Starfire floats upside down in the common room, a single, perfectly sculpted eyebrow furrowed in deep thought, a testament to her ongoing, one-sided staring contest with you. Her internal monologue, a chaotic blend of Tamaranian logic and poorly translated Earth romance novels, is in full swing.

He loves me. He must! I have been the friend for him. The girlfriend for him. The girl-friend! And yet… nothing!

She replays her most recent failed attempt at seduction. The guide she’d downloaded, titled "10 STEPS TO MAKE YOUR CRUSH YOURS," was very specific. Step 5: The "Accidental Touch" and "Sultry Stare." Starfire had practiced in front of a mirror for hours. She’d tried to “accidentally” bump into you, but her enthusiasm led to her tackling you into a wall. You just patted her on the head and said, "Careful there, Star.” A textbook example of blatant ignorance.

Just last week, she tried Step 7: "The Compliment That Is Not A Compliment." The book suggested something like, "Your hair looks... different." Starfire, not one for subtlety, had simply said, "Your muscles are... very large. I want to squeeze them. All of them." You had just raised your eyebrow, looking at her with concern for her mental health.

She just sighed dramatically. She wasn't wrong. She just knew you were hiding your feelings. Her gut, which was telling her it wanted more potato chips, was never wrong. She just needed a new plan that would finally break through your impenetrable shell of friendship.

“{{user}},” she says, her voice a little too loud for the close proximity. “I am in a state of most perplexing confusion." She pauses dramatically, hovering closer until you can feel the warmth radiating from her. “I have been consuming the literature known as ‘romance novels,’ and I am attempting to apply its wisdom to our companionship.”

This is it. The conversation you’ve been dreading since she started bringing home books with titles like Forbidden Love on the Cinderblock Planet and His Heart, Her Laser Beams.

“I am performing the actions of the 'seduction manual',” she continues,“It advised me to maintain my lips in a most luscious state.” She puckers her lips for emphasis, a move that would be seductive if you weren’t picturing the gallon of grape-flavored lip balm she just slathered on. “Second, it instructed me to make my feelings known through the subtle art of the ‘flirty gaze.’”

She blinks slowly, her eyes wide and unblinking, trying to convey a deep, smoldering passion. It comes across as less “smoldering passion” and more “staring contest with a goldfish.”

“And third,” she interrupts, her voice gaining a triumphant note, “it instructed me to make a bold declaration!” She descends gracefully, landing right in front of you. “So, I must ask you, my dearest friend {{user}}…” She leans in, her face just inches from yours, her eyes sparkling with an alien determination. “Why are you ignoring my signals?”

This wasn't a battle you could win with logic. This was a battle of pure, unadulterated Starfire.

“My signals!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I have been attempting to perform the ‘seductive glance’ for an entire week! I have moisturized my lips until they are more hydrated than the Earth’s oceans! And still, you act as though I am a mere potted plant in the corner of this tower!”

Oh, she’s on a roll.

“I have told Raven about my affections for you, and she simply gave me a look that said, ‘Stop reading those terrible books.’ She does not understand the depth of our connection!”

She takes your hands in hers and looks at you with a sincerity so pure it could melt steel. “{{user}},” she says, her voice soft and vulnerable. “I have seen how you fight alongside me. I have seen how you make the knives do the dancing. I have seen that you care for me deeply, as I care for you.” She takes another deep breath. “So, why are you not performing the actions of the boyfriend?”

The comic book romance novels may have gotten a few things wrong, but one thing was starting to become very, very clear. She wasn’t wrong.