#1 white bloomer

[remodelling]

i need to stop bringing home free bread from work i have 3 fruit loaves in my freezer. i have 6 different loaves of bread in there i think actually

[c0rpsedemon]

one thing i'm trying to keep in mind while designing the cast of the resurrectionists is that they're all constantly changing clothes + ideally there will be ppl cosplaying these characters someday and i'd much rather see morana cosplays done in old btssb pieces that technically aren't things she wears than morana cosplays in cheap mass-produced versions of her canon outfits from aliexpress so i'm trying to make them all recognizable by a defining feature or two + fashion (sub)style alone

[risuola]

ENTRY #1 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I lay my dreams upon your feet, please be careful taking your steps.

contents: arranged marriage!au, angst-ish, slight age gap (reader's around 22, Satoru is 28), loveless marriage, brief mentions of blood and toxicity — wc. 1975

a/n: starting a new series while two other are hanging in the air and hundreds of wips are waiting for being written? yeah, that's me, but hey, I needed to start something new to get my creative juices flowin'. this one's gonna be a series of entries, a diary if you will.

series masterlist

When you were younger, a girl innocent and little, blissfully unaware of the world around you, you wished to marry a prince. Influenced by tales told by your mother and tv shows you watched with big and curious eyes, you had a vision of the ceremony straight out of a dream. A magical display of love and the path of rose petals and feathers through which you were meant to stride in a dress made of satin and lace – white and elegant. You also saw him, the man that your heart would choose and desire. A prince handsome and kind, who would love and protect you even if by doing so, his life would be on the line. You were too little to be aware of the naivety of the dreamy pictures in your head.

Sometimes you wished to turn back time and once again step into the shoes of the innocent you who never got to know sadness and fear. Sometimes you think of it with a bittersweet smile, reminiscing the way you used to go about your days without care about the world around. With mild regret you reminiscence the moment you learned that everything around you was–

“I’m talking to you. God damn it, are you deaf?”

“I heard you.”

–a lie.

You were a late bloomer but besides the judgmental looks you were receiving left and right from the elders of your clan, you also owe it the beauty of your prolonged childhood. Few years of freedom that you lost the memory of how it tasted and yet, you like to go back to it and drown in the pictures it left in your mind. Whilst all of your siblings were training and learning, fighting and risking their lives against the cursed spirits, you brought shame to your family. There was no place for someone without a cursed technique in a world of sorcery and you were made painfully aware of it at the day of your tenth birthday. That was also the end of your childhood and the day you wish to forget. You remember how the smiles of your parents turned into frowns and the soft, melodic tone of your mother became harsh and never got back to how it used to be. The tales and cookies vanished and what was left was nothing but suffering and degradation.

“Oh, did you?”

It took you six years of training to awaken the technique that later on was called the most powerful in the history of your clan. Six years of days and nights filled with sweat and tears, six years of bloody knuckles and bruises but also, it took six years of your determination to prove all of them wrong. Despite being the youngest of four siblings, you were able to stand against the worst of curses with nothing but a sword and raw power when everyone else relied heavily on the cursed techniques. You were strong and skilled, you were trained and fearless but still, you were looked down. A shame. To your family you were nothing but a shame.

And then, suddenly, you became a pride. You were on everyone’s mouths; you were talked about as if you were the most expensive and rare diamond. Years of harsh treatment you received suddenly became forgotten because once your technique awakened, you became the strongest in your clan, surpassing your siblings, your parents and everyone else who bore the same name as you. Suddenly other clans were talking about you too, with curiosity and fear. Suddenly, you became someone. But somehow, it didn’t make you happy. Once you realized that the world you were born into wasn’t a tale you always thought it is, you lost the ability to enjoy it. Maybe the pain of what you had given to become a true sorcerer rendered you unable to fully appreciate the adulthood, but you found it hard to see the light, when the darkness seemed to embed itself into your soul.

“You know what? Fuck that. I’m leaving.”

Ah yes, the marriage. With years that had passed since you were young and naïve, you stripped yourself of the dreams of sharing a life with a prince, but a part of you still hoped for love and calm. A part of your heart wished to settle with someone you��ll trust and care for. Someone who will ground you in the world of constant danger and for years you thought that you will find a man with whom the stressful life of sorcery will be a little kinder, a little less scary, a little more bearable. It was a child in you, a faint spark of juvenile carelessness that never died down, even in the darkest of days you endured.

You let out a deep sigh and allowed your lids to close. Your head leaned forward, forehead restless against the cold doors of the kitchen cabinet. The loud thud of doors snapping shut echoed in your ears for few moments and then it became silent. An earie cacophony of nothing but your own breath and soft ticking of the clock on the wall next to you. For a moment you thought about how many times you relived this very same situation already. The cold detachment, harsh exchange of words and then he’s gone. A salve of ruthless stabs that never seem to hurt less and the sound of your own voice forming sentences you wouldn’t think of if the circumstances were different.

First time you saw Satoru Gojo was many years before you truly knew who he is. It was a picture that you noticed by accident, somewhere in the papers your parents had spread out on the coffee table. He was a young boy back then. You remember the impression he made on you. He looked cold, intimidating, unapproachable. He looked like someone you’d never think of becoming friends with. You were young, just barely nine years old and he was already fifteen. He was already the strongest and even though you weren’t actively involved in the world of sorcery, you knew his name.

And then, many years later you sat in front of him. While the elders of your clans discussed the importance of the arrangement that was planned within the sorcerer’s society, Satoru was resting on a couch unamused, with his legs crossed and eyes covered by a layer of white bandages. You watched him, analyzed his lack of interest and the veil of cold arrogance with realization that everything you wished for was never on the table for you. During the two long hours of conversations that were about you and yet no one asked for your opinion, you and Satoru didn’t exchange one word.

You heard his voice actively directed at you for the first time during the wedding ceremony. It was small, very private and filled with people that you mostly didn’t know. It was far from perfect, though pretty in a way. Under the cautious watch of the most important figures of sorcery, you said the vows that made you feel nothing and yet meant so much. The words of promise, that for anyone else meant love and safe future, to you meant status and the name. You became Gojo. You became a wife to the strongest man in the world.

Now it’s seven months after the wedding and the day you and him moved together. The apartment you shared was filled with both yours and his belongings and yet it didn’t feel like home. It lacked the atmosphere of love and understanding and on days like this, you were losing hope it will ever feel different than miserable.

That day was nothing out of ordinary when it came to your marriage. Yet another fight, yet another beeline he made to leave you alone in the empty house. You always argue. There was no warmth between the walls of the apartment, there was no care and respect. Instead, there were snaps and insults, there was silence and avoidance. The large bed in what was meant to be a shared bedroom was occupied only by you, while Satoru preferred to sleep on a couch even though his tall frame was way too big for it. Besides one very brief and formal kiss you shared during the wedding day, you never kissed again. There was no holding hands, no incidental touches, no nothing that would convey any sort of feeling and only times your bodies made contact was when he grabbed your wrists in anger or when your shoulder hit his arm while you were passing by.

Truth is, you had no idea what Satoru was talking about that morning before he left. You were lost in thoughts, but you could only imagine he was mentioning the meeting he needed to attempt in the evening. He probably won’t be home until late and once he’ll come back, he’ll be annoyed by elders and for that, you couldn’t blame him. Whenever you face the elders of jujutsu community, your blood pressure raises as well and you’re quite calm by nature. That being said, if unlucky, you’ll be the one to take the hit of his anger.

Your fingers run across the golden band that adorned your finger. It was an absentminded motion that became a habit of sorts, helping you gather the thoughts, calming your mind. The cold feel of metal allowed you to let go of the stress and forced you to suck it up yet again.

Two hours after the morning fight, you found yourself surrounded by the familiar buildings in the Jujutsu tech area, watching your husband from afar. Satoru was in the middle of teaching students, if whatever the hell he was doing could be called teaching. Megumi was resting next to him as some other kids were fighting on the training field. The sound of wooden swords colliding echoed between the woods that surrounded the expanse of the school zones. Gojo was looking as careless as ever, calm and smiling – a sight that you almost never see unless he’s facing someone else. He was chatting with his almost-son, shouting some advice to the sparing students and going about his day as he usually does, but one thing was different.

 “Satoru,” you called his name as you went down the stairs to reach the spot where he was standing. He noticed you, you knew that. He most likely knew about your appearance way before you even got to see him, but now he chose to actively ignore your presence as his light blue eyes stayed focused on the field instead of landing on you.

“What brings you here?” He asked and you could tell how the tone of his voice changed from the friendly sensei to your husband’s rough approach. He wasn’t happy with your visit; you weren’t welcome near him and everyone knew that. The fact of your marriage being arranged wasn’t a secret and it also wasn’t a secret that it was Gojo’s clan decision, not his own. Satoru felt some sort of humiliation that despite him being the strongest, he was stripped of a choice who to spend his life with and you, as his wife, were paying for his resentment.

“I brought you this,” you replied, reaching your hand towards him. His eyes landed on your palm and you noticed a ghost of relief that washed over his features when he took the band of black fabric from your hold. His blindfold, that you realized was ripped – he left at home in the morning. That was most likely what he was talking to you about because once you cleaned up after the breakfast, you noticed the band and his broken glasses left on the coffee table.

“So you were listening,” Satoru said quietly and securely covered his eyes.

“I wasn’t.”

[riding-the-sunset-bird]

I was in a Baxter mood today so I went swimming in GB Patch's blog for all the Baxter facts:

General

His personality, at least defined by GB Patch, is that he's sheltered and out-of-touch without being elitist or self-centered. He's preppy/posh, quite sociable, and hates conflict, but likes to go against what's expected of him. He grows out of being such a rich kid trust fund baby by Step 4.

His parents are bigots. He's the unlucky one in a sea of characters with supportive parents.

He has a distant French origin.

His birthday is the day his DLC came out, meaning May 19th.

He's 5'11" (180cm) in Step 4 (this was apparently reconfirmed on the Our Life Discord as well).

His natural hair color - a dark dusty gray that he hates - is uncommon to be born with (as opposed to aged into) in the Our Life universe.

He's right-handed.

Childhood

His dream job as a child was to get into investments, having a strong portfolio with diverse assets (he does not fully know what that means at the time).

He's a late bloomer.

Baxter's crush on Qiu from Our Life 2 is at its peak when he's 12 and 13 (13 being his age in Our Life 2's Step 1), but he's moving on by 14 (when he can potentially meet the MC in Soiree).

He met Qiu at their local dance hall (as they both took lessons there, just in different forms of dance) and also met Ren/Renee (Darren in Our Life 2's Step 1) through Qiu, as the two had known each other since they were very young.

He wasn't thrown off by his crush on Qiu despite Qiu being a boy, as Qiu was popular and it seemed "unfair" to Baxter not to be able to like him. He puts more thought into it as he grows older and what it means, deciding that he'll feel however he'll feel and not worry about what's expected of him. In Soiree, the MC can notice this if they're male or non-binary, as Baxter isn't bothered by dancing with someone who isn't female.

Abilities (or Lack Thereof)

He's a weak swimmer. He can swim fine in pools but would probably struggle in the ocean.

He can sing.

He's experienced in multiple types of dance (though his favorite is the waltz).

Step 3 Baxter is a lazy, bad cook who doesn't even want to bother with cooking, but Step 4 Baxter takes an interest in trying more fancy/restaurant-style food and is able to do so.

Likes/Dislikes

He likes things being clean, but isn't always motivated enough to maintain that.

He liked video games when he was a kid, leaning towards action/adventure ones, though doesn't anymore in his late teens and beyond. He would play life-based games (such as the Sims series) with the MC if asked, however, either playing innocent like he didn't know what he was doing while messing around with the characters or being blatantly obvious about it.

He doesn't like dancing in clubs/discos. He would try it once because he enjoys trying different types of dance, but would only go regularly if he had a friend/partner who liked going to such places.

He would absolutely approve of an MC who chooses to only wear black and white.

Romantic Inclinations

Beyond his crush on Qiu (who he never confessed to), Baxter dates people, but never for long or seriously.

The reason he backs out of asking out the MC if they say that he's their first crush (unless the MC is referring to his Soiree self) is that he feels they have idealized feelings for him and he'd disappoint them. He essentially panics, not wanting to get the MC's hopes up and especially on their very first feelings of romance.

The best way to romance him is to Not Let Him Escape.

In terms of how Baxter will/won't date in the future between Step 3 and 4 if he had a fling with the MC, answers range from him not dating anyone if the player intent was that they were both genuinely in love, but would otherwise to him trying to move on with others but the flings become even more surface level than before to the point where he's simply going through the motions. He ultimately hits a breaking point (whether he dated the MC or not) and ends up improving due to the MC's return in his life and/or support from other people such as Xavier.

When it comes to what he's attracted to in another person, he likes seeing nail polish, false lashes/heavy mascara/naturally long eyelashes, and full suits (especially if they're expertly tailored).

His love language in terms of receiving is Quality Time, but in terms of giving, he will happily adapt to whatever the MC wants.

Clothing Choices

When it comes to Step 4 Baxter's personal dress code, he's always meeting/formal ready (even when not working) unless he's doing anything athletic, in which case the button-downs get a break.

- Likewise, his closet is basically all button-downs and fancy suits with a few exceptions including clothes suited for the cold.

Assorted

Him skinny-dipping didn't happen in Golden Grove, and the Now & Forever main cast are not his friends by then.

He immediately finds the MC and Cove appealing (not necessarily crushing on them) at the start of Step 3 as "beautiful beach strangers."

He'd be flattered to hear from an MC that they love his laugh/find it charming.

He says "hallelujah" because he's pretentious.

He doesn't know French, but does occasionally drop a French word he knows during Step 3 to "add to his formal flair." His Step 4 self considers it embarrassing in hindsight.

While he started dyeing his hair black at 14, he didn't start adding white into the mix until he was 18. His Step 3 hair was likely something he only had for a year, at which point he changed it up with different attempts at black and white. He switched back to plain black after graduating college, feeling like he had to be "a serious grown up."

During the wedding in Baxter's Step 4, he will have Jude send along a vegan cupcake to the MC if they're vegan.

Semi-revealed during one of his mornings with the MC in Step 4, he has a multi-step daily skincare routine.

His Future

He has no preference over who he'd prefer to be the one to propose to the other in his relationship with the MC.

He would absolutely want to plan his own wedding (whether for or with the MC, depending on whether they want to be involved). He would not want another planner included.

He would forbid his parents from attending his wedding, but invite his childhood friends. Cove, Terry, and Miranda would also go.

He doesn't have a preference when it comes to last names during a wedding. He's just in awe that he's marrying someone at all.

He might consider having facial hair at some point in his life.

When it comes to having kids, he doesn't have any particular age he'd prefer to have them and is more of a "when it feels right" kind of guy. In terms of the number of kids, none is his default but he'd prefer to have two if the MC wants them, as he finds the relationship between the MC and Liz to be lovely and was personally lonely as an only child.

🍋 (below are asks that might be considered risqué - especially going to the posts themselves on some - but I wanted to include them for the sake of having all the information in one place; know that me and my prudish nature pushed through this for the people who want it and I hope you appreciate it! >:o) 🍋

This one definitely goes without saying due to being a love interest in a game where the MC can be she/they/he even down to being intersex, but Baxter is pansexual.

Baxter isn't good at being sexually active beyond being with an MC who wants that. He tries to bond with others but either fails to have his interest reciprocated due to being too forward or backtracks if he senses that someone is actually into him. His relationships are short/inconsistent for that reason.

He would never sleep with the MC during Step 3. He's already planning on leaving and wouldn't risk souring the relationship at any point even if the MC would want it. He wants company more than he wants sex and would not want to be remembered as the guy who slept with the MC and then just left without contacting them again.

Between chests and backsides, Baxter prefers the latter.

Baxter is a top (though is flexible on the matter), is into BDSM, and "kind of" has a sir kink.

[rubyroboticalt]

Minecrafters grab your pickaxes, and catch up on the QBLR QUARTERLY!

what's up guys, you just found the internet's first hellsite smp! what's qblr you ask? well, you see, the explanation is perfectly simple and scientific: my brother you are on qblr. this is the qsmp fan tumblr. some of us made a server. and now, let me learn you a thing about all the events and mishaps that happened on the server this week!

the server opened with players and creatures running around the world trying to survive the first nights on a modded world, to varying degrees of success

as days pass, residents begin to encounter monsters tough enough to warrant better lodging and armor. with these reinforced shelters and better gear, the residents begin to form friendships!

the friends share food, homes, and gear. sounds like communism. are they communist or something? actually, that makes perfect sense what with the minecraft and all.

residents sort themselves into groups mostly by timezone and playstyle. being a server inspired by the qsmp, timezones mean that groups speaking different languages stick together and build together.

the french build a stone circle, form a traveling band, and create an inn providing basic necessities like food and beds.

others make their own homes, and an axolotl pond pops up!

the hispanic folk also have a lovely start, with cozy furnishings and no other reports from this side of the server.

and now, a reading from r/EnglishLivingSpaces. white jacaranda walls. plain spruce floor. circular room, with a 1-wide 2-tall window for each 5-wide edge wall of the circle, two windows total. green bed under the window, facing a log pillar in the center of the room. two stacks of loose papers on the right side of the room. a sign reading "r/malelivingspaces" placed next to the bed. this has been a reading of r/EnglishLivingSpaces.

the server celebrated 4/13 by having a fruity rumpus cult party. festivities included drugs and alcohol introduced by some of the mods installed on the server.

and now, the gubby.

bad boy hooters opened to celebrate all the big booby badboys out there in the wild. i always do appreciate a good use of the expression hooters. and as a safe house from the nightmare stalkers that seem to be thriving on the fear and pain they cause, it gets many a visit.

residents continue to build and decorate, with fun and games in between.

folks play for reasonable amounts of time, with two days played in 5 days of server uptime by one ambitious player.

finally, everyone is building interiors to their houses now, with the dining room being a popular place to take photos.

some late bloomers also complete the exteriors of their -- that's not a house, thats a taqueria.

and the first week on the server closes with absolutely nothing ominous happening.

[beautification-tales]

The Sisters pt. 1

A late Bloomer tale

The sisterhood were sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Stacey in her usual white crop top and tight jeans. She had a scowl on her face as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Becky and Ruby were holding hands and giggling. Becky’s black yoga pants and top exposed her impressive abs that Ruby’s red fingernail free hand was caressing. Stacey rolled her eyes at the display. Becky caressed Ruby’s hosiery covered thigh as they were so close to making out. “Ugh get a room you two!” Stacey exclaimed, causing Ruby to break out into a fit of giggles.

“I know that I’m Bi now but women really do it for me now.” Becky confessed, looking down at Ruby’s body. Ruby leaned in, a hungry look on her face. "Maybe because they always did it for you?” she asked with a sly grin. Stacey rolled her eyes and snorted. "Ugh can we hold off on humping anyone until our fearless leader shows up?” she asked, gesturing to the door.

As if on cue Marsha walked in. The bright orange hair and lips caught the eye of everyone as she walked to her usual spot. She wore the least revealing clothes of the group as she actually dressed casually. Stacy leaned forward as Marsha sat down. “Well? What news from on high?” she asked sarcastically. Marsha looked at the three girls then smiled. “We all meet her tomorrow for the next phase of her plan.” she replied, her voice hushed.

Ruby and Becky squealed with excitement. “Ooh I can’t wait!” Ruby exclaimed. Becky nodded in agreement. Stacey rolled her eyes. She was still annoyed at the restrictions that were placed on her since the incident at Peter’s. “Tonight! Tonight we feast. She said she wanted us at full energy for our meeting.” Marsha announced. Ruby clapped her hands together. "Oh! There is cute Professor that I’ve been meaning to seduce. He should be delicious!” Becky stopped touching Ruby. “Aww so what am I supposed to do?” Becky whined. Stacey snorted. "Well you can always go after one of the TA's. They're always easy meat." she joked.

Marsha

“Or you could get your real revenge… on Traci.” Stacey suggested. Becky’s eyes glowed as she licked her lips and inhaled. “That’s a great idea… thanks Stace.” Stacey stared right at Marsha “Anything for a sister.” There was a moment of silence as Marsha and Stacey glared at each other. “I guess… I’ll just consume a frat… how boring.” Stacey sighed. Ruby giggled.

“No, I talked with our maker and we agreed. We want you at your best Stacey. Peter’s all yours.” Marsha said with a knowing smirk. Stacey gasped as she felt her breasts fill with milk. Stacey’s eyes glowed as she felt her panties soak at the thought of having Peter again. “Oh thank you! Thank you!” Stacey got up and hugged Marsha tight. “Anything for a sister.” They both giggled.

Becky’s Story-

Becky watched as Stacey and Marsha hugged as the tension between them evaporated. Becky didn’t know the full story but apparently Stacey was obsessed with her former bully and Marsha didn’t approve. The girls all said goodbye to each other as Becky walked to her former best friend’s dorm room.

Stacey

Becky felt the butterflies in her stomach as she never confronted or really talked to Traci since she caught her with Bill. They grew up together and shared everything except for boys. The code was clear between them and Traci had broken it.

Becky transformed into her normal body and knocked on Traci’s door. “Go away!” Traci yelled through the door. “It’s me Becky, Trace.” Becky said in her most innocent voice. There was a long pause, then Traci unlocked the door. When she opened it, she was wearing a big sweatshirt and still had tears in her eyes. “I’m sure you came to gloat didn’t you?” Becky was surprised when Traci hugged her and brought her in. “I fucking missed you Becks. I.. I fucked up. I ruined our friendship over a guy and and… he cheated on me. I’m so sorry…. Please I need you. Please forgive me…. You’re all I have now.”

Becky gritted her teeth. She wanted to unleash the rage she had from the betrayal. Traci’s genuine tears touched Becky’s heart. “I don’t know Traci. You were my best friend! I loved you and what you did still hurts. The worst part … is if you just told me. If you said you wanted Bill. I would have broken up with him for us.” Traci’s tears kept flowing as she looked at her best friend. “It wasn’t fair though. All the boys wanted me over you. I wanted you to know how it felt to be wanted.” Traci grabbed Becky’s hand. “I wanted you so see how beautiful you really are. I should have just told you that.”

Ruby

Becky wiped the tears from her own eyes. “Yeah you should have. I met some new friends and the helped me see that.” Becky looked at Traci and laughed. “I actually did come here to gloat and rip you a new one.” Traci wiped her tears and smiled. “I fucking deserve it. Weird thing is the woman that Bill was fucking said ‘Karma’s a bitch’”. Becky gulped remembering she did say that. “She did?” Traci nodded. Becky sighed. She didn't want to see Traci hurt anymore. She wanted her best friend back. But she couldn’t let her know the truth at least not yet.

“Yeah, I took Bill from you and that Amazon bitch took Bill from me.” Traci looked up at Becky. Becky’s lip quivered as she asked for clarification. “Amazon?” Traci nodded. Becky sat down on the bed right next to Traci. “Yeah, I never saw a woman as hot as her. If she wasn’t the bitch that stole my man…. I would totally follow her IG and see how she slayed in a bikini. You … ok Becky?” Traci asked her friend.

Becky’s eyes fluttered as she felt herself get really warm. Traci’s compliments of her succubus form was arousing her. Becky could feel the sexual energy growing inside. It was if her succubus was wanting to transform. “Uhm I’m ok Traci… keep telling your story.” Becky eyes her friend with a hunger she never displayed before.

“Well yeah imagine Meg the Stallion times ten. I know Bill was loving it as he was throbbing. I know this is TMI but even though I was horrified. I felt myself getting wet… because of her.” Becky’s nipples hardened hearing her friend describe her. “She was fucking irresistible wasn’t she?” Becky gasped as she felt her breasts get heavier in her chest.

“Well.. yeah she actually…said something like that. “ Traci pushed away from her friend. “Do… do you know her Becky?” Traci looked at her friend as her eyes had rolled back. Becky inhaled hard trying to control the pleasure and sexual energy tidal wave that was washing over her. “You could say something like that ahhhh!” The dam broke as all of Becky’s succubus energy overwhelmed her as purple flame surrounded her body. Becky’s breasts increased in size as her muffin top evaporated. The unflattering sweats vanished as Becky was now in her true succubus form. Becky caressed her amazing curves as she moaned gleefully as if freed from a prison. Becky opened her eyes and looked at her tight bikini that left little to the imagination.

Becky

Traci stood up in shock. “It was you?!” she asked in disbelief. Becky smiled, her perfect white teeth behind the juicy thick lips. “You really have a way with words Trace. It really brings out the best in a girl… no?” Becky arched her back taking a sexual pose as she played with her long black hair.

Traci’s heart was pounding in her chest. The mixed emotions of fear, surprise and arousal were all present within her. “You fucked Bill? What…what are you?” Traci backed away from Becky as she continued to take poses on the bed.

“Mmmm I’m a succubus baby. I wanted revenge for you both hurting me. So I took it.”

“What do you want now?” Traci asked, her voice quivering with fear and a hint of arousal. Becky stopped posing and began walking to Traci. “You said you wanted me to know how it felt to be beautiful and wanted. Traci… it feels fucking fantastic.” Becky was right in front of Traci, her taller form a head higher now making Traci look up. “You’re here for more revenge aren’t you?” Traci gulped.

“Mmmhmm you see… I’m too fucking sexy to resist.” Becky said as she pulled Traci in for a kiss. Her succubus powers overwhelmed Traci as she found herself melting into the kiss. Her body felt like it was on fire as she pressed herself against Becky. The two women kissed deeply, their tongues dancing together.

As they broke apart, Becky whispered in Traci's ear, "You're gonna love this." She grabbed at Traci’s waist and quickly pulled her sweatshirt off, letting her perfect breasts free. "Oh my god Traci, you're so beautiful." Becky cupped her hands around her friend's breasts, squeezing them gently before taking one nipple into her mouth and sucking on it hungrily. Traci moaned loudly, arching her back as she felt an unfamiliar pleasure course through her veins.

“Oh my God! Becky! Mmm” Traci moaned as she wrapped her hands around her friend's head, feeling the incredible sensations building in her chest. She arched her back, pressing her breasts into Becky's mouth, wanting more of the delicious pleasure.

Becky released her nipple with a pop and moved to Traci's other breast, taking the waiting nipple into her mouth. Traci gasped as she felt a wave of pleasure wash over her, making her limbs weak. She reached down, gripping the hem of her sweatpants, desperate to feel more. She couldn’t understand why this felt so right.

"Oh fuck yeah Traci," Becky moaned, her words vibrating against her skin. "You taste so good." Traci arched her back even further, pressing her chest into Becky's face. Her hips began to move involuntarily, grinding against her friend's thigh. The sensations were overwhelming, both familiar and foreign at the same time.

Becky released her nipples with a pop and moved up to nip at Traci's neck. "You feel so good, Traci. I could do this all night." Traci shuddered, her legs turning to jelly. She reached down, grasping at Becky's hips as she felt her wetness grow between her legs. "Please, Becky. I need..." she trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

"You need me?" Becky asked, her voice low and husky. "You need my cock inside you?" She moved back, her gaze trailing down to Traci's crotch. “Wait.. what cock?” Traci asked confused. Becky grabbed Traci’s back and grinded her hips into Traci’s. Traci gasped as she felt a stiff member against her pelvis. “Succubus powers baby” Becky grinned.

Becky pulled Traci’s bottoms off. Traci felt a rush of cold air against her, and then the warmth of Becky's body as her friend straddled her. She gripped the head of her cock, positioning it at Traci's entrance. Traci felt a sting of pain as Becky pressed inside her, but it was quickly replaced by an intense, burning pleasure. She cried out, her body arching up into the sensation.

Elated to share this moment with her.

She arched her back, her fingernails digging into Becky's shoulders as she felt her own orgasm building, a wave of heat and pleasure starting deep in her core and spreading outward. "Oh god, Becky," she gasped, her hips meeting Becky's with frenzied urgency. "I'm going to..."

Becky's thrusts became faster, harder, as if she was trying to push Traci over the edge. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body shuddering with the effort. "Come for me, baby," she growled, her voice rough and demanding.

Traci felt her orgasm build, tearing through her body like a tidal wave. "Yes!" she cried out, arching her back as her hips bucked wildly against Becky. Her vision blurred, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her.

Becky felt Traci's inner walls grip her cock, squeezing it with unrelenting force. She threw her head back, her body tensing as she felt the familiar tightness building inside her. "Oh fuck," she moaned, her voice ragged and desperate. "I'm coming."

With a final thrust, Becky buried her cock to the hilt inside Traci, their bodies pressed together, their sweat mixing on their skin. She let out a long, shuddering groan as her orgasm overtook her, her hips snapping wildly against Traci's in a frenzy of pleasure. Her vision blurred, her thoughts spinning out of control as the wave of ecstasy crashed over her.

Traci panting laid her chest on Becky’s. “Was that really revenge for you?”

Becky looked down at Traci “No, more like what I always wanted.”

[charlottesuzee]

Monster Trio (Accidentally) Wearing Your Britches (Black!Fem!Reader)

(Slight N S F W but not really, it's just underwear. Only Sanji's is dirty)

Monkey D Luffy

- He doesn't wear underwear anyways, so he pulled them on when he was half asleep, thinking they were his shorts. He didn't even notice how drafty they were.

- Went through the whole morning not noticing. After the crew was finished dying of laughter and shock, they told Luffy that he was wearing your underwear.

- Luffy's only reaction was "Wow, guess I am, huh ?"

- He honestly thinks that they're comfortable. He doesn't care for underwear, but he'll gladly wear them because 1. They're yours and 2. He likes the color and will ask you if he can keep them.

- "Oi, (Y/N), do you think I can keep these ?!?"

- "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT !

- "Aww, but whyyy ? You have more, dontcha ? You won't miss these !"

- "BUT THEY'RE MINES !"

- "You mean ours now."

- "NO !'

Roronoa Zoro

- It was Usopp's turn to do the laundry and he forgot to separate everyone's clothes, so he just figured that everyone would figure out who's was who's and it'll sort itself out.

- While taking a bath after training, a pair of your undies got mixed up with Zoro's but he was too tired to notice and slipped them on after his bath.

- He only noticed when he happened to get a wedgie and went to go pick it out.

- Tried to keep it under wraps but he was blushing so hard, everyone could tell that something was wrong

- Eventually pulled you aside to tell you what was up

- "I uh... Usopp fucked up the laundry and I'm wearing your underpants instead of mines..."

- "Oh..."

- Absolutely refused to let you see him in them, and made you turn around when he pulled them off to give them back to you.

- Will never in a million years admit that he liked it

Blackleg Sanji

- Woke up late to cook breakfast, so in a rush , he slipped on what he could. That included your undies.

- He didn't know how to explain it or what it was, but he felt more attractive, more radiant.

- We all know how Sanji felt when wearing a dress and bloomers on Iva's island, so of course he'd feel the same wearing feminine style undies.

- He didn't notice until late in the day, when he went to the bathroom. He was absolutely mortified when he found out that he was wearing your underwear.

- After the shock wore off, he realized how much he liked it. It made him feel all sorts of things. Sexy, beautiful, pretty, you name it.

- He loved how they felt against his skin, how he looked in them, it actually turned him on a bit and he had to beat one off in the bathroom. It turned him on even more when he slipped them back on after doing such a dirty deed.

- He doesn't tell you about the ordeal and he doesn't give them back, feeling too guilty and flustered about it, even though he wants to explore this side of him with you.

- "Hey Sanji, have you seen a pair of white undies with a bow on the front ? I can't find them anywhere."

- "N-No, I haven't, sorry."

- "Huh, must've got lost in the laundry, they'll turn up soon."

- Meanwhile, he has them on. He so desperately wants you to know but he's not ready yet. Exploring this side of Sanji is a story for another day.

[clockwayswrites]

Specter of Starlight - Part 1

Summary:

Tim meets a specter of a ghost on a roof. He doesn't know that, not at first. At first he just meets a friend. It's only later he becomes very, very scared for him.

Content warning:

While I promise a happy ending, this fic does not start out happy. The start of this fic deals with (mistaken) suicidal ideation. Neither character is, but the assumption is made and there's a lot of internal thoughts about running into someone on a ledge in the middle of the night and how to handle that. Proceed carefully, darlings.

Wc: 666 (coincidentally spooky)

_____

Sometimes a person on a roof was just a person on a roof— someone out to get some fresh air or distance or space. Sometimes a person on a roof was a tragedy waiting to happen. As protectors of the city, the Bats had to learn to tell the difference.

They tried to stop every time that they could, just in case, but when they were in the middle of a chase or attack they had to make a call. They all had choices that haunted them. They could only make the best guess based on what they knew. Obvious apartment complexes, lower buildings, people on the phone or smoking, in the middle of the roof— if they didn’t have the time, those were usually safe to pass on. Tonight it was an office building, several stories high, a person sitting on the edge of the building as silent and still as the stone gargoyle they were next to. Tonight Tim wasn’t going to risk passing by. At least the figure was looking up and not down. Maybe it was okay. Please be okay. Tim landed lightly, almost soundlessly, on the roof. Still, he saw the shoulders of the person stiffen ever so slightly. They had heard him. Tim let the toe of his boot catch purposefully on the aggregate of the roof— let himself be obvious in his presence. He went kept wide. It was far enough away not to be a threat (that was a lie, Tim would always be a threat) but close enough that at this height he would have time to catch the person if they jumped. With ease, Tim hopped up onto the ledge and let his feet dangle out over the open air. For him the height was comforting, an old friend. “What brings you all the way up here?” Don’t ask them if they’re going to jump. Don’t ask them if they’re that far gone. Don’t cement the idea in their mind. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim took in what details he could in dim light. Dark hair— black likely but possibly dark brown. Late teens likely, early twenties if they were a late bloomer. Which was possible. They’re far too lean— lean enough to be pushing into gaunt. Bright blue eyes flicked to look at Tim and then back up to the sky. “Stargazing.” Tim stared up at the cloud cover that was so thick not a bit of starlight sneaked through. They snorted, as if reading Tim’s mind. “Yeah, it’s not being very cooperative.” There’s a subtle drawl to their voice. Midwest accent, Tim’s subconscious supplies, not a Gotham native. Not even someone who’s been here long enough to lose the accent. Just long enough to be up on a roof in the middle of the night. Their voice is almost lost in the night air even though it’s still as death. There’s not a single breeze to snatch their words away, but the voice is still just a little hard to hear. “I don’t think you’re going to be in luck tonight,” Tim replied. “Lady Gotham isn’t known to be accommodating.” They gave a long hum at that, clearly thinking something over. “Guess I’m not really stargazing then.” “So what would you say you’re doing?” Tim tried to keep his voice casual. They gave a little shrug, eyes still glued to the murky sky. “Just… wondering it must be like… to die without getting to see the stars one last time.” Tim jolted towards them instinctively, his hands gripped white knuckled tight on the ledge to avoid reaching out. Don’t do anything that might give them a reason to jump. The stranger glanced at Tim again. A crooked smile graced their lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Tim wants to say he’s not scared. It would be a lie. “I’m not up here to jump, I promise. I very much want to live.” Tim wanted desperately to believe that.

_____

AN: Finally wrote the start of this last night when I couldn't sleep. I gave it a rough polish so here it is! I don't know if I'll post all of it on tumblr, as I think I want to play around with chapter pacing for effect, but have this here at least. (Also I cannot tell you how many times I wrote Tim as TIme.) As always, stay delightful.

@michealawithana | @skulld3mort-1fan | @legowerewolf | @tsukihimeyfan | @bahfev

[doll-princesse]

I made Anne some bloomers using Heirloom Doll Clothes for Götz by Martha Campbell Pullen, Ph. D, using the White Bloomers pattern.

I did alter the pattern by taking out 1/2” in the leg. I was worried they would be too long, but now I see they would’ve been fine as is. These bloomers have a higher back waistline than the front

All in all, it took about 2 or so hours to sew these up. I used an amalgamation of techniques, drawing on this book, my own knowledge, and the Mary Francis School of 1910’s Sewing including:

felled hem for the lace,

hand finishing for the inner leg seams,

increased the casing from 3/4” to 1 1/8” to accommodate the elastic I had on hand,

moved up the leg elastic placement,

stitched on top of the elastic, instead of not catching it (my machine stitch only goes to 3 mm width)

tailored the amount of elastic (from 5”/ 7” w/ 2” seam allowance, down to 4 1/2 with 1/2” seam allowance),

and added my own touch with extra lace trim above the elastic frill.

Anne is still borrowing Addy’s Semi-Historical Camisole Top, but I plan to make her this peplum camisole once I get some more lace trim… plus a petticoat with the same wide joined type lace trim I used for that lace camisole and Addy’s fancy pantalets.

[42-clocks]

💚 a zine on aromanticism 💚

^an informational zine on aromanticism I made for Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week

feel free to share/print!

(pages and image IDs after the break)

Image ID 1: the front and back cover. The front cover reads, “informational zine — Aromantic: What Does That Mean? — by Peter Z.”

there are two simple arrow shapes between lines of the text pointing in opposite directions.

The middle of the page has a long stripe with the colors of the aromantic flag, which extends to the back cover. the back cover side lists what each of the colors represent: green — aromanticism; light green — the aromantic spectrum; white — platonic and aesthetic attraction; gray — gray-romanticism and demi-romanticism; black — the sexuality spectrum.

The back page reads, “more resources!

TAAAP.org

Aro Spec Week.com

gsrc.princeton.edu (SAM)

aromanticism.org (AUREA)

Elizabeth Brake (aromanticism)

Aggressively Aro Spec Tumblr

Aromantic Guide.com”

End text. Two gray silhouettes of lily flowers act as embellishment. End ID 1.

Image ID 2: pages 1 and 2 of the zine.

Page 1: “Aromantic — or just ‘aro’ for short — refers to someone who experiences little to no romantic attraction to anyone — or experiences it in a different way than others. Alloromantic is the opposite — one who does have romantic attraction.” The text is green and dark teal with light green boarders around the sections.

Page 2: small letters says “this might help to understand” and arrow points to the title “Split Attraction Model” — “a way of understanding attraction by separating it into types: sexual, romantic, platonic, alterous, aesthetic, etc.

“Sexual Orientations: bisexual, heterosexual, asexual. Romantic Orientations: biromantic, heteroromantic, aromantic. — sometimes they match, sometimes they don’t! Words like biromantic and heteroromantic commonly refer to both S. O. and R. O.” End ID 2.

Image ID 3: pages 3 and 4.

Page 3: titled “A-spec Community”. Below is a Venn diagram, the left circle labeled “aro”, the right circle “ace”, the overlap space “aro ace”, this is all within a larger circle labeled “a-spec”.

“Aromantic is not the same as Asexual (little to no Sexual Attraction to anyone at all). The identities and communities are related but distinct”

Page 4: titled “Myths” with dark teal flower silhouettes on either side. Myths include “hates all romance, childish “late bloomer”, not LGBTQ+, unemotional, wants to be alone, can’t be in a relationship, afraid of commitment, can’t also be gay/hetero/etc” End ID 3.

Image ID 4: pages 5 and 6.

Page 5: “Are you aro? some common experiences: made up crushes, flirting doesn’t make sense, hard to identify romantic feelings, dating isn’t a priority, don’t like romance heavy media, dating because you’re “supposed to”, rarely if ever “fall in love”, don’t have celebrity crushes. *these are not exclusive to aros though!”

Page 6: the top of the page has the shape of an umbrella, the text inside reads “the Aromantic umbrella”. The body has four microlabel examples;

“Gray-romantic — romantic attraction rarely or weakly.” Next to it is a small rectangular flag with 5 horizontal stripes: green, gray, white, gray, green.

“Demi-romantic — romantic attraction only after a bond has formed.” Rectangular flag with a wide white stripe, narrow green, and wide gray stripe, and a black triangle on the left side.

“Allo-aro — allosexual and aromantic, no romantic attraction, has sexual attraction.” Rectangular flag with even horizontal stripes: green, light green, white, yellow, dark yellow.

“Aro-ace — aromantic and asexual, no romantic or sexual attraction.” Rectangular flag with even stripes: orange, yellow, white, light blue, dark blue. End ID.

[the-scooby-gang]

Character assassination and delayed puberty: VelmaHBO mishandling of Fred Jones

As I write the "I watched Velma HBO so you don't have too" reviews for episode 1 and 2, I decided to post this thought process I had regarding Fred's mischaracterization and, specifically, about the choice of giving him delayed puberty.

In the show, Mindy Kaling's self insert (because that ain't Velma in this or in the next life) comes to the conclusion that Fred is such a "spoiled white privileged brat" that his body didn't see the point of growing up at all.

First of all: Fuck that

Second of all: Whose brilliant idea (we all know who, but lets pretend for a second here) was it to turn FRED JONES: cheerleader; net lover; circus enjoyer; himbo friend; golden retriever sunshine boy and "I love my friends and my van so much you guys" into THIS?!?!

Is it because he is white, blond and has blue eyes???? Because it would be easy to make him into a caricature of white supremacy???

Yes. That's exactly why they changed Fred. Because it was easy.

I will go deeper on this in the full review of episode 1 and 2 (god help me) but this whole show is written in the most lazy way possible with jokes that would have fit perfectly in a edgy early 2000s show, where characters become those straw men versions of liberals conservatives IMAGINE exist.

Where people of color complain all the time about white supremacy but don't go deeper into it, its just complaining for the sake of complaining;

Where they bring genuine arguments people make but with zero nuance or though behind them, instead the writers put what THEY imagine it is about and, 99.9% of the time, they attribute it to people being "tOo sEnSiTiVe" and " tRiGgErEd SnOwFlAkEs"

Where people blow things out of proportion and accuse people left and right of being fascists (when they call Fred "Hitler" the background character says "he looks like Hitler. And I'm not just saying that because we call anyone Hitler nowadays") completely disregarding the WHY people in real life are calling out fascist behavior when they see it. Hello rise of fascism happening on the world, how is the INVASION OF CAPITOL IN AMERICA and THE INVASION AND DEPREDATION OF THE PLANALTO IN BRAZIL going for you?!;

This show is Family Guy. I would say it's worse than Family Guy even.

Third of all: Delayed puberty is an Actual Thing That Happens To People. It's something that can happen at random or it can be a genetic disorder shared in the family. It can be a symptom of something way more serious or something benign.

Many people that suffer from delayed puberty suffer from low self esteem because they have to watch their friends grow and develop when the same thing's not happening to them. They may feel like they're never going to catch up.

People are bullied over this, people develop depression.

And now these people are the punch line of this mean spirited joke.

I can even envision a better show where Fred still has delayed puberty, but instead of being the butt of jokes where people keep commenting on the size of the penis of this HIGH SCHOOLER, they treat as the constitutional delay it is. Fred is a late bloomer. It may be caused by a pattern of growth and development in his family, it may be a chronic illnesses he has. Can you imagine Fred with something like asthma or diabetes?

Lets go with that, lets imagine a Fred with diabetes, who is not receiving a proper treatment for said diabetes (maybe because his parents subscribe to that style of parenting where they are more concerned about appearances than the well being of their kid. "No, he has no problem. He is a perfectly healthy Jones."

Or they are the kind that say shit like this: "He doesn't have blurry vision he is just a lazy student, that's an excuse," or "You would stop going so much to the bathroom to piss if you stoped drinking water all the time" or even "I told you to not stay awake all night on those weird net making websites, now you're tired in class. What kind of mother they must think I am..." "But I didn't stay up all night, I swear–" "Don't you lie to me Frederick") and as such the side effects and symptoms are left unchecked.

So the Fred Velma, and we the audience, are introduced too is the heir of this fortune... who can't stay standing because he is constantly tired, has completely given up on trying to apply himself on school because he can't see the fucking board his vision is so blurry, has passed out at least once in gym, drinks water like he lives in a dessert and is so self conscious about his body that even his girlfriend hasn't seen him shirtless even once. The swim team hasn't seen him shirtless even once, so there are these whiplash inducing photos in the year book where is a bunch of guys in speedos nest to this one dude in an early 20th century striped swimming suit.

In episode 1 itself Velma's vision of Fred can start biased, after all from a distance a person that doesn't know Fred personally can chalk his behavior to "rich dramatic boy that knows he doesn't need to put effort into learning since he already has a fortune guaranteed for him after all this, so he is just sleeping and vibing and being dramatic through high school" but as the episode progresses and she gets to know Fred, she notices that the image doesn't fit. Fred, who has such in depth knowledge about physics and mechanics, who clearly loves his girlfriend very much and feels bad about the murder of this girl he considered a friend. The image of "Rich guy that doesn't care" is not fitting.

I want it to be a Velma and Daphne epiphany. About Daphne talking about all these things Fred has told her or that she noticed about him to Velma as they look for clues and it hits Velma as a she connects all together. The tiredness, the pissing, the thirst, the blurry vision.

Daphne may have not seen it because she is too close but with Velma's outside perspective the pieces fall into place.

Now lets imagine that instead of cop lesbian moms, Daphne could have lesbian doctor/nurse moms. They take him to them and they give him what he desperately needed:

"No, dear. You're not lazy, or broken, or an attention seeker, or any other bullshit your parents called you. You have diabetes. Type 1 to be precise."

After Daphne and Velma hug a crying Fred until he has no more tears to give, the series progresses with Fred now treating his diabetes as one of its recurring plot lines.

I want Daphne to have extra insulin in her purse, I want Shaggy to help Fred with his new diet, I want Fred and Velma to go exercising together and have deep conversations about body image and how they deal with it (Fred with his delayed puberty, Velma with her extra weight)

"Mature" and "Adult" content doesn't need to be edgy sex-violence-and-drugs.

It can be simply a story of a high schooler having to deal with diabetes in a country were insulin is expensive as fuck, some parents are more willing to let their kids suffer than offer any kind of help or even admit that there may be a problem in the first place, of dealing with body image and things that are out of your control.

Just a thought.

This is a post by The-Scooby-Gang, thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[silvergrovezelda]

larutalia reference sheet plus leviathan Zora lore

okay fine I’ll post her here XDD in canon her story takes place like uh….50 years at least after totk/botw and is the champion of vah ruta. But in any other stories she can be added as just a regular Zora or a princess of the Faron domain. Her champion sash in opposite to her green one and it goes under it. Also someone help her walk that leg is crippled

about leviathan Zora:

Leviathan zora in general have much longer tails that can be as short as up to their hips. And as long as 1 and a quarter of their height. They have two sets of scales. The main scales, and the fin scales. The fin scales are often all the same color and apply to all the transparent parts of the zora. Which includes on the head tendril. These fins are much softer and can have fading gradients. 

The head tendril is a very distinct part of the leviathan zora and it begins to grow around at the age of five. The longer it is, the more water manipulation you have. So far the queen is the one with the longest head tendril. If a tendril does not grow by ten years old, it’s possibly due to being a late bloomer or the body having suffered malnourishment or severe long damage at a young age. They will not have any water manipulation if they do not have a tendril. 

Differences between males and females: there are some noticeable traits between them but it’s more of a 50/50 shot to get one or the other, females have more round wavy fins which are transparent.  But the males have more Spikey fins which are more similar to their lanayru cousins. 

Jewelry: due to the amount of luminous stone and ore near their domain and in their cave, they have similar jewelry to the lanayru zora. But often times it is more decorated and unique with each one. And luminous stones are not the only gems for decoration. All gems can be used. Even topaz! Though it may sting after wearing it for a while. 

Relationship with farosh. 

The leviathan zora worship the mysterious dragon as their deity. And after hundereds of generations with the dragon, have developed a stronger resistance to electricity then many of the other zora. The royalty are blessed by the lighting dragon when ascending and have the highest resistance to electricity then perhaps any other zora. They are required to wear a gift from the dragon in their jewelry. Sometimes in their crown, or on their belts and necklaces. 

 Colors 

Leviathan zora come in all colors you can imagine. But their softer skin like scales are always a very light shade of whatever color their fins are or scales are. The most common case is being a cool white. 

Weapons: the leviathan zora are a bit…defensive of their home. And the guards take their job very seriously so you cannot just walk right into their home without a reason and a thorough checking that you won’t do any harm. Their weapons are made of the same steel as the lanayru zora but perhaps with a bit more intimidation. One guy a few years ago stuck a skreel’s skull on his spear so that was fun to put in a museum… 

water manipulation: this ability was very strange and it’s common for leviathan Zora to have it. It can be used to transport water, freeze it, evaporate it, and control it. Some Zora have more control and power than other leviathans. That is due to their head tendril. It’s common for guards to channel their abilities through their weapons with the help of an opal fragment. Freezing and heating water is not a natural ability and requires help of gem fragments such as sapphire or ruby. Even small chunks is enough.

Current royals: king aruhdon, Queen Marella, prince risali, and princess larutalia

:important!!: I am the creator of the leviathan Zora concept. I do not own Zora as a whole but please respect that I created the lore and subspecies that is leviathan Zora. Just don’t steal my lore for your own species plz. You may make a leviathan Zora but just credit me as the creator of the species

[g0ldgauntlet]

Webtoon Readers Are Very Harsh on Black and Brown Female Leads.

I've had this thought for a while, and I'm likely not the first to voice it, but I do want to talk about it. It's certainly not a coincidence to me after seeing it happen multiple times. For you to understand my frustrations, I'm going to focus on comparing the female leads from 3 comics: Let's Play, Late Bloomer, and Brimstone and Roses.

(Quick Warning: Let's Play did not originally market itself as an 18+ comic at the start of its publishing, but it very much turns into one after Season 1. Please read at your own discretion.)

(Image description is in the alt text)

Here are the 3 leads of each Webtoon:

Let's Play stars Sam Young, a 22-year-old White woman.

Late Bloomer stars Mai Rose, a 26-year-old Black woman. (Mai is pronounced as "May")

Brimstone and Roses stars Beatrice "Bea" Rosario, a 24-year-old Mexican-American woman. (According to the author, Bea can be pronounced as "Bee" or "Bay-uh")

Let's start with Let's Play.

As a former reader of Let's Play (I read through all 3 seasons), I did observe how this story was perceived by others. The White main character was constantly coddled by readers in the comments section. I would argue that Sam has stunted mental and emotional growth because of her upbringing, and this stays relatively consistent throughout the comic. Her dynamic with Charles wasn't healthy, nor did it actually lead to any significant growth for Sam's character, and it took 3 seasons for people to even realize that. Sam is heavily dependent on Charles, who is way too possessive over someone who isn't even his girlfriend. Sam even acknowledges that he's too pushy for her liking.

There's also this:

Which is just a visualized way of saying "I can fix him." It's set up like she thinks that she alone can help unpack all of his problems if she just gives him some of her own love and care.

The author wants her audience to believe that Sam is manipulating Charles during some points of the story, as Charles makes that point twice (Although, one of those moments is honestly just the author speaking through him), but Sam is portrayed similarly to that of a naive child who Charles takes care of at the same time:

(Context: She drank Irish Coffee sometime before this scene. She did not ask the waitress to elaborate on what it was, and for some reason the waitress herself didn't even tell her that either when she asked for coffee, not alcohol. Charles was left taking care of an intoxicated Sam from that point forward, and the question of whether he'd accept her offer to sleep with her was Season 2's cliffhanger.)

Sam is 22 and Charles is 26-30 (Confirmed in "Questions and Answers II"). They're both adults, obviously, but the way they act led me to believe that their mental and emotional maturity gap is significantly large (Meaning that I can more realistically buy Charles being 30 instead of 26). Sam is frustratingly naive, but someone who's been portrayed as having less power and awareness in the dynamic is a person who I have a harder time believing as being manipulative, compared to Charles, who is much more experienced than her and knows better. He admitted earlier in the story that their relationship was unprofessional and questionable, yet continued it anyway when he could have firmly said no.

Sam also is shown to leave her apartment door unlocked twice, despite knowing that a stranger could walk in. The first time Sam did it, she did it because Charles was coming over and she was going to take a shower, so she told him to let himself in once he got there. The second time was also because she expected Charles to show up, and she was relaxing in her bed while she was waiting for him.

Aside from Sam's character consistently being this glorified portrayal of innocence (seen through the lamb symbolism she has and how much Charles fawns over her because of it), she also isn't really relatable, something that the author tried to portray her as (given that she wanted a relatable and realistic story). Sam's dad is the founder and CEO of a software development company called Young Technologies, and her mom is a world-renowned model and actress. Sam herself is supposed to be a struggling game developer, but she also works at her dad's company as Charles's assistant. From a design standpoint, Sam is conventionally attractive just like her two friends, Angela and Vikki, with all three of them (and most of the women in this comic, honestly) having hourglass figures.

I'm not saying that pretty people can't be insecure or have problems, but every trait added together showcases that Sam, in comparison to most of her friends (Especially Dee, for example. Dee is a dark-skinned, plus-sized Black lesbian, and she works at a coffee shop), is insanely privileged. Given that she comes from a rich family that also has a high social status, with a dad who doesn't even take much convincing to do something when asked by his wife or daughter, Sam has no shortage of money to fund her game and can easily find help with marketing it as well (I'm aware that part of the story's conflict is that Sam doesn't want to take over her dad's business and wants to pursue a career in game development instead, but her dad's backbone is so non-existent that I doubt it would be that hard for her or her mom to get him to contribute towards Sam's games).

Next is Late Bloomer.

I read this comic before Let's Play was first published, so seeing the feedback between that comic and this one was like constantly being given whiplash. Mai works at a place called Galivoyage Travel Services. As the comic goes on, readers referred to her as lazy, spoiled, whiny, unsympathetic, desperate, inconsiderate, and horrible at her job (She is actually bad at her job, but I'll get back to that later). She was called shallow in Episode 8 for turning down Zander, a guy who admitted that he got himself arrested for attempted robbery at a pet store because of his fish obsession (she was also accused of hypocrisy for being put off by Zander's habits, since she has a trait that causes a rose bud to grow on her stomach).

Before this, Mai dated a blind guy in episodes 5 and 6. Because of what happened in Episode 6, readers later accused her of having a judgemental streak for turning down both Zander and this blind guy, claiming that she rejected the latter just because he was blind.

That was not the reason why Mai declined on taking the relationship further. The date was a bust, as neither parties were being fully honest with one another (Mai didn't even know that the guy was blind because he kept that information from her). The blind guy took her to a candlelit dinner that was pitch black, and he had his friend coaching him the whole time. Mai picked up on how sketchy he was acting, and things started to escalate. Her outfit caught on fire because the blind guy accidentally knocked over a candle, and Mai was drenched in water that was thrown at her via a bucket to put it out. Mai did not blame the guy for anything and even acknowledged that her friend, Flora, lied about things on Mai's dating profile while creating it. Mai simply wanted to forget that the night happened and hoped all parties would put it all behind them, but as she's leaving, the blind dude reveals his true colors: He's an asshole. He gets mad at her for leaving and insults her appearance, then proceeds to victimize himself by blaming her rejection on his blindness.

Readers were asking for Mai's character development by Episode 10. At the time of when I read this story (2017), I remembered readers also threatening to drop the comic if development didn't happen after this point in the story. Those comments may have been removed by now, but there are still others who say that they find it hard to like the comic with such a frustrating main character.

Onto Brimstone and Roses.

I'll admit that I'm a new reader for this comic. I'd heard that it featured a bisexual woman of color as a main lead, and the story deals with her personal struggles alongside a demon that she summoned. Bea is a very flawed character, and I appreciate that about her. She has flaws that revolve around the career she wanted to pursue, her complicated family life, and her romantic relationships - Aside from her having a demon, there was nothing really out of the ordinary all things considered.

What shocked me was that it only took 8 episodes for the readers to completely turn on Bea (though negative reception already had quickly built up to that point) and call her all types of names. The readers deemed her unlikeable, selfish, petty, stupid, childish, and a pathological liar. One person stated that they were now only reading the comic for Lazareth, the demon that Bea summoned. Others stressed that they wanted to see character development from Bea as soon as possible.

We are 8 episodes into the Webtoon. That was all it took.

Are you seeing the problem yet?

I need to stress that I'm not saying that Mai and Bea are above criticism just because the former is Black and the latter is a brown Hispanic woman. Far from it, actually.

Mai's work ethic is, like I mentioned earlier, not great. She prioritizes dating over her job, and consistently gets bad reviews from her clients. She and Flora are called out on this multiple times, and are both implied to be dragging the rest of their team down.

Bea, on the other hand, is desperate, selfish, and jealous of her ex-girlfriend despite pretending that it's the opposite. Lazareth calls her out on her behavior, and she comes to accept very early on that he is right. Now she has to deal with the consequences of summoning a demon for petty reasons.

These two leads being called out for their actions isn't the issue. The problem is that Sam constantly gets passes from readers despite having glaring flaws and little to no actual character growth, yet she is praised for having an "empowering" and "relatable" story. There is nothing relatable about a daughter of a CEO and model who has three conventionally attractive male love interests, and whose initial story about becoming a game developer is sidelined after Season 1 in favor of her pursuing her horny, BDSM-loving boss (No shade to anyone who likes BDSM, it's not inherently a bad thing. Charles is just very unprofessional and his unhealthy sex habits are part of the reason as to why). Sam's "empowerment" comes from her changing herself to please a man. Everything that Charles tells her, from how she should act to how she should dress (Wearing revealing or skintight clothing does not automatically make you a more confident person), is based on what he personally likes. Sam even bases some of her own choices on what she thinks Charles would like as well, rather than what she likes.

Sam does not learn much of value from Charles despite her initially claiming that he is the only one who's helped her improve. Her development is mostly stagnant until Monica and Marshall are around, as they're the only ones in the comic who give Sam actually decent advice (I'd count Olivia as well, but she hasn't been relevant in so long that I forgot she even existed). Sam's flaws are usually glossed over, and when she is called out, it's not for the right reasons (i.e. victim blaming, as she is somehow the real manipulator and not Charles).

Mai and Bea are much more heavily scrutinized in comparison, and in Mai's case, not all of it is for the right reasons either. As stated before, Mai did not leave her blind date because he was blind, and the guy's friend even calls out his behavior. The friend states that, because of him, Mai nearly received burn injuries and had her entire appearance ruined when the fire was put out. All she wanted was to go home, and she was within her right to do so. Again, Mai also acknowledged that she and her date weren't completely honest with one another about their identities. However, even though what happened was an accident, the blind guy's lies and planning caused more harm towards Mai compared to vice versa.

Mai was also within her right to turn down Zander. There's nothing wrong with him dressing up as a fish if that's an interest of his, but robbery and crimes are a dealbreaker for multiple people in the dating scene. It's not her job to help him through what's clearly a deep-rooted problem - as readers had claimed she should - since they'd only been on the second date thus far. None of this makes her shallow or picky, and it baffles me that the author of Late Bloomer was shamed by readers for writing this.

Sam's arc and initial plot can remain mostly static and many readers won't complain, but they turned on Mai and Bea because their character arcs weren't moving fast enough for them. Why is Sam's character allowed to move so slowly for multiple seasons, while Mai and Bea have a time limit of about 8 to 10 episodes to receive character growth before readers get bored or angry? If their arcs had moved that fast or been completed in that amount of time, their stories would be rushed.

It's explained later on in Late Bloomer that the reason why Mai is bad at her job is because she never received proper training, and Joune (Pronounced as "June"), a manager at a different branch in the company, shows her what's she's supposed to be doing. The audience is also shown that Flora is one of the main reasons why Mai continues to be distracted from her work. Flora is the one who came up with most of the dating plans for Mai, and constantly has her running around with her to go places. Mai obviously can say no to her, but Flora is characterized as being pushy and dragging multiple people into her antics. Readers knew that Flora was a bad influence and still put most of the blame on Mai anyway.

Eprille (Pronounced as "April"), Mai's boss, is one of two characters who chew Mai out for her unprofessionalism and bad work ethic, but he's shown to be a hypocrite throughout the story since he's just as unprofessional as Mai is, if not more. Eprille is insanely petty, using work as a means of getting back at his ex, Marche (Pronounced as "March"). Both Joune and Cloud (Joune and Eprille's friend) call Eprille out on this, and he's also playing favorites with Mai at work. It's later revealed that the reason why he was so interested in Mai, and the only reason why she didn't get fired from her job sooner, is because he's been fetishizing her rose bud. That bud is part of a process that Late Bloomer calls "Botanical Development." Mai's family line on her mother's side has a symbiotic relationship with a plant in their body, which grows more when it detects their destined partner. If the person chooses to sleep with that partner, the fully grown plant will fall off. Eprille knew about people with this trait, and he had been pursuing Mai solely so that he could have sex with her to see if her plant would detach (assuming that he's her chosen partner). By this point in time, Mai had also found out that Eprille had hooked back up with Marche, but Eprille didn't tell her as he had been pursuing her. He then proceeds to blame her for flirting with him despite him leading her on the whole time.

It was also Eprille's responsibility to train his employees, but he never did. The irony of him chastising Mai for not being a good worker is that her being that way is his own fault, because she improves significantly after Joune shows her the ropes.

Eprille is later demoted from his position by his grandmother (the founder of Galivoyage) for his consistently bad management, and Marche is also fired for being irresponsible at work and causing drops in sales.

As for Bea, I've heard plenty about how her character gets better and even more interesting as the story goes on. Although I haven't read much myself, I consider the author to be very talented for being able to get me hooked after 6 episodes while setting up the trajectory of Bea's journey towards healing as a person. That leaves plenty of time to carefully unpack her baggage and tackle her emotional instability instead of rushing through it just to get to an ending.

I focused on just 3 comics for examples, but I could have mentioned more, such as Haxor and Lookism. Some readers of Let's Play have actually referred to Haxor in the comments as a series where you can find "sjws,"-

oh man if you guys wanna find the Tumblr sjws just read big jo or haxor. the comments on the 1st ep of the latter is YIKES

-which I suspect is because of Iso, the comic's Black female lead. The "yikes" comments being referenced were part of a conversation that happened because non-black readers didn't understand why some people were genuinely ecstatic about seeing a Black girl as a main character in a comic. As a result, Black women ended up having to explain to White people why this was personally important to them, and the author himself was glad that Black women were enjoying his comic.

I didn't get very far with Haxor, but from what I did read, the audience would point out that Iso has a huge ego, and that she needed to be humbled. While being too confident is certainly a character flaw that is acknowledged during the story, as I was reading, I couldn't help but wonder if some readers would be this critical if Iso was White, since many White characters who have her traits are praised for being who they are unapologetically. Iso canonically is a young prodigy in the story, and several people depend on her for support. Obviously she isn't perfect, but it's easy to understand where her overconfidence comes from.

Lookism was a completely different case, featuring Park Hyung-Seok - known as "Daniel Park" in English - the comic's light-skinned Korean male lead. Daniel, for all intents and purposes, is a pathetic and unlikeable (though somewhat sympathetic) character when he is introduced to the audience. He disrespected his mom in the very first episode, as well as Episode 2, because he couldn't bring himself to admit to her that he was getting bullied and also prioritized how he was being perceived by his female classmates (who he repeatedly objectifies). Daniel did this while knowing that his mom was working hard at her job to provide for him, and also knowing that she was trying to defend him against his bullies. Despite this, Lookism is one of the most popular Webtoon comics, as many people kept reading and got the chance to see Daniel grow as a person. Daniel is referred to by readers as having a "great personality" (which I agree with, his character development is great).

If these readers have White and light-skinned characters with similar flaws and circumstances to that of some Black and brown characters as their favorites, but they react more negatively to the Black and brown ones, then they need to ask themselves why.

Why did they dismiss Late Bloomer's Black female lead as just lazy without knowing the full story? Why did they shame the comic's Black female author for not having her character settle for the first two men that she went on dates with?

Why is Brimstone and Roses's author not allowed to let Bea take her time to grow? People with her issues don't change in a day, or even a few. Why are readers less patient with her in comparison to White or lighter-skinned Webtoon leads who are just as flawed?

I am asking Webtoon readers to please give these characters the same grace and patience that you would your favorite White and light-skinned characters. If the story or characters aren't for you, that's ok. I've dropped plenty of media that I wasn't interested in after watching a few episodes of a show, or reading a few chapters of a book. However, when it's the very beginning of someone's story, you very well could be missing out on something great if you're disproportionately judging these women of color far too quickly, especially when many of you will sit through Webtoons that contain hundreds of episodes in them (As for the Let's Play fans, many of you guys sat there seeing nothing wrong with what was going on with Sam and Charles's entire dynamic until the second to last episode in Season 3, when Charles searches through her phone when he thinks Sam is asleep).

I'm not even saying that these stories are perfect, either! I had plenty of criticisms surrounding Late Bloomer as I was reading it, but I still love it despite its flaws. I'm saying that if you can enjoy flawed stories with heavily flawed White and light-skinned leads, you can do the same for flawed Black and brown female leads as well.

[animasolaoriginal]

(3) I n n o c e n c e L o s t

He finds her in a brothel of all places. A chance encounter, but one that will change his life – and hers – forever. – or: A story about a cowboy who falls in love with a prostitute, who happens to be so much more than that.

GENERAL TAGS: NSFW! Explicit! Size difference, age gap, slow burn romance. Cowboys, outlaws, prostitutes. Historical inaccuracy. Horses, guns, violence.

Chapter 1▫️2▫️3▫️4▫️5▫️6▫️7▫️8▫️9▫️10▫️11▫️12▫️13 ...

Chapter 3: The Promise

m!OC x f!OC -- WORDS: 5.5k -- READ ON AO3

when a girl meets a bunch of outsiders

Chapter 2 -- Chapter 4

3

Wow.

When the girl returns from Ginny's wagon, she looks like a completely different person. A young woman. Long brown hair in a messy side braid, hanging over her shoulder. She's wearing a dark green skirt with a white underskirt peeking past the hem, reaching her calves, made of stiff cotton, hitched up at one side to reveal a pale knee clad in the ruffled fabric of a pair of long bloomers. Frilly white socks in dark ankle boots. Her torso is covered in a loose violet linen blouse, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, hugging her soft chest, hinting at the small mounds beyond, buttoned up high enough to hide any sign of cleavage or too much skin.

He's almost a little disappointed.

But in his mind he still sees the naked girl as she steps out of the tub, water running down her pale skin, along the gentle curves of her body and the harsher edges of her hipbones, her hands outstretched as she offers him support to get out as well, her arms squishing those soft little breasts together. His large hands close around her wrists, and he gets up with a groan, his body heavy from the warm water, the rest of the alcohol, the comfort of being with her.

She leads him to the bed, his eyes roam her small frame, the way her hips sway, her rear, those small but plump cheeks, how her thighs move when she walks, the muscles in her calves. He barely registers how she grabs a towel, how she dries his large body, then hers, all he sees and smells and wants is her. Her big green eyes look up at him, and it might have been a trick of the light, but he sees hunger in them, her pupils slightly dilated.

He watches her as she crawls onto the bed, on all fours, then spins around and lies down on her back, legs pressed together, a little stiff, before she settles on the sheets, hair splayed out around her head as she sinks onto the pillow, a slight jiggle to her small breasts, her arms resting above her head in a submissive sort of gesture.

His body moves on its own, his mind spinning, the weight of his cock a constant reminder what he really wants, but when he climbs onto the bed, over her, he takes a deep breath, his eyes roaming her frame, every inch of her pale, slender body, and then he simply lies down on her, focused on not squishing her, his heavy head resting right in the valley between her breasts, his arms snaking around her small body, so tiny, so frail, so vulnerable, and he still wants to press his broader frame to her soft skin, feel her warmth.

His hips encircle her pelvis, her upper thighs, he feels the slight throbbing of his cock as it's squished between his lower stomach and her leg, and then... he just fell asleep. Too comfortable to follow the images in his head of doing things to her he probably shouldn't be doing, no matter how much he wants to. (Keira's kid.) Before he drifts off into blissful unconsciousness, he feels her small hands on his back, sliding into his hair, holding him like he's holding her.

And now she's here, in his camp, away from the grueling life of servicing random men. She looks different, she walks differently. More timid, as if the world is too big for her, the sky too blue, the sun too warm, too many unknowns around her. But he'll help her adjust, he'll take care of her, he's promised himself this the moment he has seen Keira in her, heard of her story.

He still can't believe the woman he once loved would leave her own daughter like this, destined to be degraded every night, to be just a body, a mouth, a throat, to be used. There has to be more to that story.

Like there is more to the establishment she has worked in. He had no idea about the strings attached to a simple brothel in a small town, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, whose hands are pulling them, who he has made very mad probably. But then again he doesn't care. She's safe now. She was one of many girls, why would they come after her specifically?

He sighs the many thoughts away and walks towards her, watches Ginny tug on her blouse, fluffing it up a little, making it more airy, loosen a few buttons. The girl blushes when he approaches them, meeting his eyes with a shy smile.

“Beautiful,” he says in a low hum, tilting his head. She blushes even more (or is that rouge on her cheeks?) and looks away, a soft little giggle falling over her full lips.

“Functional,” Ginny exclaims with a laugh and pats the girl on the back a little too hard, causing her to stumble a bit. “This weather can be brutal in too many layers. I'll pick up some more clothes for you later, dearie,” she tells Nebbia with a motherly smile, and she nods at the red-haired woman, muttering a soft: “Thank you.”

Ginny laughs and walks to stand next to Ben, looking back over her shoulder. “She may look like Keira, but she is so much more polite,” she whispers at him, and he huffs a chuckle and nods. “Be good to her, huh?” she adds and pokes her finger into his side playfully before she keeps walking.

“Of course,” he growls, his eyes still fixed on the brunette in front of him.

Then they are alone, and she looks so small and helpless, her hands fidgeting with the fabric of her wide skirt. He takes a step closer, looking down at her. She tilts her chin up and meets his gaze. There's more than shyness to her expression now, there's curiosity, expectation. Like she's waiting for him to take her hand and show her this new world he's brought her to.

And so he does, his long fingers close around her wrist, move down until he envelops her small hand in his, and with a crooked smirk, he tilts his head to her and nudges her onward, pulling her along towards where the horses graze in the bright sun, their coats shimmering in the light, their manes and tails moving slightly in the warm breeze.

She squeezes his hand gently when she follows him. “They're so pretty,” she whispers as he watches how her eyes wander over the various horses until she spots the large black stallion, bigger than all the others, on the other side of the meadow, grazing in the shadows near the trees. “Hey, is that the horse that carried us last night? The black one?” she asks quietly, looking up at him with her big green eyes. Like deep water pierced by the rays of the sun, shifting, glowing.

He's lost in those eyes for a moment, but nods nonetheless. “Come on, let me properly introduce you to Thunder,” he says with a smile and leads her along the edge of the field towards his horse.

“Thunder?” Her voice sounds almost mocking.

He scoffs. “Yes. You don't think that's a good name for a big black Friesian?”

She mouths something he can't understand, as if repeating a word she's never heard before. “Why Thunder?” she then asks with childlike curiosity.

“Well, I've won him in a round of poker, and it was a stormy night... and I was drunk out of my mind, so...” he explains with a shrug, giving her a smirk. She replies it in earnest.

“I guess it's better than Lightning Bolt or something,” she muses.

He laughs, stopping and raising their joined hands to point towards a large gray Mustang with a black mane. She frowns at him, then looks that way. “Let me introduce you to Lightning Bolt,” he chuckles. “Mitch's horse. Won the same night.”

“Oh,” she makes and stifles a snicker. “You are very creative men...” she says before she looks up at him. “Who's Mitch?”

“The man at the table who's been smoking,” he says and keeps walking, squeezing her hand. “The man you probably heard this morning. We are a tight-knit, more or less democratic community, but he runs things around here. He might look and sound stern, but he'll warm up to you, don't worry.”

She gives a doubtful humming sound, falling silent then. He throws her a side-glance and continues on their way along the meadow until they reach the large black horse. Thunder snorts in greeting, bowing his large head towards them.

Ben lets go of Nebbia's hand and pats the animal heartily. “Hello, old boy. Well rested, huh?” With one hand on his strong neck, slipping his fingers through his long mane, he reaches the other out towards the girl who keeps a respectful distance. She looks particularly small next to the giant steed. “Come on, don't be afraid, he's mild as a dove,” he chuckles.

She raises an eyebrow but cautiously puts her hand on his large palm. He pulls her closer, then places her hand onto Thunder's shiny black coat. He's warm to the touch, muscles twitching beneath their hands. She gasps slightly as Ben moves her hand along the back, letting her feel the strong muscles and warmth of his skin. He stands right behind her, caging her in between his body and the horse.

Thunder's withers stands at proud five foot six, probably six inches taller than the girl trying to look over his massive body. She is still petting the patient animal, when he leans back a little, about to slip his hands into his pockets, but then he has the urge to grab her waist and lift her up. And he does. She yelps and squeals, but doesn't kick him, luckily, until he's sat her sideways on the horse, her eyes wide, her lips trembling, her hands trying to grab his wrists in support.

“Still afraid of heights, hm?” he muses, looking up at her, his hands resting on her hips.

She nods. “Please set me down,” she whispers. “It's even worse when I can actually see the ground...”

“Don't look down then,” he laughs, holding her in place. Thunder snorts but doesn't move.

“Will you hold me?” she asks, her voice a breathy whisper, shaking slightly.

“Of course.”

He sees her swallowing before she dares to look around, her breath slowly easing as she focuses on the forest and the meadow and the house in the distance. She even looks up into the blue sky and inhales deeply, her chest rising under her blouse. But as soon as he lets go of her, she gasps and stares at him.

“Calm down,” he chuckles, remaining close to the horse, her shoes brushing against his arm. “Maybe you'll like it more if you'd sit like a man,” he then tells her.

“Like a –”

“With one leg on either side.”

“Oh,” she breathes. “But my skirt –”

“Lift it up a little, I'll hold you,” he says and puts his hands back on her waist while she fidgets with the hem of her long skirt. She hitches it up to her knees, revealing more of the long bloomers beneath it. “Now try to throw one leg over his neck.”

She leans into his hold (the trust she has in him is both impressive and a little concerning) and does as he's suggested. He helps her by lifting her slightly, allowing her skirt to ride up more as she moves her leg over the horse's body. The thick fabric is gathered in her lap now, her bare shins hanging off either side.

“Grab his mane,” he instructs, gently nudging her elbow to make her do it. She is a little stiff on the horse's back (such a tiny girl on this giant animal), her hands shaking, but eventually she digs her fingers through the thick black hair and grabs a tuft of it in each hand. “You're doing great, sweetheart,” he praises, and she turns her head to him and smiles timidly.

He keeps one hand on her lower back, showing her he's there, but lowers his other hand to grab a hold of Thunder's halter, then nudges the reins free from where they're tugged to a post. Taking a step forwards, he sees the horse following his movements, slowly starting to bring his large body into motion, and Nebbia yelps in surprise, gripping the mane tighter when she sways slightly backwards.

“It's alright, relax, I got you,” he tells her, but her body is tense under his hand. “You won't fall. Trust me.”

He feels her taking a shuddering breath as she white-knuckles the tufts of hair in her small hands. A sigh of his own escapes him as his hand wanders towards her tight fists, gently easing her grip. She looks at him, pressing her lips together. He keeps his hand there and leads the large Friesian in a half-circle across the meadow, his heavy hooves stomping loudly over the grass.

“He moves so gracefully,” he hears her whisper, and smiles up at her. “Despite his build.”

He laughs at that. “Never judge a large guy by his build alone, eh?” he muses, throwing her a wink. A few red spots move onto her pale cheeks and a smile tugs at the corner of her lips. He gently squeezes her hands.

“Can I get down now? I should probably be more... productive,” she whispers, and he remembers Mitch's words. No slacking. He nods with a sigh and turns Thunder around, bringing him back to his spot in the shade. By the end of the round, she sits much more relaxed on top of the large animal.

He puts the reins back around the post, patting the horse's neck gently. “Well done, boy.” Then he turns to the girl on his back, tilting his head with a smirk. “So, you think you can get down yourself?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips, shifting his belt slightly.

The tiny girl looks down at him with a fearful pout, hands still gripping the mane tightly. “Please help me,” she mouths barely audible.

“Try to put your leg over his neck again,” he says, dropping his arms and stepping closer. “Don't worry, I'll catch you if you slip.”

She holds his gaze, then focuses on what he's told her. She's still stiff, very tense in her movements, but somehow she manages to pull her leg towards him, sitting sideways again now. He smiles up at her and reaches his arms out, beckoning her closer. This trust in him... what does she see in him that makes her so trusting?

Suddenly she leans forwards, her hands finding his forearms, then his shoulders, while his hands scrape along her sides, trying to grip her waist, and with a slight “Oof” from him and a tiny yelp from her, she falls into his arms, wraps hers around his neck and slumps against his chest as she slips off the horse's back. He holds her, arms tightly around her small body, pressing her against him.

He can't help but inhale deeply, take in her scent, remember last night.

Her cheek moves over his, soft skin against the roughness of his beard. She holds onto him, relaxing in his hold, the tension falling off her. Thunder gives off a loud whinny and breaks through his thoughts, his memories of her naked body beneath his, of his wants, of her lips around –

With a deep sigh, he loosens his grip and lets her slip down his body until her feet meet the ground, her arms outstretched, hands gripping the back of his neck as she looks up at him. Hopeful, intrigued, a little flustered and confused. Her cheeks are reddened. His hands rest on her waist, thumbs rubbing over her stomach, fingers tracing the curve of her spine. He wants to rip off that violet blouse, expose her, really feel her...

“Thank you,” she whispers, and he doesn't know what exactly she's thanking him for, but he takes it, nods with a soft smile, watches her, awfully aware that he shouldn't look at her like this. Not in broad daylight, not here with everyone watching him like he's gone mad for bringing this girl to their camp.

But he had to. And when push comes to shove, he will go with her, if they don't want him, he will not leave her to her own devices. Not now that he knows that she exists.

He takes a deep breath, and she sees it as a sign to let go of him. Her hands move slowly down along his chest before she drops them, the same moment he drops his, and she takes a step back, almost bumping into the large black horse behind her.

“Alright,” he sighs and puts his hands into his pockets. “Lemme show you what you can do around here to get on Mitch's good side,” he tells her with a wink and tilts his head to the side to show her to follow him. She nods eagerly and walks with him.

Nebbia is surprisingly enthusiastic about the various chores they have around the camp. He shows her the laundry buckets near the back of the house where a small creek bubbles along the line of the trees, the clothing lines spanned between them, drying clothes already on them. They meet Milly, the oldest of the women, her toothless smile full of joy at the sight of the much younger girl.

The next station he brings her to is the cooking wagon. The cart is full of supplies, mostly tin cans, but there's fresh meat hanging outside the tent erected next to it, drying in the sun. The smell is mouthwatering already. A large pot rests on a stand above a fire-pit, a big ladle inside, bowls of various shapes and sizes piled up around it. Soup of the day, or of most days. They don't get too much variation around here. But it's a belly filling meal, warm and tasty, so he doesn't complain.

On their way to the supply tent, they walk past a group of men lounging around a smaller fire, sitting on the dirt, backs against the logs around them, smoking and drinking already, laughing at their own jokes. It's Bob, Bill and Joe, their best shooters, fastest riders, but also their most degenerate. They're good on a job, but bad among people. He's tempted to avoid them by taking the girl in a wide circle around them, but despite their mid-day buzz, they spot her immediately. Bob's whistle cuts the air.

“Boys, behave,” Ben tells them sternly, holding onto Nebbia's hand a little tighter as he pulls her towards him.

“Ah, c'mon, Ben!” Joe slurs, raising his beer bottle. “I thought you brought her here to share!”

His jaw clenches, as does his hand around hers. A little gasp escapes her, but instead of squirming away, she presses closer to his side, away from the leering men. “She's the newest member of our camp, an equal, Joe. If you wanna keep the ability to drink with that dirty mouth of yours, I'd say you shut it right now.”

Joe waves it off and scoffs, but remains silent. All of them do, actually, so he pulls her along, trying to ignore them for now. He eases the tension in his hand and takes a look at the girl next to him, ready to round the corner of the house, when Bill's voice wafts over to them.

“I wish I could take my whores back to camp, that would spare me the ride to –“

A rush of air. A loud crack. A grunt. A fist hitting the middle of his ugly face without hesitation, a deep growl rumbling from Ben's throat. He's left her standing at the corner, having witnessed the trembling of her small body at those words, and with only a few long strides he has reached the men and let his anger out. His hand is throbbing, blood (not his) running down his knuckles. The other man writhes in pain, holding his broken nose.

“What the fuck, Ben?” Bob calls out, attempting to rise from where he sits.

He takes a menacing step towards him, raising his fist. “I dare you,” he hisses through his teeth, eyes narrowed, jaw clenched, fury boiling beneath his skin.

Bob raises his hands and slumps back down. “Alright, alright,” he mumbles.

Joe just stares at him. He throws them each one more dark glare, then turns around, inhaling deeply, his fist clenched by his side. Nebbia waits for him with wide eyes, trembling lips, and as soon as he reaches her, her small hands grab his bloody fist and pull it up for her to look at.

“I'm not hurt,” he growls, but she only looks up at him, cradling his bloody hand between her fingers, her skin so soft and delicate, pale in comparison to his tan.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, lowering her gaze, her fingertips gently caressing his throbbing knuckles.

He frees his hand from her hold and uses it to grab her chin, making her look up. Her gasp is both scared and surprised. “Do not apologize! Those bastards deserve every punching they get if they call you... if they talk about you like that,” he mutters darkly.

She swallows hard, unable to move away as she stares at him, her body shivering despite the heat around them. He watches her for a moment longer, then lets go of her chin and sighs, wiping his hand on his jeans to get rid of the blood that isn't his. Then he offers the same hand back to her, palm up. She puts her delicate hand onto it, and he closes his fingers gently around it before he pulls her further through the camp.

They reach the large supply tent where the Stacys try to bring order into the chaos of last night's haul. There are shelves stacked with ammunition, medical supplies, match boxes, candles, blankets, other useful things they snatch up whenever they head out. A makeshift wall in the far back holds additional weapons, shotguns, pistols, rifles, cleaning supplies. The two women who look alike except for the hue of their skin and the size of their noses look up, eyes hard, lips pressed together.

“Ladies,” he greets with a bow of his head. They share a look before their eyes move over the girl, up and down, almost as bad as the men have looked at her, but at least the women know when to shut up – but to be fair, both of them are missing parts of their tongues, another similarity they share, so he shouldn't be so quick to judge. If they could talk, they'd call her the same name. Whore. Unwanted. Doesn't belong here.

Ben clears his throat and nods again, always slightly intimidated by their muteness. He pulls the quiet girl along, who seems to shrink even more beside him the more he shows her of the camp and the people inhabiting it. Once they're out of earshot, he leans down to her.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

She chews on her bottom lip. “They all don't want me here, huh?” she whispers.

He sighs and straightens, pushing his free hand through his messy hair. “They all started out as outsiders. Hell, we are all a bunch of outsiders, people pushed out of society, left behind, forgotten, trying to find their place. We came together like this, each of us with a stranger backstory. So once they remember that, they'll welcome you in their midst, too. You are one of us now, do you understand?” he adds and looks at her, squeezing her hand, tempted to grab her face and stroke her cheek, wipe his thumb under her watering eyes.

Her gaze is wide, green orbs shimmering in the dazzling sunlight. A tiny smile grazes her lips, before a frown settles between her brows. “But... you said you're a sort of... democratic bunch, but then you just brought me here without them knowing, without them agreeing, how is that okay?” she whispers, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

He just shakes his head, inhaling deeply. “You're special, sweetheart,” he says, and she frowns deeper. He doesn't say anything more, and she doesn't press him, just looks away, looking more confused than before, with her cheeks a little bit more red.

They continue their way through the camp, the clanging and shuffling of the Stacys organizing stuff in the supply tent echoing after them.

“Also don't take anything the twins do personally. They're... very strange women, sharing the same name, almost the same looks, the same fate. They used to be performers in a traveling circus until the ringmaster decided he had enough of their blabbering and cut their tongues out.”

Nebbia's eyes grow wider when she looks back at him, a shocked tremble rushing through her. He rubs his thumb over the back of her hand.

“We call them the Stacys, by the way,” he says nonchalantly and leads her past the line of tents, nestled against the side of the house. She follows slowly, still battling her reaction. “Those bastards by the fire were Bob, Bill and Joe. Mitch and Ginny you've already met, Milly was the lady by the creek,” he lists, trying to remember who else he should introduce her to. He also doesn't want to overwhelm her with names and people too much.

“Who was the other man at the table? The one next to Mitch?” she asks quietly, looking up at him, seemingly not as overwhelmed as he has thought.

“Mitch's right hand, Steve,” he answers quietly, his eyes wandering ahead in search of the man. Luckily he can't see him. “You should stay clear of him, though.”

“Why?” she asks innocently.

“You know, we're all people trying to start new lives here, forget the past. Well, some of us, him included, have a rather dark past... darker than any of us combined,” he tells her in a hushed voice, leaning a little closer. She holds his gaze curiously, but he can see goosebumps on her bare forearms. “He was a very disturbed fella, might still be, no matter how helpful he's been recently. Just... stay away from him, it'll be fine.” He hopes.

She stops walking, squeezing his hand. “What did he do?” she breathes.

Ben shakes his head, straightening up again. “A story for another time,” he says, his gaze stern.

She bites her lip, but nods, looking down at the ground. He starts moving again, dragging her gently after him. Curious little kitten, you know what curiosity did to you, hm? he thinks, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

They reach the large table again, and it's only Mitch, who sits in the bright sun, still smoking, flicking through a book. Ben has to admit that he owes him, his life, his will to keep going, him being here, but the older man doesn't always make it easy to be around him. His dark mustache twitches when he looks up at them with narrowed eyes.

“So,” he says, leaning back in his chair, staring at Nebbia. “Do you think you can work, girl? Make yourself useful?” he asks her, and Ben feels her flinching slightly at the deep, demanding tone of the other man.

“Yes, sir,” she replies timidly, not meeting Mitch's eyes. “I... I've worked before,” she whispers. “I... did the laundry, I cleaned, I repaired clothes and sheets, I –”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mitch cuts her off with a wave of his hand, the golden rings on his fingers gleaming in the sunlight. “Just do your part, and keep your head down. No trips into town for a while,” he adds, looking up at Ben, his gaze stern.

He suppresses a sigh. “Yes, Mitch,” he grumbles, working his jaw. Next to him, Nebbia squeezes his hand. He looks down at her.

“Does she need a room or a tent?” the older man asks after taking a drag from his cigarette.

“We'll figure it out,” Ben replies, both to him and to her as he meets her curious gaze.

“Ben?” Mitch's voice is a deep gruff grunt, hoarse around the smoke he's exhaling. He meets his eyes. It's just a look they share, but he knows what he's trying to tell him. Keep your head down. Be careful. I know who she is and who you think she is. But she is not her. Words they've shared before. Clenching his jaw, he gives a short nod, then turns away and pulls the girl after him.

Nebbia stumbles slightly, but catches herself before she follows him to the front of the house. There he stops, letting go of her hand to put his own into his pockets. She looks up at him with a frown. “So, where do you wanna start?”

She tilts her head. “Start?”

“Working. Laundry with Milly? Organizing with the Stacys? Cooking with Ginny?” he lists, watching her closely.

“What are you going to do?” she asks, meeting his gaze with a somewhat mischievous glint in her green eyes.

“Tending to the horses,” he says, looking her over with a smirk. “What? You wanna get dirty too?”

“You didn't say that was part of the chores here as well.” She sounds almost pouty.

“I thought you didn't like horses.”

“No, I'm terrified of their heights, but feeding and brushing them or cleaning their saddles doesn't require me to sit on their backs, right?” She takes a step closer to him, despite her very small stature building herself up in front of him. It's adorable. “And I like them. I find them really beautiful. Also, I... hmm, maybe I should stay clear of your people for today, until they get used to my presence...”

He's surprised by her change in demeanor. She was so timid and shy when he showed her around, introduced her to the others, a shrunken little girl too afraid to lift her eyes. But now she stares at him, challenging him, giving him cheek, and it feels refreshing. It reminds him of her.

“Oh and what did you mean by I'll make some money, but not how I think?” she asks, clearly on a roll now.

He raises an eyebrow. “All in due time,” he sighs and turns away, taking a step towards the meadow. She turns too. ��You're motivated, huh? I like that, but don't overdo it.” He can see her frown as he looks over his shoulder at her. “Well, come on then, we got a lot of horses to brush!”

Her face lights up immediately as she staggers to follow him, taking quick small steps to catch up to him, a happy smile grazing her full lips. Lips around – He groans, pushing a hand through his hair, then over his eyes as they walk together. His head is spinning, be it from the hangover, the post-heist-high, or from meeting this little gem of a girl.

He's promised her a better life, and he's glad she's away from the brothel, but what if all of that will come around to bite him in the ass? Mitch seems to see where this will go, his words of warning still echoing in his mind. Ginny's also had the same idea. Be good to her. And he wonders who she should stay clear of the most? The three leering degenerates? Steve? Or himself?

Last night he's told himself he wouldn't soil her, keep her innocence, make her feel safe. Treat her like a proper lady. But every time he looks at her flushed cheeks, at those ocean-green eyes, her beautiful lips, he remembers the rest of her, the alabaster skin, the slender body, lean limbs, small breasts, the hint of hair between her legs. The trust she is giving him.

He knows he doesn't deserve it. Because all he wants is to grab her, rip her clothes off and look at her again, bring his lips to hers, to her neck, to her breasts, down her stomach, force her legs open and taste her, feel her, soil her.

She's Keira's kid.

She looks like Keira. Is that why he feels so attracted to her? Despite her age? Despite it all? Is that enough to justify the throbbing of his cock? Or is he just as fucked-up as he's always feared to be?

He has no idea. But what he does know is that he will protect this girl, keep his promises, allow her to have a better life. And maybe, somehow, she feels grateful enough to allow him something else in return. Who knows.

Chapter 2 -- Chapter 4

End notes: A little bit more world building and somewhat vague character introductions, but don't worry, there'll be a lot more plot in the next chapter. A lot more! Get ready!

(Also I apologize for my incredibly creative naming skills... Bob, Bill and Joe, and Steve, yup, and Mitch really has nothing to do with RDR2's Dutch, nope, not at all... at least it wasn't intentional, my mind works in strange ways. But don't worry, these characters don't play that big a role anyway, it's about Ben and Nebbia, remember?)

Picture credits to their respective owners. I don't own anything. I gathered these from all around the Internet. If you see your picture and would like to have it removed, please tell me!

Thank you for reading!

Next chapter on Tuesday!

AO3 -- MASTERLIST -- INSPIRATION POSTS

[candycryptids]

Day 4 of Glamtober - Aldenard ! Full Glamtober Promptlist [Here] There's a lot of Glam this time so it's under the cut ! Along with a full body of the Elezen Merchant+ some bonuses :) Also, Keathan belongs to @dustedbooksandreadingnooks When Tuesday first arrived in Ishgard- it was in a crate! Keathan had to power him on for the first time... and then ask him one of many firsts; would you like to change clothes? He agrees; not because the Maid Dress is uncomfortable or particularly embarrassing, but because he stands out among most Ishgardians dressed as he is, and a nice coat would protect his core and joints from locking up in the cold :) Keathan has to help him a bunch with getting dressed and undressed- his fingers aren't very dextrous and the clasps and buckles of Ishgardian clothing prove to be a challenge....

Keathan is wearing- White Beret- Salmon Pink Heirloom Tunic Of Healing- Pastel Blue No.2 Type B Gloves- Salmon Pink Ruby Cotton Sarouel- Pastel Blue Wayfarer's Boots- Currant Purple/Pastel Blue Tuesday part 1 is wearing- Housemaid's Brim Housemaid's Apron Dress- Cream Yellow Sky Pirate's Gauntlets of Maiming- Snow White Housemaid's Bloomers Housemaid's Pumps Emerald Carbuncle Earring Tuesday part 2 is wearing- Highland Hood- Ink Blue/Ash Grey Seigneur's Jerkin- Ink Blue/Vanilla Yellow Hraesvelgr Gloves- Sylph Green High House Breeches Wolfliege Thighboots- Soot Black Fashionable Elezen Merchant is wearing- Alpine Coat- Rhotano Blue Roseblood gloves Gleaners Breeches Ishgardian Thighboots- Charcoal Grey aetheryte earring

She was hastily put together because I was having trouble posing the actual npc behind the counter. She’s real cute though I like her :) I like to think she wants to make her clothes a city-wide household name, but that’s about as far as my brain-train got. Here’s those extra bonuses I promised!

Tuesday is so super handsome and cute I just want to shake him around like a Mii. Shader is Neneko [Vanilla Natural [Gameplay]]

Notable Mods are Hrothgar And Viera Hats [Heliosphere] [NexusMods] I had to do a tiny bit of colorset editing on the Hat specifically because the ears part of the Highland Hood were not linked to the second dye, so I matched them to the grey instead of being firetruck red like it was originally ^^; Other than that, Tuesday is near totally vanilla! (I have some bunny teeth in for him but you can't really see them!)

[misguidedasgardian]

The Lifeaters (I.1)

I. Diagon Alley

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: Your aunt takes you to buy your list of things for Hogwarts, you were so excited, specially since you were going with your best friend 

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic), reader is a reader insert EXCEPT FOR her last name, I need something to call her by, except for that, she is un-described 

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia (?), that is what i’m going to call for racism against muggles 😂😂 with Draco we are going to have a lot of that

Wordcount: 3.8 k

Notes: I’m so excited for this, it took a lot of thinking because first they are children and it’s kinda boring, but I love Harry Potter! I’m a late Potterhead bloomer haha, anyways… here they are! 

Your aunt’s sweet voice, alongside the chirping of birds and the sun peeking through your windows woke you up. She was followed by your house elf that brought you breakfast in a tray

“Wake up my sweet girl! Today is the day before the actual day!”, she chanted. She had this saying, that the day before an important day is more exciting than the day itself. Because it was already the day, but the day before… it was filled with excitement… confusing but made sense in a war

She seemed to be even more excited than you if that was even possible, today you were going to go to Diagon Alley to get your things for Hogwarts, it was your first year in the school of witchcraft and wizardry 

You were so so happy

After you had your breakfast and heard your aunt speak about how excited she was for you to go to Hogwarts and reassuring you that it didn’t matter if you were not sorted in Slytherin, but you knew the truth

It did mattered 

For you at least

Draco Malfoy was your best friend, your friends and even you were actually Slytherin legacies, there wasn’t other house for you

You smiled as she helped you pick an outfit to get going. You got dressed in a nice skirt, blouse and sweater, and dragonskin boots. Even though you lived close to the Malfoys, you discussed meeting there.

You lived in the outskirts of a Muggle town called Salisbury, for them it was a secret of course but many other wizard families lived nearby, of course, their mansions hidden behind enchantments and protection spells.

Yours was by no means a mansion, it held one ground floor, but it was made mainly of white marble. With big windows and spacious rooms 

You were barely the second generation living in England, your mother’s family came from France, and your father’s family… they were English, that’s the only thing you actually knew about them

Yes, how could you not know?

But you had asked your Aunt until she got frustrated, and promised she was going to tell you when you were ready, you had to agree or she was never going to allow you to know the truth

But you guessed it was a fairly prominent family, a wizarding family at least, or else, you wouldn’t be surrounded by the people you were

The Malfoys for example 

Sometimes the thought of getting to know them kept you up at night, where were they? Did you have more aunts and uncles? Maybe a grandfather? of grandmother?

You came back to the present when your aunt Cercille gave you the small punch were you kept the floo powder

It was not your favorite travel method but it was the quickest to get where you need to go

The apparition was immediate and just like that, you were in Diagon Alley, your aunt immediately summoned a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped your face from any cinder or ash.

You had accompanied her to the Alley before, and you walked through the busy street as looked in awe at the owls, the wands and cauldrons, and this time, they will finally going to belong to you 

“I want nothing but the best for my darling niece”, you heard your aunt speak out loud, “for her first year at Hogwarts”, many families were walking up and down the alley with smiles on their faces, many kids your age as well, and some older, you saw a whole family, whose all members were redheads, looking for the same things you were, how fun. 

You entered the store they just left, for your books, as your aunt gave the list to the store clerk, and as he handed her the books, she started passing them on to your poor house elf that had come with you to help with the shopping. The pile of books became too much, surpassing the poor servant, and you had to take the rest, soon they surpassed you too.

And you exited the store without being able to look at anything.

Luckily Meek teleported itself back to your house, to leave the books, came back to you to grab yours and repeated the action.

“Thank you”, the elf didn’t speak much, he just nodded and apparated out and back again

“Can I get the nimbus 2000?”, you asked your aunt as you were back on the street, “please? I’ve been saving galleons…”

“You cannot my dear”, she said, pushing you down the street, “we were reminded that first years cannot bring their own broomsticks, maybe for next year”, and it sounded silly, but you wanted to cry, it meant that no quidditch for you

You bought in other stores the brass scale, a telescope (of course the black one with silver details), the cauldron and a beautiful set of antique crystal phials, now you were only missing your wand, and your familiar, and for the last one, you really wanted an owl, even though your aunt had given you that look, she preferred a cat, they were cleaner, but you promised you would clean after your owl.

So when you looked up at your aunt, and found her distracted speaking to an old friend she encountered, you took the opportunity to grab your small purse, and enter the first owlery that was closest to you. 

The store was a little bit run down, and you immediately got hit by a strong smell of bird waste and hay, and the hoots of the beautiful birds, you look at each and every one of them, they were big, small and medium sized, brown ones, even a beautiful snow white one… but a big set of orange eyes caught your eyes

“Are you here to choose your familiar little girl?”, an old man said behind a wooden desk, making you jump, “An owl?”, you nodded, enthusiastically, looking back at your aunt through the glass, she was still speaking to that friend, “Owls are fascinating creatures, very smart, and this ones are already trained to fetch letters and packages”, he said, he pointed to a Barn owl with huge black eyes

“Yeah, I love them”, you said, admiring the bird, but your gaze returned to a silvery cage, at the back of the store, as you looked closely, you noticed those enchanting orange eyes belonged to a big black owl, it’s feathers were ruffled, and she looked a little scruffy, but she was gorgeous, the store manager followed your gaze and smiled nervously

“She is… strange”, the Owl handler said, and you looked at him, “but you felt a bond didn’t you?”, and you nodded

“I want that one”, you said, and he only nodded, walking towards the back of the store and brought you the magnificent creature 

“She is a Southern white-faced owl, but with a strange condition that is called melanism, turn her feathers black you see”, he explained, and she was so beautiful, “Be careful little witch, she bites”, he said, concern when you opened her cage, and he was amazed when the bird let you touch her feathery head

“I’ll take her”, you said with a wide smile

You got out of the shop holding the cage with difficulty, and when you saw your aunt’s face, you knew you had made the right choice

“What is that?”, she asked, pointing at your familiar

“my owl, I just bought it, do you like it?”, you asked simply

“That is not…”, she wanted to fight you but when she saw your “innocent” smile, she knew it was a lost battle already, “I love her”, he said, with a weird fake smile, she sneaked a finger through the bars to pet her, and she bit her

“She bites”, you warned, clearly late, and she just scowled at you

“Let’s get going”, she said, losing her short patience, and you walked behind her, happily

“Basilik!”, you heard, behind you, you turned to meet Draco, your very best friend

“Hey Draco”, you said, smiling softly, he reached you, walking down the alleyway, and his mother walked right behind him. 

“You got your familiar I see, my father bought me an Eagle Owl, fearsome creature”, he said, contented 

Draco eyed your big black owl, with round orange eyes

“Weird creature”, he admired, you giggled

“Be careful!”, you warned, when you saw him try to pet her, “She…”

“Au!”, Draco whined, looking at his bloodied finger

“... bites”, you said, smiling apologetically. Draco just glared at your owl.

“Miss, let me take that for you”, said Meek, the house elf sworn to your family

“Thank you”, you said with a shy smile, and you saw both elf and owl disappear quickly, how were you going to name her?. You kept walking down the street while your mothers spoke

“Do you think any muggleborn will enter Slytherin? I don’t think so, they better not!!”, Draco whispered in your ear, poking his tongue out in sign of disgust

“You are only acting like a tosser because you fear they might be better than you!”, you mocked, trying to change the subject. Draco was your best friend, but when he spoke like that of people, you felt guilty, your chest tightened, you didn’t liked it 

“Yeah sure”, he said bitterly

“Here children, let’s go to Olivander’s”, said Narcissa, grabbing you both by the back of your necks to lead you to the most famous wand maker in the country

You entered the wand shop slowly, it seemed to be empty, but everyone got their wands here, all of them.

An old man was behind the desk, with wild gray hair but kind eyes

The man didn’t even doubt when it came to Draco, he nodded signaling you both to wait with his bony finger, and he went looking for his wand in the back of the store, when he returned, he had in his hand an spotless black box, when it opened, it revealed a perfect shaped wand with a silver handle

“10 inches, hawthorn wood, unicorn core”, he resumed, offering the wand to Draco, he took it, you saw concentration in his hand and the entirety of the wand shined with a golden light. He nodded with a smirk, he had found his wand and it looked like Olivander had made it for himself especially, but you guessed that it was it felt like to everybody

When you looked at the wand maker, he was looking right at you.

“Let’s try this one”, he directed himself to a shelf behind him, he came back with a whitish box in his boney hands

You grabbed the wand he was offering me, it was strange looking, I gave it a wave and a complete book case fell off the wall. You gasped, dropping the wand like it burned 

“Too unyielding”, he said, not even surprised, “strange”, because I was with Draco, he believed you to be deserving of an unyielding wand? you didn't even know what that meant. He looked at you one more time, giving it some thought, and then he went to the back of the store. 

The wand he offered you looked like an ordinary branch picked up from under a tree, you grabbed it in your hand gently, you pointed at no place in particular, and the single flower that was in a pot nearby, died, like immediately, your owl in your shoulder hoot nervously, flapping its wings hitting you in the face 

“NO!”, he said quickly, taking the wand from your hand 

“Sorry”, you whispered, even if it wasn’t my choice. His cloudy eyes met your face one more time, he seemed to be deeply analyzing you

“Let’s see”, he said, waggling his finger, he grabbed a box from a pile on his desk, and he gave it to you, it was a dark brown wand, it look like two branches had come together, twirling, melted together, the handle had metallic details imbedded in the wood. It was quite breathtaking

You held it and you looked at it, you felt as it had a life on it’s own, and it had taken to you, it shined just like draco’s

“Funny”, the man muttered, looking at you through his piercing blue eyes, “same core as your friend’s, unicorn, it’s twelve and half inches, very pliant, maple wood, unicorn hair core”, he resumed, “the maple wood is considered for adventurous wizards, it will polish and nurture  itself as greater it becomes, just like the witch learns new spells”, he said, and you felt pretty proud, this was your wand, it was pretty cool, and the matching core with Draco it turned it even cooler 

“Thank you Sr”, you said with a wide smile, admiring your wand 

“Remember little witch, the wand chooses the wizard, this wand called me this morning, knowing her owner was close”, he smiled and you, and you thanked him

You looked at each other

“A matching core between friends means that you will never be able to harm one another”, he said wisely, “that is indeed very rare”, Draco smirked at you, and you smiled back at him. 

“You don’t believe that do you?”, mocked Draco just as you closed the door of Ollivander’s behind you

“I don’t know, sounds pretty cool to me”, you giggled. 

“We have an appointment with Madam Malkin, sweety”, called my aunt, “to make your robes for school”, she said excitedly, squeezing your shoulders

And you turned to one less busy street, and soon you were before an impressive seamstress shop, elegant and classy. “Madam Malkin's robes for all occasions”, in golden letters shone over a black pain on top of the door. A small bell rang when you entered, and behind a counter a lady with dark hair, glasses and a handmade suit were waiting for you

“Ah! Narcissa darling! So good to see you! Is that Draco? a handsome little man he has become”, her voice was thunderous and high pitched, it made you want to cover your ears

“Isn’t he? we are here to get his robes for his first years at Hogwarts”, she said proudly, and then, she looked down at you

“And who is this sweetling?”

“(Y/N) Basilik”, presented your aunt

“She is so delicious, come, come!”, 

And as this lady placed you and Draco on a literal pedestal and took your measures. But then the door rang and she went away to receive the guests as your aunts went away to the other section of the store to gaze at party dress robes.

A boy joined you both at fitting, he had pitch black messy hair and hid two big green eyes behind round glasses. Madam Malkin begin to measure him too

You shared funny looks with Draco, he clearly was a first year just like you, and he was obviously going to HOgwarts too

“Hullo”, greeted Draco, you can tell he was excited, “Hogwarts too?”

“Yes”, hes answered sharply, focusing on his image in the mirror

“We already got our wands and our books”, you shipped in, “did you?”

“Not yet”, he answered simply 

“We are going to see riding brooms next…”, said Draco, the boy didn’t seem to be particularly interested in speaking to you, which you thought was a bit sad, the more friends and people you knew in your first year the better right?

“... We don’t know why first years can’t have their own. We are thinking about bullying my father into buying me one, then figuring out how to sneak it into the castle”, you smiled widely and nodded enthusiastically, the boy just looked back at you like you had two heads 

“Have you got your own broom?”, you asked him

“No”, he answered

“Do you play Quidditch?”, asked Draco, still trying to make him engage with you 

“No”, he answered again, and you wanted to make Draco stop trying to talk to him, he was clearly mean an uninterested

“We do, my father says it’s a crime if we aren’t picked to play for our house, and I must say, I agree. You know what House you’ll be in yet?”, he pressed 

“no”, he said, like he was being quizzed by his governess 

“Well nobody really knows until they get there, do they?”, you offered, perhaps he didn’t know what we were speaking about, but… who didn’t know Quidditch? or how Hogwarts worked?, “but we are going to be in Slytherin, you looked at Draco, surprised, “all my family has been - imagine being in Hufflepuff”, he mocked looking at you, you giggled, “I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”, he mumbled a response, looking clearly lost 

“Look at that man!”, interrupted Draco, you three turned to the window, to see a huge man standing outside, with icecreams in his hands, he was a giant!

“That’s Hagrid”, answered the boy, finally saying something with more content, “He works at Hogwarts”

Oh Rubeus Hagrid! you had heard him being mentioned in your aunt’s “nice people” list regarding Hogwarts staff 

“I heard of him”, you chided smiling at the nice-looking man

“He is kind of a servant, isn’t he?”, asked Draco

“He is the Gamekeeper”, he snapped back, frowning

“What is a Gamekeeper?”, you asked 

“He is some sort of a savage”, said Drco bluntly, “he lives in a hut in the woods and takes care of the grounds sometimes he gets drunk, tries to do magic and sets fire to his bed”, he mocked

“REALLY?”, you started wondering if all gamekeepers tended to do such things, or was it only him, why did they call them game-keepers anyways? Did they organize games for the students or something?

“I think he is brilliant”, defended the boy, and to Draco it finally sinked in that he was not going to become his friend 

“Do you?”, sneered Draco, he was not becoming his friend and he was acting accordingly, “why is he here with you, where are your parents?”, he asked again

“They are dead”, an awkward silence dominated the three of you as a magic tailor’s tape finished taking your measures 

“I’m sorry”, you and Draco said at the same time, for you it was a familiar feeling, for Draco as well as he sympathized with you 

“But they were our kind were they?”, asked Draco, the final straw if to see if this kid was going to become a friend or… not

“They were a Witch and a Wizard, if that’s what you mean”, he said, clearly annoyed 

“I really don;t think they should let the other sort in, do you? they are not the same, they have never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families, what’s your surname anyways”, you watched the boy intently, to see his reaction, he was even more annoyed 

Before he could answer, Madam Malkin came back, and he hopped off the pedestal and almost ran away from the both of you following the Madam 

“See you at Hogwarts”, you offered with a smile, you really hoped you didn’t, he seemed boring and mean. You got distracted when Madame Malkin came back here again and pieces of fabric flied from the shelves and to your body, you giggled when a turmoil of thread, fabrics, and silver needle all guided by that woman dressed you in your school uniform

“Will they go to Slytherin?”, she asked

“Of course”, is the only thing you heard 

 Then Narcissa took you to a Belgium tea shop, where of course Draco and you indulged in Belgium chocolate, drinking it, and eating as much as you could. Uncle Lucius met you there with the rest of Draco’s things 

And then your aunt took you home

And when your parents died, she became your guardian, she took you in when you were barely a baby, your father on his side had no known relatives, and on your mother’s side she was the only one, her and your grandfather that lived in France. And you were being raised in your family home.

She has given you a comfortable life, your family lineage on your mother’s side assure her, you and many generations to come would live comfortably without having to work a day in your life. Your family had gathered their fortune not only through centuries, but they were big in the beauty potions and creams that come from century-old spells and family recipes. Your family had a magical cosmetics company basically, that was handled by your second grade uncles and aunts

Your parents died when you were barely a baby, in the first Wizarding war, but your aunt never liked to discuss it, and you didn’t want to even ask. You felt something was wrong, she’d say she will tell you about it when you are older, alongside the identity of your father

So you never asked again.

Deep down you preferred it, not knowing, but you were curious 

But you didn’t want to dwell on this.

Tomorrow, you started at Hogwarts, something to keep your mind occupied 

School for witchcraft and wizardry

You were excited, so excited you could barely sleep, you already knew a few of your classmates, you had met them in Malfoy’s parties and balls. 

You were longing to meet new people, make friends, but most of all, you were dying to learn spells, use magic, make potions, you were looking forwards to it

Your owl hooted by the window where you placed her cage, and you looked at her huge orange eyes. How were you going to name her?

Shadow? Nah, too boring

Umbra

It meant shadow in Romanian 

You liked that, she looked like a shadow, perched in her silver cage. 

You were so nervous you actually prepared everything for the next day, and put everything in a black leather trunk in order, your aunt wanted Meek to do it the next day, but you were so excited, you even sat on the carpet and peeked rough your books, transfigurations! and magical animals! oh Merlin you were so excited! what you were going to wear tomorrow to get to the Station?

Tomorrow, it was going to be the start of a new life.