#willow mcdonald

[pan-fried-autism]

Drew Grems other siblings (that he knows of), all adopted out at birth. I think they’ll meet eventually

[best-character-named-x-poll]

have you done your daily click

[thepunkmuppet]

yes tara willow and kennedy are amazing barrier-breaking representation and I adore them with my whole entire heart forever and ever, but also here’s just a friendly reminder that:

spike and angel have canonically had sex, as have darla and drusilla

lorne just straight up shamelessly asks angel out that one time (and is. you know. lorne)

I was gonna split it up into like ten different points but honestly just faith and buffy’s entire relationship you know exactly what I mean

also self explanatory, lindsey’s complete and utter obsession with angel that literally ends with his name being his last words. he is not normal about that old man like “it’s not me you wanna screw it’s him” “I wanna know the details, everything he did to you” UM HELLO WHAT

fred canonically has a crush on willow

buffy has a sexual and romantic relationship with a woman in the comics

lorne mentions picking up demon girls in pylea, meanwhile his mother has a whole ass beard and more testosterone than a bodybuilder (also he’s. you know. LORNE)

xander thinks having sex with spike is understandable because he is strong and mysterious and sort of compact but well muscled

illyria exists outside the gender binary

the visions are canonically passed by what is essentially true love’s kiss, and will only transfer if the person romantically loves the other person. in a universe where cordelia didn’t join angel investigations, doyle gave the visions to angel. I am so incredibly normal about this fact

“recently I’ve been wondering what it would be like to share the slaughter of innocents with another man. that doesn’t make me some kind of deviant, does it?”

vampire willow is very intensely bisexual, and angel confirms that vampires hold the same attractions as their human selves

faith “doesn’t take the guys she has a connection with very seriously”

lilah is canonically attracted to cordelia

CANON GAY ANDREW AND HIS DEEP AND HILARIOUS OBSESSION WITH WARREN XANDER AND SPIKE I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

angel has no problem spanking men <3

so yeah basically hey don’t cry all your favs are raging bisexuals :)

[hellsite-hungergames]

THE FIRST WAVE OF TRIBUTES

All tributes (With the exception of hellsite-hall-of-fame, God, Jesus, Tarlton, and Wallace) were chosen randomly, as were the pairs (Again, with the exception of 1, 18, and 32)

Information about the polls will be out a little bit before the polls themselves

Polls will open February 14th in the afternoon/evening (EST)

Second Wave will be announced sometime around 6pm EST

Tribute List under cut

@hellsite-hungergames vs. @hellsite-hall-of-fame

Vace (I Was a Teenage Exocolonist) vs. Herobrine (Minecraft)

Regulus Black (Harry Potter) vs. Edward Cullen (Twilight)

Merlin (Merlin) vs. Florida Man (American Mythology)

Gary the Gadget Guy (Club Penguin) vs. Sunny (Omori)

Benoit Blanc (Knives Out) vs. Ridley (Metroid)

Animal (Muppets) vs. Miku Binder Thomas Jefferson (Hamilton)

Clint (Stardew Valley) vs. Data (Star Trek)

Skunk Ape (Florida) vs. Daniel the Manager (Anon's manager)

Waluigi (Mario) vs. Timmy Turner (The Fairly OddParents)

Meta Knight (Kirby) vs. Castiel (Supernatural)

Death (Puss in Boots: The Last Wish) vs. Prince Caspian (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Katsuya Suou (Persona 2: Eternal Punishment) vs. King Arthur (Monty Python's The Holy Grail)

Squidward's Hopes and Dreams (Spongebob Squarepants) vs. Spiders Georg (Tumblr)

Anya Forger (Spy x Family) vs. Katniss Everdeen (The Hunger Games)

Hannibal Lecter (Hannibal) vs. Campbell Bain (Takin' Over the Asylum)

Jasper (Steven Universe) vs. Star Butterfly (Star vs. The Forces of Evil)

Tarlton (A completely real fandom) vs. Wallace (Wallace the Living Wall)

Mikhailo "Mickey" Aleksandr Milkovich (Shameless) vs. Dimitri Blaiddyd (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)

Duck (Don't Hug Me I'm Scared) vs. Everyone from Cats the Musical (Cats the Musical)

Jay Walker (Ninjago) vs. Miles Vorkosigan (Vorkosigan Saga)

Illyria (Angel: The Series) vs. Evan "Buck" Buckley (9-1-1)

Haymitch Abernathy (The Hunger Games) vs. Richard Gansey III (The Raven Cycle)

Ronald McDonald (McDonald's) vs. Amelia Bedelia (Amelia Bedelia)

Matt (Wii Sports) vs. Oswald Cobblepot (Gotham)

Edward Nygma (Gotham) vs. Tumblr Anon Icon (Tumblr)

Gillion Tidestrider (Just Roll With It) vs. Jedediah (Night at the Museum)

Reigen Arataka (Mob Psycho 100) vs. Willow Rosenberg (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Alex Fierro (Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard) vs. Puss in Boots (Puss in Boots/Shrek)

Jessie Prescott (Jessie) vs. George Costanza (Seinfeld)

Leon Scott Kennedy (The Resident Evil Franchise) vs. Han Solo (Star Wars)

God (Universe fandom/Deadbeat dads fandom) vs. Jesus (Christianity fandom)

[tara-fantastico]

Do you keep a list of changes you would make if you were made responsible for a remake of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or are you weird?

[meirimerens]

i know the Willow Mellow lore gets worse the longer you dig inside of it + it reflects even Worse on the writers when you put the actual words on her situation but let's not forget Darlings she is a child. she is 15 to 17yo depending on what piece of documentation we refer to, too young to consent to sex and therefore does not fit the category of "sex worker", and instead falls under the definitions of "sexually exploited youth", more specifically "sexually exploited child", as UNICEF, UNESCO, Convention for the Rights of the Child, [...] and general common sense all define "child" as "person under the age of 18".

she is the victim of kidnapping by her """adoptive father""" and of sexual exploitation by her (presumably adult) "clients" (as she does not appear to have a pimp, and is instead written saying she loves what she does and such giddy teehee fun. [powerful side-eye through someone in the writing team.] [she's not a Real Person I have to stress, so someone wrote her like this, wrote this kid like this.] [it is all part of a narrative in which she is struggling to shake off her "father's" exploitation, an inherently tragic one, but she still was written that way, and could have been written any other way, with any other "rebellious" act]). calling her a sex worker as a child who is basically the same age as P2 Capella or Grace is putting her in a Grown-Up category especially harmful considering we are supposed to read her as an indigenous girl, member of the Kin (even if her lore is Mysterious and Hazy) and indigenous women and girls are sexualized in racialized ways which often paint them as more ~~~naturally~~~ sexually liberated, or docile, or submissive, or [insert racist x sexist stereotype promoted by colonizers to excuse the mistreatment of indigenous women and girls].

tldr yes it's worse when you actually call her what she actually is, and worse tenfold when you read what the writers make her say about it [even as an inherently tragic situation that we can recognize and put words on (hence this post), she could have been written any other way, with any other rebellious act, but you know.] but you know x2 (SIDE-EYES SOMEONE ON THE WRITING TEAM VERY HARD TIL ME EYES POP OUT ME SKULL)

[nightshift-clocking-in]

🌟Head cannons about the twins🌟

Oliver is a Hufflepuff

Williow is a Gryffindor

Lily and her sister are named after flowers, the the twins are named after types of trees

Mary sings them the 'if I were a fish song' all the time, but especially in the mornings while they are getting ready.

Lily has them say positive affirmations in the mirror while they are brushing their teeth, so they know how special, smart and beautiful

I can't imagine faces so they appearance is loosely based on Erin Kellyman, becuase I think she is just gorgeous!

While Lily carried the twin, one of Mary's family members ended up being their donor.

[greencheekconure27]

No. No. Please don't tell me they cancelled Willow? Please---

They did.Fucking bastards.

So many stabbing candidates for Ides of March 2023...

[kuciradio]

Camp Flog Gnaw 2019

2019 marked the 8th annual Camp Flog Gnaw, hosted and created by Tyler, The Creator. Camp Flog Gnaw is a festival in Los Angeles held over the course of a weekend; with a myriad of artists ranging from up-and-coming to highly notable. One of the earlier sets was put on by Slowthai, a rapper from the UK, whose music draws from the grime scene as well as traditional rap. His energetic stage presence and strong, rough sound resonated with me and the crowd, creating by far one of the most interesting mosh-pits I’ve seen. 

Willow Smith, an artist that has evolved in both style and music throughout her young career as an artist, performed songs from her new project Willow that released this summer. Putting on a great performance and dazzling the crowd with with her ability, her backup singers harmonized effortlessly with her and Willow’s constant interaction with the crowd made it a fun experience. The crowd went into a frenzy as she brought out her brother Jaden Smith to perform “U Know,” a fan favorite, and “Summertime in Paris” off his new album ERYS.

By far one of my favorite performances was Thundercat, who played groovy songs as he infused funk, rock, jazz and R&B within his music. Thundercat sang and played his bass incredibly fast, showing the crowd his skill as he navigated through catchy riffs and seemed to be jamming out on stage. He brought out Michael McDonald to help him on the piano, who played well but demonstrated even more of his vocal prowess when he was given the mic. Michael McDonald performed “I Keep Forgettin’,” a huge song even today still played on radio stations and sampled many times by other artists. His voice hasn’t aged a day; he sounded even better in person, igniting the crowd to chant along. 

Just as the set was about to commence on its last song, one last guest was brought out, Kamasi Washington, a master saxophonist who played at an impressively rapid pace. Later in the evening as the sun set on the Los Angeles skyline,Tyler, The Creator himself came to the stage. Coming off the huge success of IGOR, his new album, his last stop on tour was here at Camp Flog Gnaw. Coming out to thousands of fans as he stood before everyone, the intro track “IGOR’S THEME” boomed throughout the venue, causing everyone to chant his name or yell in excitement. With a slight shift in his body to the crowd, Tyler screamed out “IGOR!” and the crowd jumped and smiled in return. He went onto perform the majority of “IGOR,” several highlights from his previous album “Flower Boy,” as well as a variety of songs from “Goblin,” an album released before his newfound acclaim. The crowd was screaming in joy for the entirety of the performance, affirming that Tyler had one of the best stage presences of the entire weekend. There were many more artists that I was able to see and enjoy as well as other performances I sadly missed out on. However, the experience was wonderful and will have memories of my time there forever!

- Angel Castro

[usahanna]

every time i remember that one McDonald's that had no playplaces but instead a room filled giant tablets for children i die a little

[ataraxiaspainting]

Animal Cannibal.

Yan Dottore x F Reader.

Synopsis: Violent individuals were frequently drawn to you, including your dear friend Willow, who shares your affinity for this destructive behavior. Your stalker, too, possesses a similar infatuation with you. The bond between the three of you lies in the intertwined emotions of violence and love.

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence/gore, stalking, cannibalism, minor character death, implied future kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of not SFW, and non-consensual human experimentation. 

Word Count: 2.2k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Goo Goo Muck by The Cramps

Killer Queen by Queen

Psycho Killer - 2005 Remaster by Talking Heads

I Want To Break Free by Queen

Tip Toe Thru’ the Tulips with Me by Tiny Tim

Exploration by Bruno Coulais 

Take on Me by a-ha

You Are My Sunshine by Charles McDonald

Everybody Loves Somebody by Dean Martin

Dream A Little Dream Of Me - Single Version by Ella Fitgerald (feat. Louis Armstrong)

“But love shouldn’t cost an arm and a leg!” – Possibly in Michigan (1983)

*~*~*~*

i. “My own experiments have given me a deep understanding of the true nature of suffering… and I’m keen to share it with a willing guinea pig, hm?”

You found a strange man outside of your house.

He was taller than you–with hair the color of mint that covered his eyes, his beard long and poorly taken care of with split ends and some leaves and small sticks stuck to the thicker parts of it.

He waved at you when he saw you approaching. He did not scare you, not one bit.

He did not blend into his surroundings well because of how unique his appearance was. He wore an open black waistcoat with some of its buttons hanging on by a loose thread and nothing underneath. His pants were torn from the knee down. Grossly, you smelled him before you even saw him.

“Hello, sir,” You say, stepping a bit closer carefully, skillfully, being sure to not make a sound to startle or agitate him. You have become well-acquainted with unfamiliar gentlemen lurking around your residence as daylight fades, after all. “It’s getting late, isn’t it? Do you have a place to stay? There is an inn nearby I think if you don’t.” For better or for worse, stealth is something you are quite intimate with. “Sir? Are you alright? Sir?” The man did not respond, simply looking past you like you were not there.

He looked on into the brightwood trees, the wild, overgrown bushes dotted with purple Sumeru roses, and the rising, circular moon. You have a sudden flash of inspiration; since you have no weapon on you, you could bite him and claw at him if he tried anything. Your eyes go downcast, to his tattered, dirty leather shoes, as you dismiss the idea. 

“Excuse me? Do you need something? Sir?”

“I don't,” The man finally said, his voice raspy. “What about you? Do you live somewhere?”

“Here, I live here.” You could not hear what he mumbled as a response because of how quiet he was. “I live here. This is my home. You are outside my door and I can’t get in. Please, if you don’t need assistance, take a few steps back from it.”

Instead of looking at him, you look at your door. That is when you saw it; a hairpin lodged into your lock.

The man took it out and ran into the forest.

Despite the slight dents on your front door's lock, your house remained in good condition. Its aged appearance stood in stark contrast to the lush greenery that thrived just a few meters away. The wood showed signs of decay, with splits and a distinct scent of dampness and decomposing fish. Attached to the house was a collection of neglected Sumeru rose bushes, stunted and infested with flies. A rockery filled the space with an abundance of rocks, while a fairy ring composed of squishy brown toadstools emitted a dreadful odor when mistakenly stepped upon.

ii. “There is a sickness inside of me. I feel it eating away at me, eroding my mind and body. But I do not care. If I have to suffer for knowledge, I gladly will.”

The well outside your house was, for lack of a better word, still decrepit. But still, it seems like the man did not do anything to it. On the first day you moved in, all alone, the old couple that lived a hundred or so meters away made a point of telling you how dangerous the well was, and they warned you to be sure you kept away from it. 

You found it as soon as you stepped onto the property, it was in front of your house after all, smelling strongly of damp, dirty water, behind a clump of trees—a low brick circle almost hidden in the high grass. There were nests of drain flies that from afar looked like crushed pebbles. It made you step back a bit in complete disgust before you turned in the opposite direction to put your things down.

Like most Sumeru forests, there were plenty of types of animals. There were crystalflies that were sometimes the only light source you had, frogs that sometimes crept up your legs as you walked in tall, wet blades of grass and nearly made you scream every time and lizards that always somehow found a way inside and slithered across your floors.

There was also an orange cat, who sat on walls and tree stumps and watched you while meowing loudly but slipped away hissing if ever you went over to scare it off.

You spent the first two weeks after you moved in making adjustments to the rather old house. You hardly ate or slept, you just worked. There were days when you did not change clothes or drink water even, being so focused on your work that you hardly noticed anything else around you.

“This is my favorite!” exclaimed Willow, pointing at the Padisarah Pudding that was blocked off by a wall of glass.

“How much mora is it?” You asked, taking out your wallet. “I'll buy it for you. I am buying some Samosas here anyway, so it is no trouble. If you want, I can buy you some too, I recommend getting the potato and pea one.”

“No,” Willow answered, shaking her head while chuckling. “I'm fine. I have to use up some old vegetables and meat anyway at home before they go bad or my parents are going to kill me for real.” 

“Alright, be sure to check the ingredients beforehand for any dirt or mold,” you said. “‘I do not want you getting sick.”

You stood by one of the bakery’s windows, observing the rain pouring down. This rain wasn't the type you could venture out into; it was the other kind, cascading from the sky and creating splashes upon impact. This rain was serious, and its current agenda was transforming the streets into a murky, soggy mixture.

There was nothing to do here other than talk to Willow and wait for your food. Not that that was a bad thing in your book.

You had met through a mutual stalker, to put it simply, and now are inseparable. Even though that man is currently rotting in a prison cell, the past still influenced both of your actions. You just thank Lesser Lord Kusanali for granting you good fortune. With every new stalker, Willow seemed to be connected to them somehow, making you two even closer than before. You bond over your shared reverence of violence and love.

So, you start talking.

You start talking with a tone akin to someone making small talk over the weather, but instead of dark clouds or how bright the sun is, you talk about the man you saw yesterday. Willow listens, nodding a bit from time to time while still looking both outside the window and to the glass wall where the desserts were placed for the viewership of the customers. From the way she smiles with every word you say, you know you have piqued her interest yet again.

“Interesting.” She finally says, her back turned to you as she looks out to the rainstorm.

iii. “I wondered, why does a man who has done nothing think he deserves everything? That is what this experiment is about.”

“Hello?” You say, opening your door. “You're back.”

“Yes,” The man answered, playing with the buttons on his torn clothing. “Only for you, beloved.”

“Should I be honored?” You asked. “Who are you? What are you?”

“Your prince, what else?”

“Who or what else are you?”

“Someone utterly in love with you, someone you love too.”

“How do you know that?”

"My mouth,” The man answers, leaning in closer to you with his tongue out. “Look—look at it. The better to eat you with, my dear. It hungers for you. I just know you are the one to finally satisfy it. It is in a wolf's nature to feed, after all.”

“I see.” You look down as he kisses you, showing no resistance. He has holes in his shoes. His big toes are sticking out like sore thumbs. You suppose that they are, in a way.

“You have two choices. One, I will eat you now; or two, I will cut your arms and legs off one by one and eat them in front of you slowly as you cry on the floor covered in filth.”

You considered this carefully as you thought of an answer, preparing to ask him why.

So, you do, because he does not stop you and you want to know, don't you? He does not stop you.

He says for love.

You ask again.

He once again says it is for love. You say that love isn’t something given as part of an exchange or contract, that what he is asking for is bitter and dry.

He simply laughs. “For love.”

“But do you love me?"

“You smell so good, like the finest rose in all of Sumeru, all of Teyvat, even all of Celestia.”

Struggling would be useless. “Have there been others?” You ask.

"You must be the seventh," he remarked, leaving you to grapple with this realization. Escape became an impossible feat as he denied you any chance to flee. 

As if responding to his words, the door creaked open, followed by a gunshot.

iv. “I could have simply sliced her apart the moment I saw her and threw her to my patients, but I could not waste someone as fascinating as her. She is a treasure trove of knowledge, and it is rather rare to find someone as interesting as her, my assistant.”

The man fell to the floor grasping his shot through chest. Willow helped you up. Life quickly faded from the man's once concealed eyes, his red eyes.

“The plan worked,” Willow said. “Good job. He won't see you anymore. We make a good team I think.”

You agree.

“You should boil some water.” She said.

You then shrugged. “I'm getting tired of soup.” You responded. “I want sauce or something to go with the Samosas.”

Willow did not say anything for a moment.

It was dark outside now, with the rain still falling from the sky and making tiny splatters on the soil, making it hard to see out the window.

Perhaps making soup for dinner was not a bad idea after all. Days like this called for comfort. “Fine,” You say, and Willow smiles. “I’ll start prepping ingredients.”

“I’ll run to my home and get the leftovers I talked about.” She is already putting back on her coat before you can rebut.

You sighed as you heard the door close. It was time to get to work, you suppose.

“Come out, my friend.” You take the meat cleaver out from the kitchen drawer where you put the rest of your knives, the said cleaver still stained with blood from the month before. “You are unsightly if I am being perfectly honest with you.” You mutter, shaking your head.

…

Dinner went off without any problems. It was a lovely feast. However, heating the Samosas without breaking them was kind of difficult for you because you only had one small pan and one large pot.

Something creaks in the distance.

Creeeeeeeeak. The floorboards. You and Willow are too busy talking to notice. The sound came from your bedroom. A man with a mustache the color of rotting mint that covered his mouth and chin, his filthy brown hair long and dirty, and even some animal fur being laid about everywhere on his scalp.

He sneaks out your bedroom window.

His shadow was hardly seen by either of you because of how fast he ran.

He was like a spider. The comparison was sort of funny because he knew how much you hated them.

He has to eventually make his way to Port Ormos to catch his boat back to Snezhnaya. 

But that can wait for later. You are so much better than business and any other projects he is currently doing or has discarded. 

All he can think about is you. He thinks of what to tell the current him, of how many stalkers you and your friend have murdered in retribution for their harassment.

Would he be delighted?

Would he be angered?

There is no way to know for sure. After all, whenever someone tries to talk to him they have to tread the line between being too nice and being too rude unless they want to find themselves on the other side of the operations.

There is just one more thing he needs to check before he goes. Just one. It will only take a minute. It will be quick.

He steps on the old well’s edge and looks down into the murky water.

He sees one of the clones’ skulls floating on the surface, its disintegrating bone covered in flies fighting each other for the tiniest scraps of fat. 

They buzzed and buzzed until he could not take it anymore and threw a large rock, breaking the cranium and scaring away the flying insects, though there is no doubt that maggots are being born where the eyes and tongue used to be.

You and Willow throw the bones down the well. Just what he thought.

Good.

v. “My work is the purest form of art there is. It requires painstaking detail and absolute perfection, all in the spirit of scientific advancement and understanding. As an example, the first part of this experiment in particular is a success.”

[sovksluv]

character list !

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☠︎︎ . current hyperfixation !

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𖤐 . Angel

[adore-laur]

ORANGE SLICES & POCKET LEMONS

— a girl falls for her niece’s charming & flirtatious soccer coach 🍊

——

Amaya's fingertips tap to the beat of an overplayed pop song, her hair whipping from the warm breeze from her car's rolled-down windows.

"Can we get McDonald's?" asks a soft-spoken voice behind her. 

She turns the radio's volume down to hear her niece better. "Not today, Willow. I don't want you running on a full stomach. And I thought you ate lunch before I picked you up!" 

Willow groans at her logical answer, her head dramatically lulling against the headrest. Amaya reaches back and pinches her knee. "Ow!" she squeals with a pout. "I did eat lunch, but I really want fries." 

"We're pulling into the school right now," Amaya says, turning left into the parking lot. "You need to ask me ahead of time." 

It's half past noon, and she's dropping her eight-year-old niece off at the local high school's athletic field for her first day of soccer camp. Amaya's sister works long hours at an office, so she happily agreed to take Willow to and from the sessions when needed. 

The camp is held three times a week for the entire month of July, and she has no idea what to expect. She doesn't know who the coaches are or what they'll do activity-wise during the two hours each day. All she knows is that Willow looks adorable with her frizzy ponytail, pink shin guards, and matching cleats. 

As Amaya pulls into an available parking space, she observes many cars and loitering families. Sticking her thumb's fingernail between her teeth, she nervously bites it. Most people here are probably snobby soccer moms who act above everyone else just because their child can kick a ball. Big whoop. Because of that, she always feels a little out of place in the town she's lived in her entire life, but she doesn't necessarily feel wrong about judging the locals. Her assumptions usually present themselves as true. 

Amaya steps out of the car, walks over to the side where Willow sits, and slides the door open. As she hops out, Amaya grabs what Willow needs from the trunk, including snacks and water bottles in a drawstring backpack, completed registration forms, a regular pair of shoes, and a headband if she needs something to hold her untamed hair back. She passes everything over to Willow, who's trying to break in her new cleats by jumping up and down.

"Ready?" Amaya asks while closing the trunk, knowing Willow has patiently waited for this for weeks. 

"I'm ready," she answers excitedly with a crooked smile. "I see where we need to give them my papers." 

Willow walks toward the people handing in their registration forms, putting her backpack on with a skip in her step. Amaya shields the sun from her eyes and follows her to the canopy tent. Two men are sitting behind a folding table and attending people, so she guides Willow to the line forming on the right where only a mother and her son stand. The son gets a stamp on his hand and then begins walking to the field with his mother. Amaya can't stay and watch since she has errands to run, but her sister said she trusts the people who run the camp, so she's not too worried about leaving Willow for a short time. 

Willow shuffles forward, and Amaya opens her backpack to take out the forms. A man wearing a grey hoodie and a black beanie looks up as he stacks a pile of papers. It's humid out, so she wonders how he's not dying from heat in his outfit. 

"Afternoon, ladies," he says in a deep and friendly voice. "I can take those from you." 

She hands over the forms, and he gives her a closed-lip smile. He's very handsome, with his clean-shaven face complemented by green eyes that sparkle from the sunlight upon a portion of his face. She subtly glances down and sees athletic shorts adorning his thighs, which are spread slightly on the chair he sits on. Tight compression shorts peek out from under them.

He skims the papers and checks whether Willow's name is on the list of kids who signed up. He then uses a highlighter to mark off her name before throwing a sugary orange slice from a bag next to him into his mouth.

"Nice to meet you, Willow," he says with calm enthusiasm. Willow holds her hand out, and he stamps it gently, the washable ink leaving an outline of a soccer ball on her skin. "I'm Harry, and you'll be in my group today. You can head to the red cones by the furthest soccer goal to warm up and make friends while we get everyone situated." 

Amaya peers at Willow and finds her looking up at her eagerly. With a ruffle to her hair, she tells her, "Have fun, okay? I'll see you in a couple of hours." 

With that, Willow is off and running toward the field with all her belongings. 

"Thank you so much for coming out today," Harry says, resting his elbows on the table. "I'm the head coach for the camp, so if there are any concerns, questions, or emergencies, my phone number and email are listed on our fliers"—he picks one up and offers it to her—"or on our website." 

"Perfect," she replies, taking the leaflet from him. 

"And what's your name?"

"I'm Amaya, Willow's aunt. Am I all set?" 

"All good to go, Amaya. Just so you know, everyone is allowed to stay and watch. There are chairs and bleachers available." 

"Oh, cool. I actually have to run some errands, but I'll be able to stay tomorrow." Amaya begins walking away, waving at him. "Have a nice day!"

"You as well!" he calls out, chewing on another orange slice. 

On Amaya's drive to the grocery store, the thought of seeing his face several more times throughout the month leaves her with an unexplainable feeling in her stomach. 

—— 

After crossing off all the errands on her list, Amaya arrives back at the high school two hours later. On the way, she decides to get Willow fries from McDonald's, knowing she'll love her forever for it. 

Walking to the field, she sees the kids just starting to pack up. She spots Harry, his beanie replaced with a baseball cap turned around on his head. His hoodie is also off, and his white T-shirt is damp with sweat on his body. He has a coach whistle around his neck and a clipboard in his hand, occasionally writing stuff down while chewing gum. Occasionally, a kid will pass him on their way out, and he'll give them a fist bump. 

Amaya scans the area and finds Willow trying to remove her cleats. She seems to struggle a bit, huffing in frustration and slapping her hands on her thighs after each failed attempt. A few seconds pass before Harry strolls over to her, handing his clipboard to another coach. He kneels in front of her as his mouth moves to form a question. Amaya can't hear him from where she's standing, but she assumes he's asking Willow if she needs help. She nods defeatedly, and he doesn't hesitate to set one of her cleats on his bent knee, untying the tight laces with ease. He untangles the other one and then stands with a smile. Amaya watches them exchange a couple more words before he gives her a fist bump. 

Harry smacks his gum and looks around, quickly recognizing her and pointing so Willow can see. She ungracefully grabs her stuff and begins running toward her, and Harry follows, his hands clasped behind his head. The hem of his shirt rises, and Amaya can't help but let her eyesight drift down to his soft, defined stomach with two tattoos symmetrically inked above the waistband of his shorts. He smiles, maybe even smirks at her, before returning his arms to his sides. She's luckily saved from any further embarrassment since he gets whisked away by a mom nearby. 

Amaya clears her throat as her eyes focus on Willow instead. "How was it?" she asks, taking her cleats from her. 

"So much fun! I'm tired." 

"Good. Your mom will be happy about that." 

Willow grabs the container of fries and begins stuffing her face with the salty snack. Amaya laughs before looking up to find Harry returning to them. He's lifting the bottom of his shirt and wiping sweat from his neck. It takes everything in her not to look at his abdomen again. 

"Hey," he says through heavy breaths, standing in front of her with his hands on his hips. "Not a very healthy snack to have after physical activity, eh?" He nods at the fries in Willow's greedy grasp. 

"I had some of your orange slices, which are healthy!" Willow says. Amaya is surprised by how comfortable she seems with him already. It fascinates her how kids can befriend just about anybody in a couple hours. 

"They're covered in sugar, you maniac!" Harry argues playfully, making Willow giggle. 

"Wanna trade?" Willow asks, giving him her best gap-toothed smile and offering him one of her fries. 

Harry pretends to mull it over before accepting her offer. His jaw flexes as he chews, and his eyes move to Amaya. He raises his eyebrows and smiles mischievously, flicking his knuckle under his nose. 

"Hi," she says eventually, shifting her footing. "It seems like she had a great time. Thank you." 

"We had a wonderful time. Right, Willow?" He glances at her, and she nods excitedly. 

"I'll be here to drop her off tomorrow. At this point, I'm basically her chauffeur." 

Harry laughs, deep dimples appearing. Willow is distracted and talking to a girl her age, leaving Amaya basically alone with him.

"She's delightful," he mentions, bending his knee and stretching it. "Fast learner, too. We had tons of fun today." 

"I'll be sure to tell her mom. Speaking of, I should get her home. 

"Yeah, of course. Will I see you tomorrow?" 

"Yes, you will. I think I can stay and watch next time." 

"Cool. Have a nice rest of your day, guys." He steps toward Willow and holds his fist out to her. She bumps it while he steals one of her fries and tells her, "Take care, kiddo." 

Once they're both back in the car with the air conditioning blasting, Willow says, "I like my coach. He's funny and gives us orange slices. He also told me to tell you to bring an umbrella tomorrow since it might rain." 

Amaya's heart skips a beat, her hands tightening around the steering wheel. Did he really say that? Why? It seems odd that he'd go out of his way to prepare her, a mere stranger, for the weather. But she's not going to complain. She has the bad habit of forgetting to check the forecast.

She shakes those thoughts out of her head by turning the radio on and letting lackluster lyrics fill her brain the entire way to her sister's house. 

—— 

On a dreary Wednesday, Amaya drives Willow to her second day of soccer camp. 

Her sweatshirt is haphazardly thrown over her body as she impatiently waits for the traffic light to turn green. She was running behind this morning and was only slightly speeding so they could make it to the high school on time. This session is held at nine in the morning instead of the afternoon, so her body is still waking up. She didn't get to make coffee before she left. However, Willow is wide awake, looking out the raindrop-covered window as she practically bounces in her seat. 

The town streets are slick as Amaya turns into the parking lot. Thankfully, they're only three minutes late. As she shuts her windshield wipers off, she suddenly remembers forgetting an essential item—an umbrella. She was so rushed to get on the road that she forgot to pack one. It's not raining too hard, and she has a hood, so she'll just have to suffer through it. Maybe a mom will kindly lend her one, but she doubts it. They'll be too worried about their highlighted hair getting drenched. 

Amaya and Willow walk to the field after they grab their stuff. Everyone is already warming up—kids are running around, soccer balls are being passed, and fast feet splash in shallow puddles forming on the grass. The rain has now subsided to a sprinkle, but a gloom still dulls the sky. 

Coach Harry is easy to identify, obviously because he's much taller than the kids, but also because he's wearing a multi-colored, retro-esque windbreaker with its hood thrown over his curls. He's holding a clear cup of green liquid while juggling a soccer ball with his feet. She watches his eyes focus entirely on the task below him. There's also another bag of orange slices peeking out of his pocket.

Willow joins her fellow campers, dropping her backpack on the short journey toward Harry. In Amaya's peripheral vision, she sees a heavily pregnant woman walking past her while holding her daughter's hand. Harry seems to have a sixth sense since his attentive gaze immediately spots the woman. He effortlessly kicks the ball into the nearby goal and then jogs over to her while sipping his drink. The woman waves and sends her daughter off, but not before Harry gives them each a fist bump. They must know each other well because he soon places one hand on her shoulder and the other on her rounded stomach as they converse, laughing and smiling. 

Amaya looks away before she gets caught. 

Crossing her arms, she centers her attention on Willow, who's kicking a ball back and forth with a boy. She looks like she's in her comfort zone. It'll be nice to watch her today.

It's hard not to notice Harry going down the line of parents, shaking hands, and conversing briefly with each one. She realizes she's at the end of the line, and anxiety transpires. He reaches the person next to her, putting on a charming smile. She can immediately tell that the mom is trying to flirt with him since she's twirling her hair and looking at him like he deserves eternal worship. 

Harry smoothly moves the conversation along, waving at the woman before standing in front of Amaya. "Hi!" he says, surprised to see her, reaching his hand out for her to shake. 

"Hey, how are you?" she replies, shaking his hand gently. 

"Good, good. I'm happy to have you stay this time. The weather's a bit rubbish, but we'll manage." 

"Yeah, I forgot my umbrella at home. It's not too bad, though. It could be a downpour, I guess." 

"Here, I'll grab mine," he offers, already jogging toward the bleachers and opening a large duffel bag she assumes to be his. He strides back, opens a black umbrella, and hands it to her. 

"Thanks," Amaya mumbles shyly. 

"Anytime. I'll talk to you after the sessions, yeah?" 

"Oh, um, sure." She clears her throat. "By the way, I really like your jacket." 

"Thank you. One of the kids said I look like his granddad, so it's nice that someone appreciates it." 

"It's very eighties." 

"And there's nothing wrong with that, eh?" he says, smiling with his mouth wide open. 

She just laughs, not knowing how to respond to his charm.

"All right, I'll leave you be. Behave," Harry tells her with a wink before returning to his group of kids. 

With a small sigh, Amaya mentally prepares herself for the next two hours. 

—— 

The kids run to pack up their things when the final whistle is blown, indicating the end of today's activities. The sun had made a glorious appearance about an hour ago, yet the itchy humidity after the rain is making Amaya's forehead and upper lip sweat. 

As she's observing Willow gulp down water, the sprinklers on the field suddenly turn on. Every kid gasps and immediately runs back over. The bliss of being that young and carefree is always something Amaya wishes she could experience again. 

A few coaches bring out super soakers and spray the kids without warning. An eruption of screams and laughter travels through the air, the scene unfolding lifting the mood of everyone around. Amaya finds Harry curling his fingers in a beckoning motion to sneakily acquire a super soaker from a nearby coach. He catches one before sprinting down the field and blindly spraying behind him. The other coaches toss squirt guns on the field for the kids, and they clamber over each other to get first pickings. 

It's absolute chaos, but her cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

Willow goes after Harry by spraying his back relentlessly. He dramatically falls to the ground and plays dead, spreading his arms and sticking his tongue out. Willow giggles infectiously, attacking him again while other kids gang up on him. He's crying out in faux pain, acting like they're doing considerable damage. The white shirt that he has on (he took off his windbreaker when the sun came out) is now utterly soaked. It sticks to his abdomen, revealing a dark outline of something there. 

Harry eventually stands, holding his hands up in surrender, as the kids get distracted by their parents chasing after them. Amaya's breathing becomes shallow when he takes off his shirt—even more so when she sees his tattoos. His body is buff, and his tattooed arms are covered in sweat. Her mind has an impulsive thought of wanting to bite them. Is that too far? 

He bends over and shakes his wet hair like a dog. The whistle and gold chain around his neck glimmer from the sun as he looks around, ensuring no one else will attack. He does a double-take when he catches her eyes. Grinning lopsidedly, he salutes her using two fingers. She waves as he heads over to her, grabbing a backpack and water gun, his shorts riding low on his hips. Is that a tattoo on his thigh? 

"Am I in the clear?" he whispers, looking behind each of his shoulders as he tucks a water gun in his shorts, but not before flipping it theatrically like he's in a Western movie. 

"I would hope so, but they might sneak up on you," Amaya replies, trying to keep her eyes off his body. 

"Keep an eye out for me, yeah? It's brutal out here." 

"I've got you; don't worry." She smiles. "This was a pleasant way to end the session." 

"We try to do fun things for them after they work hard." He twists the bottom of his shirt and wrings it out. "Willow got me good; did you see that? She straight up attacked me!" 

Amaya laughs and nods her head. She suddenly remembers that she has his umbrella next to her feet. She picks it up and hands it to him, saying, "Thank you for letting me use this." 

"Of course," he says as he takes it. "I'm pretty sure the mothers were jealous of you, by the way." 

Her eyebrows twitch in confusion. "What?" 

Harry leans in closer. "They constantly flirt with me, and it's so annoying. One lady even squeezed my bicep all sexually." 

"I mean, can you blame them?" She pokes his firm bicep. "Look at those muscles." 

He bites his lip and smiles widely, looking a little flustered. He then opens his backpack and pulls out a bag filled with candy orange slices. "Want some?" he asks. "I've got a bunch of extra for the kids on their way out." 

"I would love some." 

"They're my favorite. I love fruit. Do you? What's your favorite fruit? You look like an apple kind of girl. Granny Smith, perhaps?" 

"Granny Smith is actually my favorite! Good guess." Harry beams with sparkling eyes before opening the bag of sugary treats and handing it to her. "Thank you kindly, sir," Amaya says as the sky clouds over, a grey gloom suddenly hanging over the field. 

"A fair exchange for watching my back," he replies with a wink. 

As if on cue, a sneaky Willow comes up behind Harry, and before Amaya can warn him, she unexpectedly sprays her. "Willow!" she shrieks, her mouth open in shock. "You're supposed to get Harry, not me!" 

"Hey," Harry says, sounding wounded. "Give me those back, then. You're a traitor." He reaches for the orange slices, but she throws them to Willow. 

Willow catches them and quickly eats one before running away with the bag and her squirt gun. Amaya shakes her head as a raindrop hits her cheek. She glances up at the sky—it looks like it's going to rain again. 

"Shit," Harry mutters to himself. "I have to shut the sprinklers off. Don't leave yet, okay? I want to talk to you some more." He runs off to grab his shirt, then continues toward a shed by the bleachers. 

It's drizzling now, so Amaya puts her hood back up. Harry soon jogs back with his shirt back on his body and opens his umbrella before standing beside her, holding it over both of their heads. It's strangely intimate.

Parents and children are now filing out, surely not wanting to get caught in the eventual downpour. As Harry chats with a coach beside him, Amaya feels her phone vibrating. It's a text from her sister. 

It's storming badly where I'm working. The roads are terrible, so I'll be stuck here until it passes. Can you please take Willow to your apartment for a little bit? I'll keep you updated. Drive safe! 

Amaya replies with no problem, then puts her phone back in her pocket as a distant rumble of thunder echoes over the field. Not even a minute passes before it starts pouring out of nowhere, and Harry instinctively brings the umbrella closer to their heads as everyone starts rushing to the parking lot. The coaches and remaining parents help pack the equipment. The grass quickly becomes muddy and slippery. 

Harry looks down at her after the coach he talked to walks away to put the cones away. "Where's Willow?" he asks, his eyes showing concern. 

Amaya points to where she is and says, "Helping pick up soccer balls." 

"Can she get any cuter?" He cups his hands over his mouth and yells, "Willow! Your aunt doesn't want to get any more wet, so let's go! And give me my orange slices back!" 

Willow's head snaps toward his bellowing voice. She kicks a soccer ball over to the netted bag and then runs carefully on the grass to them. The thunder has gotten louder, and there are flashes of lightning every so often. The rain comes down in sheets, and it looks like the beginning of the worst storm the summer has seen so far. 

"Are you driving her home, or is she getting picked up?" Harry asks, fitting Willow's small body under the umbrella. 

"My sister just texted me and said that she's waiting for the storm to end, so I'm taking her to my place," she replies while matting down Willow's hair. 

"The roads will be terrible, Amaya," he advises gently. Listen, I have to lock up the concessions building. We can go under the roof and chill until the storm passes—if you want to, of course. It's just that everyone's leaving at once, and the roads will be dangerous, you know?" 

"Yeah, you're right. My sister wouldn't want me driving home in this with her kid." Amaya looks down at Willow and asks, "Does that sound good?" 

She nods. "Can I get another snack? I ate all the orange slices. Sorry, Coach Harry." 

Harry laughs, huddling closer to her. "Don't worry about it. I've got enough to feed an army. Uh, you take this and head over," he says, moving the umbrella to Amaya's grasp. "And I'll meet you guys over there shortly."

"C'mon, Willow, think of what you want for a snack." 

They walk under the concession building's roof. The garage window is open, displaying a variety of snacks, candies, and drinks. There's no one behind the counter, so Amaya sits down at one of the tables while Willow hungrily grazes her eyes over the food selection. 

"I want nachos," she says firmly after contemplating. 

"Can't you just get a candy bar or a bag of chips?" Amaya asks, looking out at the field and seeing Harry run over, his windbreaker now on. He runs around the back of the building and appears seconds later behind the counter, sticking a pen behind his ear and leaning his forearms on the surface.

"What can I get you, ladies? Willow helped clean up, so it's on me today." 

Willow points to the chips and crockpot of cheese sauce in the back, and Harry fist-bumps her. "Solid choice. I think that just promoted you to my favorite camp kid. Even if you ate all my orange slices." 

He turns around and pours a bag of nachos into a cardboard tray, and Willow skips over to sit with Amaya. Thunderclaps and rainfall are nice background noises under the concession stand's soft lights. 

"And anything for Willow's chauffeur?" Harry asks with a sly glance toward Amaya while pouring hot cheese sauce over the chips. 

"You pick." 

He looks at the food choices and murmurs, "Brave choice. Let's see... You mentioned you liked Granny Smith apples. And look what we have here!" He pulls a caramel apple on a stick from the stand and presents it to her like an award. Amaya stands up to grab the nachos and apple, taking two napkins out of the dispenser. 

"Solid choice," she repeats with a smile. 

"Pretty convenient if I do say so myself. I would've given you our signature stale beef jerky if we didn't have any caramel apples." 

"Very funny." Amaya shivers from the slight chill in the air. "Hey, are we allowed to sit back there? It's getting kind of cold." 

"Yeah, there are stools back here. I'll sit on the counter and look pretty while you eat." 

She decides to hop over the counter, not wanting to go back out in the rain to go through the back door. She picks Willow up first, having her hold her candy apple while Harry gently maneuvers her to the other side. Amaya is next, and she hopes this doesn't quickly become one of the most embarrassing moments of her life. Reaching his hand out to her, Harry helps her hop up backward on the counter. She slides her body around, and his other hand goes to her lower back to make for a gentle landing. She gives him a grateful smile as she sits on a stool next to Willow. 

Harry jumps up on the counter to sit across from them both, his windbreaker rustling while Willow crunches on her chips. 

"Aren't the coaches going to wonder where you are?" Amaya asks, taking a bite out of the apple. 

"Nah, I told them where I'd be," he replies nonchalantly. His features appear softer, and his eyes are clearer. Amaya isn't used to seeing him up close and in dim lighting. He's mesmerizing. 

"I can't believe everyone else felt safe enough to drive home. I get anxious if I'm on the road and it's even a little bit windy. Then again, they're parents, so they have more experience." 

"Hey, don't put herself down like that. Better safe than sorry, right?" Harry kicks his legs against the counter and asks, "How old are you, by the way? You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable."

"I turned twenty-four last month. What about you?" 

"Twenty-five," he says. "I'm getting old, right, Willow? She called me old today because I said my knee was hurting." 

"Yeah, you're old," Willow says distractedly, her eyes zoned out on the rain. "I'm eight, so I'm allowed to say that." 

Harry scoffs and reaches his foot out to gently kick her cleat. He then does the same to Amaya's sneaker, getting her to look up at him. 

"Are you not even going to defend me?" he says jokingly, pulling the bottom of his shorts up his thighs. "This is the second betrayal of the day, love." 

The pet name startles her. And so does his fully-revealed thigh tattoo. 

"Sorry, but you're pushing thirty," she taunts innocently, smirking at his offended expression. "Get it together." 

"Wow. I lend you my umbrella, give you orange slices, try to get you to like me, and this is what I get in return." He's acting like he's speaking to an invisible crowd, waiting for someone to defend him. 

"I already liked you," Amaya mutters, her eyes falling to her fidgeting hands. Willow is too distracted with her nachos to pay attention to what either of them is saying. 

"Sorry, I can't hear you over the rain." His feet trap her own, which are perched on the stool. "One more time?" 

Her lips form a thin line as she tries to move her feet away, but she purposely gives up because she secretly likes it. "I said I already liked you. You don't need to try. You're likable, and I'm sure the camp kids agree." 

"I like you, Coach Harry," Willow attests out of nowhere. "You're fun, and don't yell at us if we mess up." 

He laughs, but Amaya can tell it's out of bashfulness. "You two are boosting my ego. Better stop before I float out of here with a big head." 

"You're great at your job, and I've only watched you once," Amaya adds, flattering him even more. "I can tell you enjoy teaching these kids something you're passionate about. That's super special." 

Harry gazes at her, his eyes softening, and taps her foot with his before releasing them from his trap. "Thanks. It's demanding work, but every day, I come to the field and aim to have the kids go home having learned something. If not that, then the least I want is for them to go home happy, you know?"

She nods, finishing her apple. It's admirable that he talks so highly about what he does and what he wants the kids to get out of it. 

"How long have you been coaching?" 

"I coached a middle school team about four years ago," he answers with a reminiscent look. "Then, once I had to get an actual job at university, I stopped because I no longer had the time. I also lost my love for it with all the stress from my job and classes. After I quit that job, which was a blessing in disguise, I started this summer camp with a couple of friends two years ago. I got my passion for soccer back and became much happier with my life. I do this in the summer and work as an assistant P.E. teacher during the school year. I love it so much." 

"That's so incredible, Harry," Amaya commends, smiling at him with genuine awe. "Honestly, what you're providing for these kids is inspiring. I guarantee they go home and talk whoever's ear off about what they did." 

He sighs, leaning back on his hands with a soft smile. Willow then hops off the counter and reaches up to hug him. He freezes for a moment but quickly wraps his arms around her, rubbing her back. He whispers something in her ear, and she giggles. 

Amaya looks outside to see that the weather has calmed significantly, so she supposes she should get Willow home. "Ready to go?" she asks her. "The storm looks like it passed." 

"Do we have to?" she whines.

"Your mom misses you, so yes." 

Harry stands. "I can walk you to your car. I think I'll head out too." 

He locks up the garage window as Amaya throws away the garbage. Harry then leads them out the back door, locks it, and grabs his backpack on the way out. Standing under the narrow awning, he bends down, encouraging Willow to climb on his back. 

"I don't want her cleats to get muddy," he explains as Willow drapes her arms and legs over his body. 

When they arrive at the car, Amaya unlocks it and slides the back door open. Willow sits sideways so Harry can take her cleats off and set them under her seat. She holds her fist out to say goodbye, and he bumps it, moving a wet strand of hair out of her eyes. 

"Thanks for your help today, Willow. I'll make sure to get you nachos before we do drills tomorrow, so tell your aunt to be here early." 

Willow gasps in excitement, and Amaya rolls her eyes playfully. She closes her door and walks to the driver's seat. Harry follows with the umbrella as she leans back against the door, looking up at him. 

"Thank you again for the umbrella. And the food. And the company." 

"No worries at all. Will you be here tomorrow?" 

"Yep. Hopefully, the weather will be nicer. I'll try to be here early so Willow can get her nachos." 

"Sweet. Thank you for the pleasant company as well. And for the kind words. We'll have to do it again sometime." 

"I'd like that." She hands him his umbrella and opens the car door. "Get home safe, Harry." 

"Bye, Amaya." His deep voice bids farewell, saying her name like it was meant to be said. Harry then knocks on Willow's window and waves goodbye. "Bye, Willow. Meet me at concessions when you get here." 

She nods eagerly. Harry takes his keys out of his pocket and spins them around his pointer finger while walking backward toward his car, the rain dripping off his face and clothes. 

Amaya gives him a peace sign before closing the door. She sees him accidentally stepping into a puddle through the window, thoroughly soaking his shoes. He glances back at her and laughs, then turns around to get into his convertible. She puts her Minivan—which is quite embarrassing in comparison to his car—in reverse and pulls out of the parking lot.

Maybe one day she'll ride in his car with him, watching the sunlight hit his face as she learns more about the man who's effortlessly stealing her heart. 

—— 

The next day, Amaya arrives at the high school early so Willow can get her nachos and so she can steal some alone time with Harry. 

It's a sunny afternoon with weather that's not too humid or too chilly. She's wearing a white romper with sandals, two daisy clips in her hair, and sunglasses. Now that Harry is paying attention to her, she may or may not have gotten dressed up. 

Willow springs out of the car, hauling all her necessary stuff, and immediately heads over to the concessions building by the bleachers. She hasn't eaten anything since lunch to save her hunger for the nachos. The camp starts at three today, so she's definitely starving. 

Amaya follows her, already seeing her jumping up and down near the open garage window. Then she sees Harry behind the counter with a tray of nachos already made. Damn, he looks good. He wears sunglasses, a red bandana holding his hair back, and a black athletic jacket. For some reason, he looks more like a soccer coach today than the previous days.

She catches Harry's eyes, and he smiles while jerking his chin in greeting. She boldly hops onto the counter and sits cross-legged as Willow settles at the table and braids her hair. 

"Hello," he says, poking her daisy hair clips with his fingers. "I love those. Are you going somewhere fancy after this?" 

"This is fancy to you? But no, I just wanted to get a little dolled up." She shrugs, trying not to blush. "It's Friday." 

"Have any plans tonight?" he asks, fidgeting with his car keys on the counter. 

"Nope. Just me in my apartment with my dog." 

"Cool, cool. Nice. Uh, did you want a snack?" 

Amaya senses a hint of nervousness in his actions and tone. "I'll take some Skittles, please." 

Harry reaches into the fridge for the candy and then slides the package to her. She takes it and then lightly touches the bandana that secures his curls. 

"I like your bandana." 

"It'll be so fuckin' sweaty by the end of the day," he mutters quietly, so Willow doesn't hear his foul language. 

"Gross," she says with a grimace. "At least it's not raining." 

"Yeah, that's true. Did you guys get home safe and sound yesterday?" 

"It wasn't too bad of a drive. You?" 

"I had to put the top up on my convertible for the first time in a while." 

She opens her Skittles and pops one on her tongue. "Your car is so sick, by the way. Kind of sexy." 

"Amaya!" he scolds playfully and looks around, like what she said was controversial. "You can't be talking to me like that with your cute little outfit." 

Her skin heats profusely as she shoves more Skittles into her mouth. Suddenly, and thankfully, a coach walks over and signals Harry to get back to the field since the kids are starting to arrive. 

"All right, you two get out of here," Harry says. "See you in a bit." 

"Willow, let's go," Amaya says, heading toward the field while throwing the empty nacho tray into the trash. She really scarfed those down.

When she glances behind her at the concession stand, she sees Harry walk around the building with two items in his hands. Some fateful type of magnetism causes her to go back and meet him halfway. 

Once the distance is closed, she sees an orange in one of his hands and a lemon in the other. She furrows her brows, wondering why he randomly has two fruits. Harry starts juggling them as he casually approaches her while whistling a tune. She smiles wide and slowly shakes her head, wanting to question his weird antics. 

He stops in front of her, still juggling, until the lemon slips from his hand and drops to the ground. He picks it up and waves his hands. "You think I should quit coaching and join the circus?"

"Very impressive," Amaya says, admiring his large hand that effortlessly holds the two fruits. "May I ask why you have an orange and a lemon?" 

He shrugs cutely. "A magician never reveals his secrets." She narrows her eyes at him with a twitch of a smirk pulling at her lips. He's acting strange. "Well, I've got to dip and coach some kids," he adds breezily, tossing the orange up and down. 

"All right, you go do that. Have fun with your... fruit." 

When he brushes past her, he sneakily slips the lemon into the pocket of her romper. She turns around and stares at him in bewilderment, yet he just smiles innocently at her. The short interaction with him felt like a fever dream. 

Amaya stuffs her hand in her pocket and takes the lemon out. Her breath hitches when she looks at it. There's something written on it with a black marker. 

262-437-4584 

Call me. 

- H

She looks up and finds Harry distracted by talking to a coach as they write things on their clipboards. 

She puts the lemon back in her pocket for safekeeping and stands on the sidelines, a giddy feeling swirling around with butterflies in her stomach. 

—— 

When the kids are packing up again, Amaya spots Harry walking over, phone in hand, while typing something. Willow is getting picked up by her mom today since it was an evening session, so she decided earlier to stick around and hang out with Harry. She had already said goodbye to Willow before waiting for Harry on the field as he finished his coaching duties. He gave Willow his signature fist bump and a hug before she left.

Harry shuts his phone off and then jogs the remaining way, placing a gentle arm around Amaya's shoulders. Leaning close, he murmurs, "I was so nervous you'd think that lemon thing was weird, so I apologize for not paying attention to you for the past two hours. I was scared I would look, and you'd be gone." 

She laughs and heads toward the concession stand, thoroughly enjoying the weight of his arm on her. "I have to say, no one has ever given me their number on a lemon before. You get extra points for that." 

"I don't know why I did that. I was waiting for you and Willow to get here, then finally got the balls to make a move. And I didn't have anything to write my number on, so I stole a lemon from the fridge. It's a scientific fact that it's a close substitute for paper." Amaya snorts a laugh and subtly leans into his side as they clumsily walk under the awning. "I made that up," he adds quickly, guiding her to a table. 

"I figured," she replies as she sits next to him. 

The sun is taking its time going down, causing golden hour to be in full swing. Harry takes his jacket off, leaving him in a gray T-shirt, and Amaya feels like she could look at him forever. His tanned skin is glowing from the orange hue of the sky, and his eyes are bright with flecks of gold that look like they were taken from the sun. His lips look more pink and inviting than usual.

Harry reaches into his back pocket and takes out a packet of skittles. "I, uh, put these in the cooler so they wouldn't melt," he mumbles, ripping open the package and shaking some out in her palms. "They're for you." 

She eats a red one first—the best flavor—before saying, "Thank you, Harry. That's very thoughtful." 

He clears his throat and bounces his knee. "So, I know we'll be seeing each other during camp for the rest of the month, but I would really like to see you outside a soccer field filled with kids. We could maybe go bowling or mini-golfing. Something fun, you know?" He shakily runs a hand down his face. "A date is what I'm trying to say. And you can totally reject me. I gave you my phone number on a lemon, so I'd understand." 

Amaya places her hand over his so that it stops fidgeting. "Harry, I'm not going to reject you. I'd love nothing more than to go out together. I really like you." 

He goes still, looks up at her, then exhales sharply, shifting his legs to straddle the picnic table seat. "Yeah? You'd seriously like that? You can pick where we go. I don't care. I just want to hang out with you." 

She nods and flips his hand to intertwine their fingers. Harry nudges his foot against hers under the table with a radiant smile. They end up scooting closer to one another, and Amaya peeks behind her to check if people are lingering, but everyone seems to have left. 

"I haven't gone mini-golfing in ages, so we should do that," she says, staring at the horizon. "I should get home now, though. I have to feed my dog." 

Harry stands and releases her hand. "Mini-golf it is, then. Let me walk you to your car." 

He quickly locks the concession stand and then strides over to Amaya, slinging an arm around her waist. They make it to her car, and she leans against the trunk while reaching up to delicately drape her arms around his neck. However, she feels a weight in her pocket when she lifts them up. She forgot about the lemon.

Taking it out, she smirks at Harry. He shyly rests his forehead on her shoulder and mumbles something incoherent. She moves his head away and asks, "What did you say?" 

He sighs dramatically and lifts his head, poking at the fruit's wrinkly skin that spent hours in the summer heat. "I said I thought it would be romantic, but now I feel stupid. Look, it's starting to shrivel." 

"Harry, it's incredibly sweet. I'll remember this forever." 

"You could dry it out and frame it," he says with a breathy giggle. 

Amaya throws her head back, laughing, her cheeks aching from smiling all day. "Honestly, it's not a bad idea," she says, rubbing a hand across his firm chest. "But seriously, I can't wait to see you for our date—and to see you in something other than athletic wear." 

"Oh, get ready. I'm going to mini-golf in a full suit—perm, eyeliner, the whole shebang." 

"I wouldn't care. You'd annoyingly pull it off." 

Harry becomes silent before inhaling deeply and stepping closer to her. She places her hands around his neck again. "Drive safe." His hands squeeze her waist. "We'll talk on Monday about our date, yeah?" 

"Absolutely." She stares at his lips, and he instantly wets their plush skin. "Can I kiss you? Please?" 

"Please," he whispers. 

Amaya meets his warm lips, kissing his bottom one with pure infatuation. She feels the slight scruff on his cupid's bow, liking how it scratches against her flushed skin. Harry kisses her back as he presses her closer to his body. His tongue parts her lips and strokes hers with his, getting lost in the heat of the moment like two students trying not to get caught by the principal. 

Harry kisses her neck, starting with small pecks and then moving to slow, open-mouthed kisses, nipping softly every so often. Amaya leans her head back, tangling her fingers at the nape of his neck and playing with the knot of his bandana. He moves back to her lips and kisses her, making her quietly whine because she wants more, but she realizes they're in a public parking lot, and she needs to get home. They have all the time in the world to do this on their date. 

Resting her cheek on his collarbone, she regretfully says, "I have to go. I'll see you Monday, okay?" 

"That's too long," Harry says with a pout. 

"It's only three days away." 

"I know. Hey, can you wear these again on Monday?" he asks, fiddling with the daisy clips in her hair. 

She takes one out and clips it in his hair. "Yes, anything for you." He lifts her off the ground, and she squeals. "I'm leaving now. Behave." 

"Yes, ma'am," he says, setting her down and stepping back before another make-out session ensues. 

Amaya opens her car door and slides in. Harry taps the top of her minivan twice before kissing her cheek softly. "I'll miss you, Amaya," he murmurs against her skin. 

She shivers at his raspy voice and kisses his dimple. "Bye. I'll miss you, too." 

She shuts the door and starts the engine, rolling her window down and watching him walk backward to his convertible that's a couple spaces away. She notices he's a terrible parker. 

"Nice park job, dude," she says while pointing out his car, which has its front right wheel over the white line. 

Harry glances over his shoulder to survey his parking. He's still walking backward with his hands in his pockets, his brows furrowed. He trips over his own two feet and stumbles slightly before regaining balance. He looks up at her as she starts laughing at him, and he jokingly flips her off while turning around to get in his car. 

He jumps over the door like a charming idiot. 

Amaya can't wait to see him again. 

Before he can leave, she spontaneously decides to return his romantic lemon gesture. She takes it out of her pocket and grabs a black marker she keeps in her center console, which is full of random junk. She writes her number on the other side, which is luckily not too shriveled, and then adds a heart next to it. 

She honks the steering wheel's horn as Harry puts on his seatbelt, and he jolts and gives her the middle finger again. She claps her hands twice and opens her palms, motioning for him to mimic her. He does so with a confused expression on his face. Blowing on the lemon so the marker dries, she holds it up. His brows dip even more, but she gets ready to throw it. His hands are in a baseball umpire position as she throws the lemon over to his car, and he reaches forward and catches it with one hand, looking at it with a perplexed frown. 

He rolls it around in his hand and then finally sees her number. He slowly smirks and glances up at her. 

She waves at him before reversing out of the parking space. She watches him from outside the window and sees him peck his lips on the lemon. 

Slowing down her car, Amaya calls out, "Text me tonight! Drive home safe and stop parking like an asshole!" 

Harry smiles infectiously while biting his lip, his teeth peeking out. "We can video call if you're comfortable!" he calls back. "I'll miss your face as soon as you leave!" 

She rolls her eyes at his cheesiness. "By the way," she adds with her foot on the brake, "what did you whisper to Willow yesterday at the concession stand?" 

Harry tilts his head and smiles as he remembers. "I said her aunt is a beautiful woman." He rolls the lemon around in his palm. "And that I really like her." 

Blood rushes to Amaya's face as she stares at him in awe. She waves goodbye one last time before driving away, and as she adjusts her romper, she feels something in her pocket. She reaches in and pulls out a bag of orange slices that Harry must have slipped in there while they were kissing. 

On the bag is written: 

For Amaya, the one I desire. 

(Pretend that rhymes.) 

- H 

She squeals happily like a middle school girl who just found out her crush likes her back, then takes an orange slice out and bites into it. 

She lets Harry's sugary sweetness take over her senses the entire way home. 

——

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Mainly asking for wine with this one, but if you're able to do the other 9 skellies I wouldn't complain

Some random girl goes up to him and starts talking to him like she knows him, but at the same time shas sneakily looking at this one random guy. Apparently, some random guy was following her, and made her feel unsafe, so they thought talking to someone would eventually scare him off.

After the man leaves, the woman apologizes and even offers a bit of money for his help.

Undertale Sans - He plays along, he's really good at pretending he knows people for a long time. He patiently waits with her until the guy leaves, then asks if she wants him to bring her home. He refuses the money, that's just normal. He just wants to make sure you're safe.

Undertale Papyrus - He's confused at first but quickly understands the situation and says that he wondered where you are before you two start to walk away. He makes sure the man is gone before relaxing a little. He refuses the money as well. He's glad he could help. Let him pay you an ice cream instead so you can get over this overwhelming experience.

Underswap Sans - He plays along and refuses the money as well. However, once he is sure you're safe and on your way home, he starts to track the guy down to let him know his thoughts about this. You think you can harass people in the street? Too bad he's a police officer and a witness. The guy is screwed.

Underswap Papyrus - He looks very uncomfortable and nervous, wondering what she wants. It's even worse when he notices the menacing guy following you. He plays along out of stress, doing his best to not pass out on the floor as a defense mechanism. He's glad when both of you are gone lol. He also takes the money because he doesn't know how to say no, even if he feels guilty about this.

Underfell Sans - He plays along a little too well and instead of talking with you, goes to confront the guy. "the hell you're doing to my girlfriend? ya're following her like a creep. get the hell out of here before i smash your face like a basketball". The man hesitates, but obeys after he growls at him. See, that's how you do it. He doesn't take the money and assures the lady he won't bother them again.

Underfell Papyrus - He puts a protective hand on your shoulder and lets out a low growl towards the guy. Edge's appearance is dissuasive enough for the guy to think twice and run away. Edge refuses the money and tells them to buy pepper spray to teach these idiots their lesson. He's glad he could help.

Horrortale Sans - His slow brain is struggling to understand what's going on. He's just blinking at the lady, so confused, and becomes even more confused when she suddenly thanks him and gives him money. He takes it, not able to say anything, and watches you go. ???? What just happened? Oh well. Time to go home.

Horrortale Papyrus - He doesn't like looking scary, but he can make an exception once in a while. He turns towards the guy and smiles creepily at him until he gets spooked and leaves. Willow refuses the money and offers his help to help you get home safely. He's happy he could help someone tonight.

Swapfell Sans - He smiles at the lady, then invites them to step aside. He then goes to the man, knocks him over by the knees, and puts a bone on his jugular. "IF I TAKE YOU HARASSING YOUNG LADIES AGAIN, KNOW THAT IT TOOK ME LESS THAN FIVE SECONDS TO PUT YOU ON THE GROUND. NOW RUN." The man executes, screaming he's crazy. The lesson had been learned though. He apologizes to the lady next because she didn't need to witness that and proposes to go home or to the nearest bus station with her.

Swapfell Papyrus - He goes to the man and starts to flirt shamelessly with a lot of dullness, making him more and more uncomfortable. What, you don't like that? Then why are you doing it to a woman? Rus won't stop before the guy apologizes or runs away. He's patient, he doesn't care. He takes the money but invites the girl to McDonalds because what's more comforting than that.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He scares the man away, but then he lectures you about your lack of ability to kick bullies in the nuts. You know that would have saved you a long time ago, right? He can teach you. Try on him. He has iron nuts. You thank him and decide to leave. You just want to go home at this point.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - Uh. When he sees the scary man, he instinctively teleports home with you, before brutally realizing he just kidnapped you. Uh... Well, that's awkward. He's going to leave now, bye. He locks himself in his closet and lets you there. Good luck with that. He's not brave enough for this.

[thatdyingacewhoneedstheirspace]

Liam Rosier

Name: Liam Rosier Age during story: late teens to early 20s Significant other: Maximus Lupin Soulmark: a book with a question mark on his hand Hogwarts house: Hufflepuff Parents: Barty Crouch Jr and Evan Rosier Birthdate: February 13th 2000 Siblings: Luke Rosier (twin) Cousins: Rosemary Evans, Willow Evans, and Luna Rosier-Evans Aunts and Uncles: Lily Evans, Mary McDonald, and Pandora Rosier pronouns: He\him Special abilities: he can sense dark magic, cursed objects, and potentially dangerous potions, only with him he isnt repelled from them he's drawn closer

[lightleckrereins]

The end of an era: Six cruise productions have officially closed

13 productions (plus two cancelled ones), four and a half years and 103 queens later. A chaotic but iconic era in six history is over.

Candace Furbert, Hazel Karooma-Brooker, Caitlin Tipping, Sophie Golden, Alicia Corrales, Viquichele Cross, Natalie Pilkington, Bryony Duncan, Lori McLare, Jasmine Jia Yung Shen, Kelly Sweeney, Amy Bridges, Jessica Niles, Georgia Carr, Amelia Walker, Liv Alexander, Elizabeth Walker, Jade Marvin, Lucy Aiston, Gabriella Stylianou, Scarlet Gabriel, Rebecca Wickes, Megan Leung, Abbi Hodgson, Sophie-Rose Middleton, Artemis Chrisoulakis, Ellie Sharpe, Melinda Porto, L'Oréal Roaché, Wesley Carpenter, Maya Christian, Brianna Brito Mooney, Meghan Dawson, Marilyn Caserta, Ashlee Waldbauer, Lauren Irving, Danielle Mendoza, Shelby Griswold, Kennedy Monica Carstens, Abigail Sparrow, Jarynn Whitney, Madeline Fansler, Channing Weir, Gabbi Mack, Casey Esbin, Ellie Wyman, Sasha Renae Brown, Nicole Lamb, Aja Simone Baitey, Willow Dougherty, Kayla McSorley, Jessie Bodner, Jasmine Hackett, Janice Rijssel, Lucia Valentino, Elena Breschi, Princess Sasha Victomé, Rae Davenport, Gianna Grosso, Kathryn Kilger, Reca Oakley, Jillian Worthing, Bethany McDonald, Sunayna Smith, Hannah Taylor, Sarah McFarlane, Eden Holmes, Fiorella Bamba, Lucinda Wilson, Haley Izurieta, Caitlyn De Kuyper, Amanda Simone Lee, Gabriella Boumford, Meghan Corbett, Analise Rios, Ruby Gibbs, Cydney Clark, Caroline Siegrist, Eloise Lord, Deirdre Duncan, Audrey Fisher, Lorren Santo-Quinn, Billie Kerr Amelia Atherton, Giulia Marolda, Izzy Formby-Jackson, Laura Blair, Maddison Firth, Emily Harrigan, Kara-Ami McCreanor, Sadie Hurst, Adrianna Glover, Alizé Ke'Aloha Cruz, Kristina Walz, Chelsea Lorraine Wargo, Emily Rose Lyons, Meg Dixon-Brasil, Lois Ellise, Jasmine Smith, Jaelle Laguerre, Kate Zulauf, Brooke Aneece, Hannah Lawton

Plus Gabrielle Davina Smith, Melissa Ford, Kaylah Attard, Fia Houston- Hamilton, Rhiannon Bacchus and Rhiannon Doyle who were set to join Breakaway before lockdown.