my profile or even my messages, you'd realize that A) I am happily married. B) I have mentioned my husband literally everywhere. C) My husband is absolutely the one for me, and way hotter than any bleach blond bimbo in my inbox, and D) which is rather appropriate for this, I prefer dick to pussy, so unless you're hiding something under that street walker wear in all your photos I wouldn't consider you even if I was single. Now, have a blessed day and lower your expectations when you speak to people. Or hell, pay attention to the signs around you.”

The girl was staring at him, her jaw dropped as he ended the call and blocked her. Eddie walked in just a moment later to Steve glaring at his laptop like it personally offended him and leaned down kissing his neck as Dustin and Erica followed behind to collect Stefania aptly named for the best big brother the party could ask for.

Once they were alone Steve pushed Eddie down into the couch straddling him, his tiny shorts riding up as he ground down on the sizable bulge beneath him. Eddie grinned up at him, he knew Steve was frustrated about something, but for now he'd take him apart in all the best ways and put him back together. If he wanted to vent about it later Eddie would be all ears.