My Ao3:

My ao3:

Btw, all fics are currently only visible if you’re logged in, but feel free to request that I post any on tumblr if you prefer reading it here :)

Every now and then I see hashtag discourse about supporting kids who are black sheep in their communities. Occasionally, these posts will also mention atheist kids, and OP will get dragged across the coals because atheists are not an oppressed group.

Which is easy to say if you don’t live in a fundamentalist community or come from a religious family. Not all atheists or agnostics are Richard Dawkins, “euphoric”, and militantly hostile towards other people’s religious beliefs. I’m originally from a small, rural town in Mike Pence’s home state, where local churches often exercise a cultish level of influence over the community. I was fortunate enough to grow up in a left-leaning household with agnostic parents who embraced multiculturalism, so I only had to worry about religious abuse outside of the home. Almost all the bullying I experienced at school was because everyone knew I didn’t go to church… kids mocked me, called me names, and kicked me around a bit, while public school teachers told me I was going to Hell. On my first day of kindergarten, my teacher had us raise our hands if we went to church. As the only child who didn’t raise his hand, she interrogated me and then informed me that I needed to find Jesus. I had classmates tell me that they weren’t allowed to be friends with me because I wasn’t Christian and their parents were afraid I’d infect them with my sinfulness.

So, here’s to anyone who grew up in suffocating religious environments, at home or in your larger community. Spiritual abuse is real, regardless of your background, and if your beliefs, behaviors, or identity have made you a target of it, I’m sorry. Just try not to let your experiences poison your tolerance of the healthy religious beliefs of others.

I'm starting to find evidence on twitter of antis encouraging each other to shun friends and family for not being one of them and I am deeply concerned. This is some cult shit.

"should I shun my friend for being proship even though they're my only irl friend?"

"Should I shun my mother for being proship?"

The answer to both of these is GET HELP. You are being brainwashed into thinking that your friends and family are dangerous when you know that they wouldn't hurt anyone. See a therapist, take some time off the internet, reevaluate your situation. Fiction does not take precedence over your loved ones.

I'm tagging this with "antis please interact" because I think they need to see this too, and hopefully it helps someone. Your loved ones are not dangerous because of their taste in fiction.

The link is only for registered users as an act of malicious discrimination against artificial intelligence. I’ll keep putting it on tumblr tho for any real human people who just don’t have ao3

Chapter 1 (Date): Darius helps Hunter sort out his feelings and plan a perfect date with Willow

Hunter was a fantastic researcher. He found out all kinds of stuff about wild magic (which was banned-banned. Like illegal with a sentence of petrification banned) while under Belo’s direct supervision.

And yet, he could not figure out for the life of him what on the titan’s sweet isles was going on with him when he was around Willow.

Finally, he decided he needed to bring in some assistance. Darius seemed trustworthy enough. Someone who wouldn’t snitch on him if for some reason whatever was wrong with him wasn’t allowed.

To be fair, Darius hadn’t snitched (at least to Willow, he definitely called up his catts/ratts friends to share what was apparently incredible gossip amongst legal guardians). He did tease Hunter mercilessly, though, which was so embarrassing that Hunter almost wished he could be petrified instead.

That said, he did at least get his answer. Once Darius had finished exploiting Hunter’s naïveté to ask a bunch of questions that Hunter hadn’t realized were even embarrassing until after the fact, he was informed that he was “down bad” and “head over heels” with a “crush.”

Hunter was vaguely aware of the concept of romantic feelings and relationships, but he didn’t know anything about the specifics.

So, he dove into his research.

Without even getting into how difficult it was to read about this stuff and not accidentally waste the day away daydreaming about how it all related to Willow, it was a tedious process. It seemed sources helping teens figure out what their feelings meant were kept under lock and key even more than wild magic or any other illicit reading material from his golden guard days.

All Hunter really was able to gather for sure was that sometimes people who like-like each other go on dates. Which are like hanging out but different somehow.

And then they could somehow bond to each other??? He wasn’t exactly sure what made a girlfriend different from any other friend who was a girl, but it was apparently special and he couldn’t help longing for it.

And then there was stuff they could do together. Stuff that made Hunter blush just to think about.

Hunter had already held Willow’s hand before (it was life changing. The nerves in his hand had gone haywire but in a way that somehow felt good).

There was more stuff than just hand holding that one could do with a girlfriend, though, according to his research. Stuff that you had to be bonded in a “couple” to be allowed to do.

Hunter had seen people kiss before. He knew it existed. He just honestly… never really got it. It seemed a little gross, but honestly he hadn’t given it much thought.

Until now. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t quite get the mechanics of it, but that didn’t stop him from daydreaming about it constantly.

Hunter was practically drooling over the idea of having Willow so close to him. Touching him. He would probably combust, but what a way to go.

How he understood it was that he had to somehow arrange this special hangout-but-different in order to be allowed to kiss her (KISS HER??? WILLOW??? OMT OMT HE CANT DO THAT HES FLYING WAY TOO CLOSE TO THE SUN but imagine Willow sitting sosososo close to him, her gentle lips and soft skin and strong grip STRONG MUSCLES SHJBDTDJDD she’s so pretty and cute and ahhhhhhhh Hunter’s so out of his depth here)

He hung out with Willow all the time, though, and none of the books gave straightforward instructions on how to initiate this second, elevated type of interaction.

So he went back to Darius, this time for help constructing the perfect date.

Darius was unreasonably thrilled to be asked.

Apparently they were meant to do something Willow would enjoy, preferably in a place where they were somewhat alone, and it was meant to be “romantic.”

1v1 flyer derby evidently didn’t count as adequately romantic.

But flying itself wasn’t completely out of the question…

Hunter was pretty familiar with the natural features of the Boiling Isles. Maybe Willow would appreciate flitting around collecting various rare and remote plants?

Darius thought it was the perfect idea. However, he insisted that he would under no circumstances be allowing “two hormone addled teenagers to be unsupervised together that far off the grid.”

Hunter tried to explain that he’d been to these places alone before and managed to escape death. And Willow was like the strongest witch ever, she could handle anything the isles could throw at her!

Darius would not hear it, and said that the two would be chaperoned by his tiny abomination, and that was final.

The next order of business would be determining what Hunter would wear. Darius insisted upon being allowed to make Hunter a brand new outfit, promising that it would make his little plant witch swoon.

Hunter was overwhelmed by the gesture. He’d never had a handmade ensemble tailored specifically for him, and it felt like too much. Darius, however, seemed very into it, and truthfully like he wasn’t going to budge regardless of how much Hunter insisted it wasn’t necessary.

“Oh, you’re going to be so handsome for your first date, my little prince! I can hardly believe how far you’ve come.”

The clothes planning portion ended with tears and hugs from all involved parties. Hunter had never had his cheeks squished so much in his life.

For the final step of the planning process, apparently it was considered good etiquette to bring a gift for your date.

Since the weather was subject to be unpredictable with how many different climates they’d be visiting, Hunter decided that he would make Willow some warm layers with a personalized touch. He’d accidentally been collecting Willow related patches for months now. He’d be shopping, see something that reminded him of her, and black out until the next thing he knew he’d already completed the purchase.

He was happily dreaming about how to accessorize a green scarf just right so she would absolutely love it, when Darius burst his bubble again.

“So how are you going to ask her?”

Truthfully, the fact that he HAD to ask her had slipped his mind. And now that he thought about it, it felt so unfathomably nerve racking.

“Um-“ was all he could get out before he became too flustered to speak.

“You have nothing to worry about, this girl’s clearly infatuated with you.”

That only made Hunter’s blush warmer and his thoughts mushier.

Darius tried to regain his attention, but Hunter was too far gone. He’d make real plans after he got all his giggling, blushing daydreaming and romance zooming, and pillow squeezing, squealing, tingly tummy feeling out of his system.

Darius just watched fondly as his ward acted every bit the silly teen he was meant to be. He couldn’t wait to tell the catts about this.

My contribution to Huntlow Week

I know the American healthcare system is already a joke but this is to funny