#It's one of these moments that seem impressive enough on surface level

[miihho]

can you pleaseeee write type of guy for gi hun? bro is underrated in his own show 😔🙏

The Kind Of Guy

Seong Gi-hun

SFW

—Gi-hun is the kind of guy who falls in love with kindness and personality, drawn to the way someone makes him feel seen and understood. It's not about looks or grand gestures for him—it's the little things, the quiet moments that reveal a person’s true heart. He admires how you treat others with warmth and kindness, how your laughter can light up a room, and how your compassion extends even to those who may not deserve it.

He’s captivated by your authenticity, your ability to stay true to yourself in a world that often demands conformity. The way you listen intently when he speaks, offering gentle advice without judgment, leaves a lasting impression on him.

Gi-hun isn’t easily won over by surface-level charm; what matters most to him is how you make him feel—safe, valued, and loved for who he truly is. He would slowly become captivated by you, his love for you deepening as he watches you simply be yourself. There’s something about your genuine nature that pulls him in more with each passing day.

—If Gi-hun was tired from work, he’d be the kind of guy who just wanted to be wrapped up in your warmth. He’d quietly rest his head on your thighs or lap, finding comfort in your presence alone.

Sometimes, he’d drape his entire body over yours, seeking solace in the gentle rise and fall of your breathing. Nothing made him feel more at peace than when your fingers ran through his hair, your soft touch melting away his exhaustion. A tender kiss on his forehead would be the final thing to undo him, leaving him weak and completely at ease.

In those moments, with his worries fading and your arms around him, he’d fall into a deep, contented sleep, feeling safe and loved like never before.

—If life became too overwhelming and you came running to him, Gi-hun would immediately pull you into his arms, holding you tightly as if shielding you from the world. He’d gently pet your hair, his touch soothing and filled with love.

He’d press soft kisses to your temple and wipe away your tears, his fingers carefully brushing your hair out of your face. Looking deeply into your eyes, he’d whisper, “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. I’ve got you.” while cupping your face with his hands. And with that, he’d kiss your forehead, grounding you with his warmth and reassurance, making you feel like everything would be alright as long as he was by your side.

—Gi-hun adores when you sit on his lap, the weight of you resting gently against him as if you were meant to be there. He looks up at you with a soft, almost reverent gaze, as if trying to memorize every detail of the moment—your eyes, the curve of your smile, the way your presence seems to calm his restless heart.

His hands find their way to your waist or thighs, a subtle gesture of possessiveness mixed with tenderness, as he pulls you in a little closer, savoring the closeness. He doesn’t need words in moments like these; just the warmth of your body against his and the quiet intimacy between you two is enough. He knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be, holding the one person who makes everything feel right.

—If he had the means, he’d spoil you with everything you could ever dream of. No wish would be too small or too big; if it made you happy, he’d make sure you had it. Whether it’s a simple treat or an extravagant gift, nothing would stop him from seeing that smile on your face, because making you happy is his greatest joy.

—His age might be a little older, but not by too much—just enough for him to carry that sense of maturity and wisdom that comes with experience. He would treat you right in every way, with a gentleness that made you feel cherished. Whether it was peeling oranges for you, slicing apples with care, or making sure you felt like royalty, he'd always go the extra mile to make you feel special. He would treat you like a princess, and in turn, you'd feel like a queen in his presence.

—So imagine being in his arms, both of you just there—naked not in body but in the vulnerability of the moment. There’s no rush, no need for anything more, just the simple act of caressing each other, feeling the warmth of your skin against his while soft whispers will fill the space between you. He craves the connection that goes beyond desire, cherishing your raw presence, the way you make him feel whole just by being near him. The simplicity of it all, the quiet affection, would be enough to fill both your hearts.

—If you drift off to sleep on the couch, he would gently lift you in his arms, carrying you upstairs to your bed. With tender care, he'd lay you down and tuck you in snugly beneath a warm blanket, making sure you’re comfortable before quietly leaving the room.

—If you were feeling down, he’d do everything he could to lift your spirits. He’d grab a silly mask, crack a joke, or pull a funny face just to see you smile. When he asked what was wrong and you shared your worries, he’d pull you into a warm embrace, holding you close as he whispered nothing but reassuring words into your ears.

He's the kind of guy who justs wants is to be next to you—your hands locked together, your legs comfortably tangled. He wants your face nestled in his neck, the rhythm of your breathing the only sound in the quiet room.

He wants to feel you stir, mumbling, “I’m so tired,” so he can softly whisper, “Go back to sleep,” holding you closer as you drift off again.

He dreams of those peaceful early mornings, lying beside you in the stillness, maybe reading a book while you rest. Or maybe just running his fingers gently through your hair, watching over you as a soft smile tugs at his lips, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

—He would, will, and IS going to love you bare and raw—unfiltered and unapologetic, accepting every part of you. No pretenses, no facades, just the real, unpolished version of who you are. He would love you with the same vulnerability, never asking you to hide any part of yourself.

In his arms, you’d feel like you could be completely yourself, exposed and imperfect, but cherished all the same. His love would be unconditional, free from judgment, because in his eyes, you are perfect just as you are.

—If he saw you joining the game with him, absolute terror would wash over him. The moment his eyes locked with yours, knowing you'd willingly entered a nightmare he had already endured, his heart would race in panic. He’d grab your shoulders, eyes wide with fear, demanding, “Why are you here?!” His voice would crack, trying to make sense of it all, his only concern now being to get you out of this mess.

He’d scold you, his tone harsh with worry, “What were you thinking!? This isn’t just a game!” His words would come from a place of raw fear, a desperate attempt to push you away from the danger that loomed. His fear would intensify, each second passing a terrifying reminder of what this game could cost.

He would do anything—anything at all—to get you out of there. The thought of losing you, of seeing you hurt, would tear him apart. He couldn’t lose you; he just couldn’t. A part of him would feel like it was slipping away, that his very soul was in jeopardy. His heart would be racing, consumed by the fear of a future without you. No, no—he couldn’t lose you. He would be scared in ways he never knew he could be, completely helpless, yet still trying to protect you at all costs.

—If Gi Hun had a crush on you, he’d be a mess trying to hide it. He’d stutter a little over his words, his sentences barely making sense as he tried to keep his composure. When he was around you, he’d find it impossible to focus, his mind racing in a million directions. He’d try his best to play it cool, but his nervousness would be all too obvious. The way his cheeks would flush, the small awkward laughs, and the way he couldn’t meet your eyes for too long would give him away.

No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t handle being around you without his feelings spilling out. His every attempt to act casual would fail, and deep down, he’d be embarrassed, but he couldn’t help it. You had him completely flustered, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, he’d always end up wearing his heart on his sleeve.

—When faced with dangerous people, he would immediately step in front of you, positioning himself as a shield. His instincts would be to protect you at all costs, and he’d put himself between you and any threat, no hesitation in his movements. He would hide you behind his back, ensuring that you were out of harm’s way, his body acting as the barrier to keep you safe.

—When Gi Hun confesses to you, it would be a heartfelt moment that he’s carefully planned out, even if his nerves are getting the best of him. He’d send you a text or a letter asking you to meet him at a specific place, and when you arrived, you’d find him standing there, waiting for you. His eyes would light up as soon as he saw you, a spark of excitement and love shining through, though he’d be hiding something behind his back, his nervousness mixed with anticipation.

He’d take a deep breath before speaking, his voice filled with sincerity as he gave you a long, heartfelt explanation. He’d tell you why he likes you, why he fell in love with you—how your kindness, your smile, the way you light up his world, all made him realize just how much you meant to him. It would be a genuine, vulnerable confession, his emotions raw and unfiltered.

Finally, after pouring his heart out, he’d take a step closer to you, holding out the things you love—small tokens of thoughtfulness, gestures that show how much he’s paying attention to the little things about you. With a nervous yet hopeful look, he’d finally ask you out if you want to be his.

You’d be standing there, overwhelmed by his honesty and the sweetness of the moment, in awe and shock, but without a doubt, your heart would race as you say “Yes.”

—He’s the kind of guy who’ll wander into the kitchen just to be close to you. He’d wrap his arms around you from behind, pressing his face into the curve of your neck to breathe in your scent, his embrace warm and unyielding. He’d nuzzle you gently, turning you around to face him with that look in his eyes—hungry, not just for food, but for you.

Even as soap dripped from your hands, he wouldn’t care. He’d guide your hands to his hair, leaning into your touch, and silently begging for your kiss. In his world, no moment was too mundane for intimacy; even standing in the kitchen, you were the center of his hunger, his affection, his everything.

NSFW

—Steamy shower sex is one of Jun Ho's absolute favorites, and he revels in every moment of it with you. Water drips down your skin, warm and relentless, as your bodies collide with a fervor that borders on desperate. The heat between you burns hotter than the steam surrounding you, and Gi Hun pulls you closer, his chest pressed firmly against yours.

Your back meets the cold tiles with a sharp gasp, the chill a perfect contrast to the fire coursing through your veins. Your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist, locking him in place as if the space between you could ever be enough. Your arms drape over his shoulders, hands buried in his damp hair, tugging gently, urging him closer still.

His hands are everywhere, tracing your curves, memorizing your body like a sacred scripture he’s afraid to forget. His lips would come crashing into yours, urgent and consuming, tasting every part of you he can claim.

—He loves the feeling of your bare skin against his, the intimacy of having you completely, utterly his. Every curve, every line of your body only deepens his admiration, leaving him in awe of the woman he’s so lucky to call his. As he moves with you, his hands trace your face with reverence, his eyes locked on yours, drinking in every expression, every breath, every sound, and every moan you make.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice heavy with a mix of passion and disbelief, “you’re so beautiful baby, my beautiful wife.” His gaze lingered on you with an intensity that spoke of his love, each moment deepening as he continued to hit your sweet spot. Then, drawing closer, he leaned in to taste you once more, savoring every sensation.

—In bed, Gi hun would never resort to calling you derogatory names like 'slut' or 'whore.' That’s just not the kind of man he is, and you are not that type of woman. Instead, he showers you with sweet pet names—'sweetheart,' 'princess,' 'baby' 'angel'— and praises you as he makes love to you.

—Gi-hun wouldn't even realize he had a kink until you whispered how good he was at making you feel pleasure. Each word dripped with desire, and the happiness washing over him was palpable—every “good boy” igniting something deep within.

“Such a good boy for me, baby haa-fuck, making me feel so good,” you moaned, arching your back. Your nails clawed at his back, the sensation driving him wild, making him groan deeply.

His ego swelled with each sound you made, compelling him to thrust harder, faster, hungry for your praise. “I want to hear you say it again,” he said, his voice laced with desperation as he struggled to maintain control. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

“Hngg—you’re doing so well for me baby, haah—such a good boy, my good boy.” Your encouragement spurred him on, each thrust becoming more erratic. He focused on the visceral connection at the junction of your bodies, the creamy ring around him and the warm, slick remnants pooling onto the sheets—the evidence of your shared ecstasy driving him towards the edge once more.

“I can’t... Fuck I can’t hold back,” he stammered, the need to please you overwhelming his senses. “You’re so tight baby—you feel so good.. so fucking perfect for me.”

Profanities spilled from his lips as he fell into a primal rhythm, slamming into you from behind. The room filled with the symphony of loud squelches and the creaking of the bed under the force of his fervent thrusts.

“i love you s'much keep fucking me like that baby,” you urged, your breath ragged. His sensitivity heightened with every flutter of your walls around him, his vision blurring as black spots danced in and out of focus. A strangled moan caught in his throat as he found his release, filling you completely with his cum, the warmth spilling inside like melted marshmallows, soft and indulgent.

"haa..fuck—you feel so good baby, ’so good.” he breathed out as he rode out his climax. His arms trembling, feeling you milk every last drop from him, as he collapsed onto you, a huff escaping his lips, “Did I do good baby?”

"Mhm, You did such a good job love." a wide smile formed on his lips.

—If you take him into your mouth, he can’t help but moan loudly, lost in the intoxicating warmth of your lips and tongue. Each flick and swirl drives him wild, and he sputters curses in pure pleasure, praising how good you make him feel and how perfectly your mouth envelops him

—He’s the type of guy who fears hurting you at first, but once you tell him it’s okay, he starts off slow and gentle, relishing the feel of your dripping wet pussy around him. But as he gets lost in the thrill, his aggression takes over, and he’s pounding into you with a rougher, relentless pace, turning you into a moaning, writhing mess beneath him.

[familyagrestefanblog]

Chat Noir in THAT moment of "Revolution"

May I say with every inch of my heart: fucking THANK YOU Adrien for speaking up to give the governmental and systemically oppressed civilans who think themselves the helpless victims of a normal but highly corrupted, extremely dangerous and selfish person in their mayor’s position an actual VOICE.

And he even did it in probably the savest and most orderly way as well, which ensured that Chloé can neither use the citizens’ reaction against the people themselves nor dismiss it overall because every other approach but EXACTLY what Adrien did here would have resulted in some variation of a chaotic sea of voices and opinions contradicting and clashing each other in various degrees of intensity, favoritism, audibility and spoken CONTENT, in an environment where people could have then freely spoken against and FOR Chloè too.

Ladybug and Chat Noir showing up in a political situation like THIS to get the people on their side to rise up against the corrupted mayor by taking full control of the whole situation should have been an almost IMPOSSIBLE feat to accomplish this quickly and smoothly in execution because a political scenario like this is a literal MINEFIELD as we saw at the end of the last episode. One wrong word and everything could have ended up in total madness that would have either taken a serious amout of time and effort to get back under control or outright through FORCE (or both)

But Adrien was just out here and did it in 5 seconds FLAT.

Thank you Adrien for taking the massive value of your status as Chat Noir into your own hands and acting as the politically most competent and most effective fucker in this entire mess of a situation (besides Lila but that’s a given) as Chloè’s true foil in this entire episode.

You know I would never use the word “perfect” to describe Adrien as a person but I’ve gotta be honest, the way so many massive delicate factors of how to approach not only a political conflict but a full on governmental escalation like this - were a whole sea of angered people have to be lead to speak as a unit - were immediately NAILED with this ONE perfectly timed and worded sentence and this ONE striking hand gesture was pretty fucking close to perfection. Ladybug and Mayor Chloé were having a hero-villain akuma pissing contest of moralities and Chat Noir just pulled all of that back into harsh reality with one swift action to actually give the power back to the people. Let’s fucking GO!

That was the most effective, competent, responsible and situation-appropriate (and that in corrupted POLITICS) leadership action being taken in the entire episode and it was done in 5 seconds flat by Chat Noir who eagerly wanted to intervene since right the beginning of the episode. No wasting time holding a speech, no unnecessary hero smack talk, no showmanship and no personal verbal morality battles. Just using his status to act as a leader for the civilian people so they can join him to act as one strong unit no matter their age, voice volume, body height, strength etc, 👏it 👏did👏 not👏 matter. 👏

(only people without arms would have been excluded, if you really wanna nit-pick)

He did everything so fucking RIGHT in that moment. Through providing them with a clear-cut language and morality standpoint from his part - without making it about himself-, an easy and situation-specific & very fast, universal and practical but also very impactful way to communicate their game-changing opinion for this ONE specific point he names very forthright and that calls the problem right out on it’s core, so Chloè and the people who support her have no wiggle room to shut it down or dismiss it through pocking holes by claiming people could have misinterpreted what he meant.

5 fucking seconds. PLEASE make it entire episodes!

[ineadhyn]

One of Astarion's most interesting scenes to me is the one in the flop house where we meet Dalyria and Petras. So, obviously, I felt the need to analyze it.

Astarion's behaviour switches the very moment he recognises his siblings. He has been snappy and theatrical before, but this now feels different. More raw. His posture changes, he bends forward in a pose like he's ready to attack. The moment he sees them, he enters fight mode.

And indeed, he does attack. He immediately goes for Petras, aiming for the weak spots he knows, his intelligence. It's bite or be bitten. If he doesn't do it (a choice you can make in his origin run for example) Petras does just the same, insulting Astarion using his known flaws: his arrogance, his egoism, claiming Astarion is all talk. This tells so much about Astarions life with them.

Dalyria is a bit calmer, she seems to care about both of them, at least enough that she doesn't want to see either of them killed. Dalyria does believe Cazador's claim of freeing them at least on surface level. She can be convinced to trust Astarion when he says he'll free them. She wants to be free. Asking why Astarion would come back if he was free, there is a certain longing in her voice. She's also the one telling Astarion about the ritual place, hoping Astarion might actually be able to free them, or at least not kill Petras.

Still the aggression in the room is not only between Astarion and Petras. Astarion also snaps at Dalyria when she's barely said anything. "That's not a way to welcome back a brother, Dal." The three of them are like dogs in the kennels of a dog fighting ring, barking at the sight of each other. Trained to compete and not giving each other an inch. You can imagine what it must have been like sharing one bedroom.

Then Astarion does his theatrical "Didn't you miss me?" Did they? Probably as much as Astarion pities them. A bit, because they've known each other for so long, but not enough to go out of their way. Just after saying he pities them, Astarion dreams about completing the ritual (which includes sacrificing them). Mostly I see the "Didn't you miss me" as Astarion wanting to make a confident first impression on them. Although it's too late, because his first instinct was to pull up his usual defences when interacting with his siblings: snapping at them.

And then Astarion actually gets physically aggressive and burns Petras. This is new. Petras didn't expect this. He says "What the hells happened to you, Astarion?" In combination with the other spawn scene when they call Astarion the runt, that never put up a fight, this paints a clear picture: Astarion has never been physically aggressive during his time with Cazador. Probably because he didn't have the means. He was simply too weak, being tortured more than any of the others. Petras talks about eating rats and dogs, Astarion got rats and bugs (he says that when talking about the bite with Tav). Also of course being broken into submission by being sealed into the tomb for the one time he didn't obey. (Worthy to mention that even then Astarion did not fight, he ran.)

Now that Astarion has some power for the first time, he uses it. And holy damn can I understand why he wants more. How good it must feel to be able to defend himself with more than words for the first time. This bit of power makes him say "I am not afraid of anything anymore."

It's enough for him to say "I am going to stop Cazador." A thing none of the spawn expects of him. Astarion would never rebel against the master. Cazador himself doesn't believe it until his last moment. They were all wrong about Astarion. Cazador indeed never broke him.

Also, pay attention to the leaning forward pose. Astarion does that on multiple occasions. It's his "my instinct screams to fight and defend myself"-pose.

(I am not entirely sure if "do not slouch before me" is also referring the same pose, or if it's more of an instinct to bow or cower. But that's for another day.)

[mya-valentine]

Headcannon: Dabi with a Bitchy S/O

Dabi is drawn to his S/O’s sharp, no-nonsense attitude. They’re unapologetically blunt and always have a cutting remark ready for anyone who crosses them. Dabi finds it amusing and sometimes even admires how confidently they carry themselves, never afraid to speak their mind.

They don’t sugarcoat anything with him, which he finds refreshing. Everyone else either fears him or tries to manipulate him, but his S/O? They’ll call him out without hesitation, snapping, “Get your act together, Dabi,” when they feel he’s slacking or being reckless. He secretly enjoys the challenge they present and loves that they’re not intimidated by him.

Their sass and attitude actually balance out Dabi’s own sarcastic nature. They constantly throw shade at each other, engaging in verbal sparring matches that usually end with a smirk on Dabi’s face. “You’re in a mood today,” he’ll quip after one of their bitchy remarks, and they’ll roll their eyes, “Aren’t I always?”

His S/O doesn’t tolerate nonsense from anyone, not even Dabi. If he tries to push their buttons or act smug, they’ll shut him down in a second, snapping back with a biting comment that leaves him momentarily speechless. It annoys him, but he also can’t help but find it attractive—they’re not afraid to stand up to him.

Despite their prickly exterior, Dabi can see through his S/O’s tough front. He knows that their bitchy attitude is often a defense mechanism, and while he never says it out loud, he appreciates that they’re strong enough to handle the harsh world they live in. It’s one of the reasons he respects them so much.

His S/O is the type to roll their eyes when Dabi gets too broody or dramatic. “Oh, please. Are we doing this again?” they’ll sigh when he gets too lost in his dark thoughts. While it may seem harsh, their bluntness actually grounds Dabi, reminding him not to spiral too deep. It’s their way of caring without getting all soft about it.

In public, they act like they’re constantly annoyed by Dabi’s antics, scoffing and throwing sarcastic insults his way. But behind closed doors, their dynamic is different. There’s a certain level of trust and understanding between them, and while they might still throw shade at each other, there’s an unspoken bond that neither of them would admit out loud.

Dabi is often amused by how his S/O handles other people. They don’t care about anyone else’s opinions and will be openly bitchy toward anyone who tries to mess with them. Dabi finds it hilarious when his S/O tears someone down with a well-placed insult, and he’ll watch with a smirk, impressed by their sharp tongue.

His S/O’s tough exterior keeps most people at arm’s length, but Dabi loves the fact that he’s one of the few who can actually get past it. Even if they don’t show it often, he knows they care about him, and he enjoys being the person they let their guard down around (even if they’ll never fully admit it).

Dabi’s favorite moments are when his S/O’s bitchy facade cracks for just a second. Whether it’s a fleeting smile or a softer comment, those rare moments show him that there’s more to them than their sharp edges. He won’t call them out on it, though—he knows better than to push.

While they might seem mismatched on the surface, Dabi and his S/O’s relationship works because they both respect each other’s toughness. They’ve each been through their own struggles, and their shared cynicism about the world bonds them. Beneath the sarcastic comments and bitchy remarks, there’s an unspoken loyalty that runs deep.

.

.

.

Masterlist

[blood-orange-juice]

I suddenly groked why Childe's friendship with the Traveler is important to me. It makes him look more inhuman.

Same with his attachments in general. It all looks so sweet on the surface but this is *not* how humans handle attachments.

Humans are awkward, and afraid to admit they like someone, and they want reciprocity, and they are careful about how a new person will affect their life. They are very cautious about placing their trust in someone even if they like them. They often lie for the sake of maintaining the relationship.

And then there's this guy who loudly declares you a friend the moment he starts liking you enough, expects nothing in return and seems to trust almost blindly (personally, I think it's calculated risk rather than that, but it still removes the usual weight of trusting someone). Who is honest and straightforward in ways that don't really benefit him. And it's not exactly hero worship (he has that towards Skirk and Capitano and we know it looks differently), he just sees someone like himself in the main character.

His other relationships (siblings and Her Majesty) could have been interpreted in multiple ways but his attachment to the Traveler establishes those as genuine and more on the warm side too.

(and more weird)

We also get reminded that he isn't nice even when he likes a person, he still has his weird ideals and obligations and doesn't compromise on those.

If he was a brooding loner or someone more sociopathic in his approach it would be too easy to clock him as a traumatised kid or at least a flawed human. The way he relates to the Traveler very clearly establishes him as more than that.

I've also seen takes on how he doesn't really love his siblings, he just wants to be the best in everything and that includes being the best older brother. That would be awfully human, too, I think.

It's a subtle distinction, fae beings can be obsessed with beauty and perfection but not with being the best. A desire to be the best is a narcissistic dynamic, it's painfully human and rooted in insecurity.

(he says and shows multiple times how he doesn't seek narcissistic fuel at all, even on an average human level. he seeks improvement but doesn't really care about winning or impressing other people

he's also committed to doing the best he can without being worried about perfection in the current moment)

He loves them dearly and he's doing what's best for them as he understands it, but it doesn't matter whether they love him or whether anyone else including them thinks he's a good brother.

So we once again get a lovely paradox with him. Everything is the opposite of what it seems.

Could be read as a different form of trauma or just arrogance, of course, but also it connects him to other Abyssal beings (Elynas, Durin, Caribert to an extent too. one could say Enjou as well). Horrors of Teyvat love with no reservations but also it doesn't mean what you think it means.

[vnti-vnxiety-recs]

Chasing Shadows

★ PAIRING: Frat!Jeno x Goth!Reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 1K

★ GENRE(S): Strangers to ???

☆ SUMMARY: You meet a lost frat boy at a rave, and even though your interaction is brief, you leave a strong impression on him. Your playful banter and mysterious smile spark his interest.

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Mentions of drinking.

☆★ NOTES: This one is for my fellow alternative nctizens. Gotta get some representation in there for us. Feedback appretatied!

You loved your platform boots, but they made it incredibly challenging to traverse the woods. You almost twisted your ankle a few times while searching for the party deeper among the trees. Raves were your escape—you relished losing yourself in the music and dancing the night away. However, reaching some of those remote locations could be an ordeal. Tonight's rave was nestled in the heart of the forest, and with every step, the choice of wearing your Demonia boots was beginning to feel like a mistake. Just as you were starting to lose hope, you caught sight of the twinkling lights strung between the trees, guiding you toward the designated dance floor and DJ booth.

You were supposed to meet a few friends here, but they hadn’t arrived yet. Still, you were perfectly content dancing alone while waiting for them. A little tipsy, you lost yourself in the rhythm, until you lost your breath. Your drunken mind urged you to explore the area. You anticipated encountering a few oddities in the middle of the woods, but what you stumbled upon in a small clearing not too far from the dance floor was the strangest sight you had ever seen.

In the midst of the pulsating beats and swirling lights of the rave, you stumbled upon a most peculiar sight: a frat boy, looking completely out of place. You raised an eyebrow, certain those guys wouldn't dare be caught dead in the “weird” crowd.

“You lost?” you asked with a smirk.

He looked up from his phone, shuffling nervously as if the forest floor might swallow him whole. “No, I’m certain it’s around here. I’m looking for a party.”

“Well, there’s a rave deeper in the woods,” you said, stepping closer, your curiosity piqued. “But it doesn’t seem like that’s what you’re after.”

He hesitated, glancing back at the trees as if they might whisper the answer. “Hmm, that could be it? I don’t know; my brothers sent me this location… said it was supposed to be a frat party.”

“So, you’re lost,” you declared with a hint of mischief in your voice. You took another step closer, studying him with intrigued eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Jeno,” he replied, a mixture of desperation and hope flashing across his face.

The first thing you noticed was how strikingly handsome he was, but there was something else about him that caught your eye—how… normal he looked? "Normal" wasn't quite the right word, as he certainly surpassed any conventional level of attractiveness. Yet Jeno definitely didn’t fit into your crowd. He was the epitome of a textbook frat boy, and it was almost jarring to see him here among the eclectic chaos of the rave.

Jeno wasn’t your type at all. You were drawn to the kind of guys who carried an intriguing emptiness in their gaze, a flicker of something dark swirling just beneath the surface. Jeno was the complete opposite of that. He looked like a golden retriever—innocent and eager, full of boundless energy—but for some inexplicable reason, you felt a magnetic pull, an itch to reach out and play with this unexpectedly charming puppy.

“Can I see the flyer?” you ask, and he eagerly thrusts his phone in your direction. As you scan it, your brow furrows. “This says Friday… today’s Saturday.” You meet his gaze, the truth dawning on him. “I think you missed it.”

The expression that washes over his face is priceless, a mix of shock and disbelief, and you have to stifle a laugh. Poor guy, you think—he's had enough misfortune for one night; the last thing you want is to laugh in his face.

He exhales a sigh of disappointment, his shoulders drooping for a moment before he lights up again. “But there’s a party tonight, right? Might as well go!”

“Well, sorry if this sounds rude,” you say, eyeing his frat boy attire that looks like a glaring neon sign in the dark sea of heavy silver jewelry and smudged eyeliner around you, “but this doesn’t exactly look like your kind of scene.” You raise an eyebrow, amused by the stark contrast he presents amidst the crowd

“Beer is beer,” he shrugs, that easy grin still plastered on his face. “Plus, you guys are cool. I really like your makeup.” His compliment feels genuine, and despite the ongoing chaos of the party around you, his enthusiasm softens the edges of the night.

He was sweet.

You take a moment to appreciate the contrast between his sunny disposition and the heavy, ghoulish makeup you’ve gone for tonight. With your lips tinted black, you can't help but return his smile, the boldness of your look amplifying the brightness of your teeth. “I could do yours sometime,” you flirt, the words rolling off your tongue with an unexpected confidence.

“I really think the black lipstick would look good on me,” Jeno comments, that smirk never leaving his face. He’s either brave or wildly oblivious, but the way he leans into the banter makes your heart flutter.

“You think so? Only one way to find out,” you tease, letting a playful lilt escape your voice, hoping he would get the hint.

Instead of stepping back, he crowds a little closer, closing the distance between you two. He leans down, his eyes locking onto yours with surprising intensity. “Right here,” he says, pointing to his cheek, as if he's inviting you to paint your work of art on him.

A spark ignites between you, an unexpected thrill bubbling beneath the surface, and you can’t help but smile wider. “Alright, but you have to promise me you’ll rock it,” you reply.

You smile and gently cup his face with both hands, feeling a thrill course through you as you lean in to plant a kiss on his cheek. Pulling back slightly to admire your handiwork, you can’t help but agree—your black lipstick looks stunning against his skin.

With a playful glint in your eye, you lean in again and give him a quick peck on the lips, leaving your mark there as well. You pull back and watch as he chases your lips; a wicked smile spreads across your face at the sight of him.

“Hmm… I’m not sure it really suits you,” you tease, using your thumb to smudge the imprint you left on his lips, giving them a slightly tousled, used look.

Finally, you let him go and take a step back, reveling in the way he stands there, utterly stunned.

“Where are you going?” he calls out, his voice cutting through the pulsating bass of the party as he watches your retreating figure.

“I’m waiting on my friends; I need to head back,” you reply, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his curiosity evident as you walk away.

“I'll see you around,” you call back, a mysterious smile playing on your lips, leaving him intrigued as you blend back into the lively throng of the party.

[wordingg]

Let's Get Vengeful

Day Three of Dead Boy Ween! Prompt: Disguises

Summary: Charles and Edwin tap into their worst emotions to disguise themselves as vengeful ghosts. Certainly, nothing could go wrong.

“If the wanker is collecting vengeful ghosts, why don’t we disguise ourselves as vengeful ghosts to lure him in?”

As bad ideas go, Charles was king. He knew that, Edwin knew that, even Crystal knew that after only knowing him for a short period of time. But, even he could admit with time and the power of hindsight, that this was probably one of his worst ideas to date.

“Charles, that might be one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard,” Edwin said crossly from where he was seated behind the big solid oak desk.

“Okay, hold on, slow your roll,” Crystal said, holding a hand up to forestall the rest of what Edwin was about to say. “None of us have any better ideas, so let’s just hear him out, okay?” she gave Edwin a warning look which he returned with a scathing eye roll, but Charles ignored that. That was baby level Crystal/Edwin bickering. He could ignore that in his sleep. If he did sleep, which he didn’t, seeing as he was dead and all.

“Right, okay,” Charles said, rubbing his hands together. It was his time to shine, both of his favorite people had their eyes focused on him, and he was ready to impress them both. “Like I said, this arsehole wants vengeful ghosts? Why don’t we give him some to hunt? You can plant some rumors about poltergeist activity online, Crystal. We know which message boards he’s been watching. And then I can disguise myself as a vengeful ghost to lure him in and then bam! We’ve caught him!”

Charles looked between the two of them with a grin. Edwin was wrinkling his nose like he smelled something bad, which was funny because neither of them had much sense of smell anymore and Crystal was rubbing a hand over her eyes. Maybe she had a headache. Charles thought he should probably try to get her to drink less coffee. Maybe she’d be open to switching to chai.

“Charles,” Edwin said slowly. “There is one very large flaw in your plan.”

“Just one?” Crystal sighs, taking her hands off her eyes so she could look at the ceiling.

“There is no way we can disguise ourselves as vengeful ghosts. If the sorcerer comes to our location and can’t feel a restless undead, they will leave,” Edwin continued, ignoring Crystal. “Also, why are you the bait in this scenario?” Edwin asked sounding significantly more stressed over that.

“Sure, we can!” Charles responded, ignoring that last bit. It seemed pretty obvious to him why he needed to be the bait. It wasn’t like he was going to let Edwin be the bait, that was just mental. “I just, you know, let myself get a little in my head, feel a little bit vengeful and tada! To the uninitiated I’ll look just like a vengeful ghost,” Charles finished with what he felt was his most winning smile, the one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up in a way that Crystal had once assured him was ‘sinful’.

The silence that hung in the office after his explanation was long and loaded enough that Charles eventually let the grin drop and instead put his hands on his hips to glare back and forth between Edwin and Crystal.

“‘Feel a little bit vengeful’…” Crystal repeated, her voice dripping with derision.

“Charles, what-? No!” Edwin shouted, shaken out of whatever stunned stupor he had been stuck in by Crystal’s voice. “You can’t just-” Edwin’s long elegant hands flailed in front of his chest for a moment before finally digging into his carefully coiffed hair, sending all the strands astray. Charles wasn’t sure he had ever seen Edwin react like that before. He felt a little accomplished. It was hard to get a new reaction out of someone you’ve known for thirty-eight years.

Edwin took a deep breath and put his hands down flat on the surface of the desk. His hair was still sticking up in all directions. Charles suppressed a smile at the sight of Edwin so rumpled, but it was hard.

“Charles, you cannot just,” Edwin’s face spasmed a little and then he pulled himself back under control, “think yourself into becoming a vengeful ghost. It does not work like that.”

“I mean. It does a bit, doesn’t it?” Charles asked with a frown.

“No. It does not,” Edwin said with a much bigger frown.

“You’re telling me you’ve never gotten really mad or really sad and gone a little…” Charles grimaced and tilted his hand side to side, not sure what word would best describe the feeling of his physical form getting away from him a bit, like the floor going soft beneath his feet and his bones turning syrupy in his flesh.

“No,” Edwin bites out. “And even if I did, I would certainly never try to feel that way on purpose,” Edwin said acidly.

“It’s for the case, Eds!” Charles exclaimed. “It’s not like I’m saying we should make it our new hobby!”

---

In the end, no one could come up with a plan that was better than “become a vengeful ghost for like an hours tops and trick an evil sorcerer into coming to us”. There was a lot of shouting and arguing and by the end, Edwin’s hair was so crazy that he looked like he had put his finger in a light socket, but ultimately Charles’ very bad no good idea had carried the day.

The final plan looked something like this:

Crystal leaves rumors about a nearby abandoned hospital being haunted by a vengeful spirit that only appears at very specific times all over the web

They booby trap the hospital ahead of time with various hidden wards and barriers that they can lead the sorcerer into

Crystal, Charles, Edwin and a mirror travel to St Hilarion’s together

Charles and Edwin return to the places of their deaths to attempt to tap into their vengeful feelings

Once they are sufficiently vengeful, they use the mirror to travel to the hospital just at the time that the alleged haunting should occur

They lead the sorcerer into one of the various traps in the building

They release the ghosts and do something threatening to the sorcerer or something

Case closed

Charles was still not particularly happy that Edwin would also be turning himself into bait, but who would play the part of bait was a point that had been an especially sore spot for both of them. Eventually, Crystal had suggested that they both act as bait just to get them to stop shouting at each other.

Returning to St. Hilarion’s was also not his favorite part of the plan, less because he hated the place (although he absolutely did hate the place) and more because he would have to leave Edwin alone there. The timing was important, so they both would need to change as close to the same time as possible. Because they hadn’t conveniently died in the exact same place, they would have to split up for that part.

Charles didn’t like it but, Charles knew that if he voiced his discomfort, Crystal and Edwin would be eager to toss the whole plan and go back to the drawing board. Charles couldn’t bare the idea of letting the man they had been chasing go on hurting ghosts any more than he already had. So far as they could tell, the sorcerer was using vengeful ghosts and their powerful and volatile emotions to power his own magic. Even if they were vengeful, that didn’t mean they deserved to be used up and destroyed by some asshole hungry for power.

If Charles’ plan had a chance to work, he had to take it.

Once the bus dropped them off at the school, they walked to the mid point between the pond that Charles had taken his death blows in and the dormitory that Edwin had died in the basement of.

“This will work,” Charles assured Edwin one last time, his hands tight on Edwin’s shoulders. “As soon as you start to feel a little off, get back here, okay? Then we’ll close this case, eh?”

Edwin stared down at his hands where they fiddled near his waist. He hadn’t looked at Charles in the past hour and it was turning Charles’ stomach to knots, but he couldn’t toss the plan because of a little anxiety. It would work. He was confident.

“Yes. It shouldn’t take long,” Edwin said faintly. Then he turned abruptly, knocking Charles hands off his shoulders as he did so, and began to walk briskly across the crunchy brown grass toward the dormitory.

Charles and Crystal watched Edwin’s retreating back until he phased through the back door and disappeared inside.

“Maybe you should go with him,” Charles said uncertainly.

“Somehow, I don’t think Edwin will be able to focus if I’m there,” Crystal sighed. “Just hurry up and traumatize yourself so we can get this over with,” she added before stalking away toward the water.

With one last concerned look at the big hulking square building Edwin had disappeared inside of, Charles turned to follow Crystal.

It was the dead of winter, just like it had been the day that Charles had last went into the pond. The trees were bare of leaves, the grass was dry and dead beneath Crystal’s boots and the air puffed in little clouds as it exited her mouth. The water looked still and cold, even to Charles, who rarely sensed temperature unless it was fairly extreme.

All he had to do was go in the water and think bad thoughts. It wasn’t so hard. Charles could do it.

Becoming a vengeful ghost was nothing to sneeze at and it also wasn’t like an on or off switch. There was a sliding scale between ghosts who were very stable and those who were not. Ghosts were basically memories and emotions tied together by energy. The memories and emotions worked together to create the image that they presented to those people able to perceive them. A vengeful ghost was just a ghost that was trapped in a loop of negative emotions or memories. Often this loop would cause their outward appearance to warp, most often to more closely resemble their appearance at death or some negative perception they had of themselves.

Charles knew that he had let his appearance warp a few times in the past, by accident. He had always been a little susceptible to thought spirals, even when he was alive. Sometimes, when he was alone and his mind was wandering down dark paths that were better left unexplored, he would look down and see that his clothes were completely soaked. That was usually enough to shake him out of whatever mire of dark thoughts he had gotten stuck in. He would go find something fun to do or go find Edwin or just focus on breathing air into lungs that he didn’t have until he finally went back to looking like a better version of himself.

It wasn’t that bad. It happened and maybe it wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

But, Charles still couldn’t bring himself to step into that cold water on his own.

Crystal was looking at him with sympathy in her big pretty eyes. Charles forced himself to take a breath and take a big step forward. His foot broke the water and even his incorporeal skin could feel the shock of how cold the water was. Or maybe he was just remembering.

Either way, once he took one step it was easier to take the next, and the next, and the next until he was in the water up to his waist and shivering.

Charles closed his eyes and he was back there. He wrapped his arms around himself and he felt himself shivering with cold. He took a shaking breath and he could hear his old mates shouting at him, hear the splashing of the water as rocks broke the surface around him. His next breath was ragged, almost a sob. His stomach hurt, the pain so intense he almost felt sick. Yet, he had lost all feeling in his fingers and toes. That was bad, probably. It was too cold to be outside and wet. He needed to run, needed to get away, needed to-

“Charles!” Crystal was shouting his name in his ear, her small soft hand tight on his shoulder and turning him around.

The sight of Crystal shook him out of the trap of his own memories. She wasn’t there that night. If she was there, then he wasn’t still back then.

“C-c-crystal?” Charles stuttered, his teeth chattering too hard to get through her name on the first or second try.

“Shit,” she spit, her eyes huge and terrified in her pretty round face. “Okay. Out. That’s enough. Out of the water,” Crystal demanded, putting her arms under Charles’ armpits and physically dragging him out of the pond.

“Y-y-you’re w-w-wet,” Charles chattered, his wet clothes quickly soaking through her own soft t-shirt.

“You really have no room to talk right now,” Crystal grunted as she tossed him onto the dry dead grass right beside the mirror that she had abandoned on the bank.

“Fuck!” she shouted, stomping her feet and trying to wring the water out of her clothes. She was wracked with fine shivers as well, completely soaked from her ribs down. “This is such a goddamn! Awful! Idea!” she shouted at the sky.

“S-s-sor-sor-” Charles stuttered.

“Shut up!” Crystal shouted at him. “Dammit, where the fuck is-” Crystal cut herself off with a shriek so loud that it echoed off the treeline back at them.

Charles scrambled to his feet, his numb limbs barely obeying him, his legs feeling fawn weak. Somewhere in his mind, he still expected his old mates to come running at him and Crystal from some nearby hiding place, fists and rocks ready to finish what they had started.

What Charles saw instead was Edwin, or what he thought might be Edwin. It was a boy about Edwin’s size, with skin as pale as Edwin’s and hair as dark as Edwin’s. But, he was so incredibly caked in blood and burns and viscera that it was hard to make out any other features.

“I’m here,” the boy who might have been Edwin said, in a blank empty voice. The voice sounded like Edwin’s, soft and a little high, even if was breathy and barely above a whisper.

“Oh, god,” Charles groaned, stumbling toward Edwin. “Mate, w-what-” he stumbled over his words, his eyes roving over Edwin’s face. His nose, usually straight and perfect, was split in the middle, a deep gash right across the bridge that leaked thick clotted blood down and his face and over his lips. There was blood everywhere, in his hair, dried into his eyebrows, caked into the curves of his ears.

It looked like he might have been in pajamas or something like them. The clothing might have been white once, but it was burnt and dirtied and bloodied and it was hard to tell what the original color was underneath.

Everywhere that Charles looked at Edwin he found new wounds. His arm was broken, his stomach was slashed, there was shards of glass in his leg. His bare feet were blistered, at least two toes completely missing. To make matters worse, his injuries kept shifting. The second that Charles dragged his eyes away from one part of Edwin’s body to look at the next, the injury changed. Missing toes became broken ankles became a completely missing foot.

“Jesus,” Crystal sobbed from somewhere behind Charles. He could hear her gagging, but if felt like it was happening far away. He felt like he was at the bottom of the ocean with just this broken wraith of his best friend, trapped with the consequences of his own actions, in his own awful version of hell.

“Charles,” the boy who probably was Edwin said faintly. He pressed his hand to Charles’ cheek and his hand was tacky with blood. His thumb was missing. “You’re cold,” he said.

“Fuck,” Charles sobbed, tears he hadn’t realized were gathering in his eyes spilling down cold blue cheeks to wash some of the blood off of Edwin’s fingers.

“Nope, no, fuck, I’m not doing this,” Crystal said, grabbing both Charles and Edwin by their elbows and pushing them. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she had an excellent sense of direction, because she shoved them right into the mirror. “Get that fucker and then go back to normal, you dickheads!” she shouted through her tears as Charles and Edwin fell through the mirror.

---

In the end, catching the sorcerer had been easy. He was drawn to Edwin and what he had dubbed his ‘vortex of pain and suffering’ like a moth to a flame. It had killed Charles to sit Edwin down at the end of a hallway and ask him to stay there, but it had worked. The sorcerer had walked right across one of the wards that Edwin had drawn on the floor in that very hallway hours ago and was trapped.

Charles had swung all the way around from terrified to fucking pissed by that point and took great pleasure in smashing his cricket bat into the man’s face over and over before smashing all the glass vials full of vengeful ghosts that he carried with him onto the dirty tile floor.

Spirits had run screaming in all directions, but it didn’t miss Charles’ notice that none of them got within spitting distance of Edwin.

Then it was over. The sorcerer was bleeding a lot, but Charles still felt like a ship at sea and an evil man’s suffering was too hard to hold onto and care about. All he cared about was Edwin.

He had stopped walking a while ago, the motions that the living went through to move felt far away. He floated to Edwin and collapsed by his side against the wall. Charles felt insignificant and empty, like a boy made of tissue paper that someone had breathed their sorrows into. He pressed himself up against Edwin and at least he felt solid and real.

He looked down at Edwin’s feet where they pressed into the dirty floor. They were pale and narrow, the knobs of his ankle sticking out below the hem of his pants. Charles didn’t remember Edwin having bare feet in hell. Somehow that felt like a big injustice, that someone would drag Edwin out of bed without his shoes and socks, let alone the full outfit that he wore to face the outside world like armor. Someone forced Edwin to walk into hell itself with his pale pretty feet exposed and that seemed like the kind of injustice that Charles would happily kill for.

“I’m sorry,” Charles murmured, barely more than an exhalation.

“Whatever for?” Edwin asked. His voice sounded stronger, but still sort of dream like. But, maybe that was just Charles. Everything felt like a dream a little bit just then. He felt so unreal.

“I hurt you,” Charles whispered after a moment.

Edwin took Charles’ hand in his. Edwin had beautiful hands with long deft fingers and carefully shaped nails. Charles could see Edwin’s hand through his own, which seemed wrong, though Charles couldn’t exactly put his finger on why.

“You would never hurt me,” Edwin said with surety.

Charles looked toward Edwin and Edwin tilted his head to look back. It occurred to Charles then that Edwin had much less blood on his face than he remembered. The cut on his nose was back, but it was much smaller and no longer bleeding down his face. There was still some blood crusted around his hairline and ear, but otherwise his face was clear of injuries. Edwin’s hand wasn’t hurt either, all his fingers and toes were accounted for.

“I made you look like this,” Charles said, squeezing Edwin’s hand in his and reveling in how solid he felt. Charles felt certain just then that if he could just hold onto Edwin, he wouldn’t float away or break apart.

“No,” Edwin said, frowning faintly. “A lot of other things and people hurt me before I ever met you, Charles. That’s why I look like this.” Edwin glanced down, looking at their joined hands, Charles’ blue fingers looking more solid every second that Edwin held them tight in his own. “I trust you completely, Charles Rowland. You would not hurt me.”

“Oh,” Charles said. He looked into Edwin’s eyes as they turned back to him. He looked so sure, sure enough for both of them. “I feel the same,” Charles said, gratified to see Edwin’s eyes widen a little at that.

Then, he sighed and pressed in closer to Edwin. He felt good and solid and the closer Charles got to him the more good and solid he felt. They stayed pressed together until Crystal finally found them huddled together, two dead boys in their school uniforms, not a hint of blue or blood between them.

[artycomicfangirl]

Hey I was tackling a concept which really has not been able to leave my mind. It was about Mr L and Daisy. That side of Luigi which we only truly see in Super Paper Mario. A snarky, confident villain who was quite a match for the heroes but I wonder how he responds to Daisy. An aggresive, passionate person who doesn't take crap from anybody.

It is fire against fire and normally that would clash but would that also count for these two? How would the dynamic change? Is Mr L more flirty and Daisy more taken aback by this? Or will she flirt back even more as a way to defend herself? And how does she feel about this Mr L? Does she completely hate him? Or does she like some parts of his personality?

Let me know what your thoughts are on this!

Hey! This is another fun ask that I’ve been slowly working on, but life and distraction kept pulling me away from. But FINALLY I’m here!

I’ve been feeling in a bit of a fluffy-sappy mood. So I do apologize just in case if I do make characters seem OOC!

Also, this is a bit more Luigi-heavy it seems, since this ask is about potential ideas regarding Mr L. Enjoy!

—————————————————

So. Potential Scenario time to set the scene and some context:

After Mario Fighting Mr L and seemingly banishing this Alter Ego from his younger brother’s body. Mario realizes that the side effects may not be as simple as it is.

Turns out, Although looking to be temporary. Due to the odd nature of magic, Parts of the so called ‘Mr L’ alter ego still lingers within the subconscious of Luigi’s mind. And from time to time, will often pop up in moments of high-tension, stress or anger.

It has been deduced that for the time being, Mr L may be triggered as an extreme way for Luigi to overcome the very things that holds him back.

This ‘Revived’ Version of Mr L, now retains some memories from when he was primarily active and thriving. Now, he is more aware that he is a conscious. He just chooses to see that he and Luigi share one ‘Vessel’

Mr L also has adopted new parts to his behavior, which are triggered from his old memories (In which I will elaborate further below.)

So now as the main gang have to wait this out till it passes over. Let’s see how our Sarasaland Princess deals with this!

—————————————————

💚 Two Sides of the Same Coin 💚

So if i remember correctly, Mr L did kind of express some sort of attraction towards Peach in the game.

But when a new Princess comes into the picture? Oh boy, did he fall HARD.

💚 While it’s obvious from surface level than Daisy and Luigi are more of an opposites attract sort of situation. I’d reckon that both Daisy and Mr L are more or so an equal match. This is what makes a bit more banter between the two. Especially when Mr L is the one talking his worth. Daisy on the other hand, is the type to eye-roll at his antics more.

But strange enough. When it comes to Daisy, Mr L acts differently around her. Because it’s been implied that some of Mr L’s behavior is still affected from Luigi’s memories, His attraction for her hits him full force. He actually wants to “Keep her around”. So he genuinely puts in effort to do so. Ironically, his actions is what keeps her at bay sometimes.

💚 Of Course is seen to act so Cocky towards most of his rivals and enemies, laughing at their faces. But when it comes to Daisy, he clearly tries to find ways to impress her and gain her attention.

While Luigi is all about the sentimental, heartfelt and genuine understanding. Mr L does not seem to get it, and relies on grand and flashy feats. Most of these attempts do not work, and he becomes genuinely shocked.

He doesn’t insult Daisy intentionally. But more has the “Oh, she doesn’t understand…Hey, I’ll try something else! Something even more grand!” Mentality.

💚 Because of Luigi, he has a natural subconscious pull and attraction towards Her. In fact, that’s one of the lucky things that Daisy has to keep from making him as her enemy in the first place.

But of course, he’s more full of himself about it. Leaning against a wall, arms crossed until Daisy notices and calls him out for staring. But he doesn’t give a care in the world.

“ Hey now. I can’t help staring down at such a beautiful force of nature~”

💚 💛 Seeing Daisy in her signature sports or Mario Kart Biker outfit? He will absolutely give a whistle of approval. When Mr L likes what he sees, he makes it VERY clear.

He will find amusement if Daisy reacts in a shocked manner. But it’s when she reacts all flustered, cue the smirk from him. He eats this kind of response right up!

💚 💛 Mr L has a knack for giving demeaning nicknames for his rivals and enemies. But for Daisy? Pet names and complements galore. He has no shame.

“Hey, Ms Pretty Petal! How about I pluck you from the fields of boredom, and take you somewhere fun?

“Well Hey, Ms Sunflower! I was working on my latest invention…but looks like all I need is you to brighten my day!

“Hey Ms Steady Sweetie! How’d you like my Dance Moves? Speechless? Huh, that’s okay. I guess The Green Thunder must be THAT striking to you huh?

💚 Even Mr L’s need to leap in and defend Daisy, is by some instinctual force. At first, he merely just does this because he wants to One-up (Pun intended) Luigi. To prove that he’s the better conscious. The better man.

But over time, Mr L is forced to learn and accept new things. So overtime, much to his chagrin, he unintentionally gains some empathy and development along the way. He always backs this up as simply not letting anyone tell him what to do. But doing this on his own will.

As time goes on though. Mr L kind of does change a bit. Also to show him learning to work together with Luigi’s conscious.

“That Mr Toochickentofightghosts would be sad if anything happened to you…Eh, wouldn’t you know? Something I agree with.”

💚 Regarding Mr L retaining the memories he previously once had. This is tied to my previous point of him now hating being told what to do. He is actually scared of being controlled by another force. Hence why when he gains understanding that he and Luigi share a conscious, he often fights to take over.

When opened up in his most vulnerable state, he kind of actually does express sympathy for what he remembers as Count Bleck’s downfall. In this moment, he subtly implies that he is unsure as to who he can look up to now. Or if he could ever find someone as worthy as Bleck to admire.

💚💛 I’d like to imagine that at some point, Everything would change, when Daisy ends up defending not just Luigi. But Mr L as well. I can imagine this happening at a point much later, When Daisy has learnt so much about Mr L, and has gotten along with him this far.

Seeing this Princess proclaiming that Mr L is not some One-time minion who can just be used and cast away, makes him see that Daisy genuinely finds recognition and respect in his intellect. And Thus, he fully shifts to having his utmost loyalty from Bleck, to ‘His’ Daisy.

Aside from his now changed views on Mario, Luigi and the main Gang. This was the woman he quite literally will think of as top Priority to him. For she genuinely sees him for what he is worth. Much like she does for Luigi

🌼 He…Loves me? 🌼

💛 This whole thing might be something Daisy has never seen before. And knowing that the one person she loves has a double personality understandably would freak her out a little at the beginning. But since Mario would have fought Mr L already, so he could explain to Daisy about everything.

Again, Mr L and Luigi are really all in all the same person. So after Mario had to confirm this a couple of times for her to process, Daisy is quick to be aware of this. She would never fault Luigi for how Mr L would act. But of course, it doesn’t entirely stop her from being appalled at Mr L’s actions.

💛 Daisy does not tolerate Luigi’s legacy to be insulted. It is why whenever Mr L does make some kind of passive aggressive insult towards Luigi, is the thing that gets her so defensive and annoyed the most.

💛 It is Daisy’s strong character, her not falling for Mr L’s antics easily. Is ironically, what draws him to her so much. The running gag is that no matter how much she tries to retort back to him, he actually finds amusement in it. He definitely likes her ‘feisty’ nature.

💛 Daisy’s way of learning how to actually get along and accept Mr L, is by being able to be as quick witted as he is. She begins to quickly learn that a flirtatious comeback or two, is enough to basically shut him up. She actually finds it really funny that all she can do is wink back at him, and he becomes all silent.

Of course much to her dismay, she then suddenly remembers that this was the fuel to fan his flames of desire. Pining for her even more the next day. Task failed…successfully?

💛 Honestly, Daisy would sometimes be frustrated and shocked at Mr L’s excessive dramatic and cheesy nature. But as she learns to help Luigi with this new predicament of now welcoming Mr L into his life. Daisy begins to form more insight as to how Luigi’s mind might work.

💛 Surprisingly enough. Being around Mr L, has taught Daisy what she can do to motivate and support Luigi. It is why she takes raising his confidence seriously, and will further instill into him that being himself, is what made her fall for him. And that as long as he still held onto his pure heart, she will not judge him for having Mr L in his life.

[bonbon-bonny]

I don't usually write a whole lot but I wanted to talk about this for a moment

Ahem. *flips through notes*

So I loooove Sailor Moon. Specifically the 90s version. It was my favorite show growing up. My home life was difficult and to see someone like Usagi with a perfect family, a perfect boyfriend etc. getting to live her best life despite the fact she herself wasn't perfect was too easy to become a bit obsessive over ^_^;

well, let's just say I wanted to be Usagi just a bit too much because my world, my family (Side note: I looove my family! They did the best they could to take care of me growing up, but we had to deal with an unusual circumstance that made it hard for all of us), heck just even being myself didn't feel good enough and frankly it left me having to confront a lot of issues just to be okay with who I am now.

And of course ,naturally, I looooved Tuxedo Kamen XD. On the outside to me, he seemed perfect; a knight in shining armor.

But I always kept running into a particular conversation which is "why do you like him so much tho? He seems like a jerk. He seems so different from her. He never shows her affection. She'd be better off with someone like Seiya who's more on her level. He's useless. He's bad for trying to help her because she's a girl boss and doesn't need to be rescued." Like, seriously the amount of criticism I've heard towards this character is wild and he literally gets attacked no matter what he does.

And you know I get it. If you just look at it from a surface level it's easy to maybe get that impression of him but after one particular conversation I was having with a friend of mine about it I stopped and asked myself why. Why does she like him? why does he like her? how can two people who outwardly look so different from each other ever be in a healthy relationship? what could the two of them possibly have in common?

So I did what I do best and I watched the show I grew up with carefully. I observed him. I watched the things he said and did. And in the end I reached several conclusions.

Mamoru isn't perfect, at least in the beginning, but he's always trying to do his best to be. With almost anyone else in the show he's usually calm, collected and somewhat reserved. The only person besides Motoki he seems to act out a bit with if you can call it that IS Usagi and half of the time it's not even that he's actually being mean.

[IF you watch the Japanese version with subtitles, because in the English dub? Ooph! they changed so much of his dialogue and gave him such a smirky voice it's hard to listen to him without wanting to punch him in the face imo.]

It's that the way she perceives him is off. Also, sometimes it's not even HIM that starts the arguments.

Sometimes SHE'S the one who starts their spats and he snaps back at her. Sometimes she hits him with shoes and papers and doesn't seem to care.

One episode that comes to mind is the Dreamland episode where the toy train stops and she rams into him. All he did was look at her and say hi and immediately she got defensive and started making fun of him.

Making fun of an orphan sitting on a toy train who most likely was just trying to do something fun that he never got to because he didn't HAVE a family to take him as a kid.

Seriously. If you were to be in his place, going through this world, it's rather scary, stressful, terrifying, and uncertain.

He didn't get a magical talking cat to walk him through his powers. Instead he got seizures and psychic visions, and a past life version of himself that took over his body without consent until he finally got the rainbow crystal and understood what was happening around him.

He gets amnesia not once but twice, kidnapped several times, and gets trapped in his own mind twice ala brainwashing by beryl and Nehelenia and by stars I wouldn't be surprised if half of the reason he went to study abroad instead of staying with Usagi is because he was afraid if he did he'd only continue to be a burden for her, because the man hardly has any dialogue and seems almost catatonic.

Also let's be real here. As amazing as it was for him to meet and talk with his future self it probably scared him. The responsibility of literally being King of the world, of making decisions that could impact the lives of everyone in tremendous ways. Of being the kind of partner and provider he thinks Usagi deserves or being a good father for Chibi-Usa when he didn't get to have parents to show him what those things looked like.

He didn't get a loving family to support him or tell him that they loved him, he was an orphan who probably hoped someone would eventually rescue him but no one ever did.

He probably feels in his heart that he doesn't deserve to be loved by anyone, and even if someone were to pursue him romantically he probably couldn't reciprocate in any meaningful way because he's most likely too closed off emotionally to be in a healthy relationship with anyone.

Heck the guy only for the most part has only two best friends. Motoki and Saori and frankly I'd hardly even call Saori a best friend since she literally just shows up in an episode in Super S as "Romantic competition" for Usagi and then just ups and vanishes and is never mentioned ever ever again.

So how does someone like him see Usagi and wind up constantly sacrificing his life over and over again for her?

Three words:

She. Sees. Him.

Once she starts to look at him a bit differently instead of seeing him as some tall guy running around with his stupid green jacket with his prickly personality, once she realizes that it was him trying to rescue her when she was so close to the brink of death on occasions and getting injured in the process, once he opens up to her about his struggles she sees him. Not just because he's a hero, but because even if it's hard for him he still tries to help her. A lot of times he even gives her really sound advice that she winds up listening to even if at the time he tells her she doesn't seem to understand him and takes it the wrong way.

He probably also deep down worries that he truly doesn't deserve someone like her.

Even if we don't always see it from the outside he adores Usagi because she sees him for who he is and doesn't ask him to be more outgoing or different.

Usagi adores him because he doesn't ask her to be anything other than who she really is.

Both of them accept the other as they truly are inside. THAT is true love.

You don't really get the chance to see what their relationship looks like from the outside. But he smiles a lot when he's with her which is certainly not something he really ever did with Rei or anyone else from what I could tell. And I bet when he does take her out on dates he's embarrassed and flustered and stumbles but he also probably takes off his mask and tries to make her happy and have a good time.

Also I'd like to add some notes on King Endymion and the violet. Why so much violet? Like....an overwhelming amount of violet XD I never understood why when I was younger but as I've grown up I've spent some time delving into subjects such as Psychology, Spirituality, and Philosophy.

Ladies and gentlemen, Violet is the color of the crown chakra.

https://www.chakras.info/crown-chakra/

Crown chakras deal with the mental and the spiritual. They are a gateway to enlightenment and in my opinion perhaps one could even say that the journey of mental health and enlightenment are two sides of the same coin.

So I'd like to think that for as much as Mamoru might struggle with his mental health, he also walked the path towards true enlightenment. Such a man truly should be King of the World and is more than deserving of being Usagi's partner.

And I'd die for a relationship with a man who is brave enough to confront the things which makes him suffer because I'd know that he'd have the clarity of mind to be a good partner, to treat me with kindness and compassion and show me the kind of love I've always dreamed of having, and that's something only someone who has love for themselves and others could ever possibly be able to give. He doesn't need to be perfect, because perfection is unattainable. He just needs to be brave enough to try even if it makes him deeply uncomfortable at times.

So,

To the men who truly and deeply identify with Mamoru, know I'd marry you in a heartbeat if you asked. That if you showered me in chocolate and flowers I'd do the exact same thing for you because you deserve it. Anyone who is brave enough to do the work necessary to heal and grow, to have kindness and compassion for others, to show me that even if I'm not perfect that it's still okay to be myself around you deserves every happiness in the world.

Not everyone is brave enough to do such a thing and I've come to a point in my life where I'm not interested in what someone can give me externally as much as I am in the kind of person they choose to be and what their values are.

Maybe some people might look at someone like Mamoru and judge him, but Usagi most certainly never would once she got to know him; and considering I've always wanted to be her I'll die on this hill defending him. Out of everyone, Usagi WOULD defend him from the judgement, from the criticism, of the need to be perfect and wear masks, or be something other than what he truly is on the inside.

Mamoru is more than just a knight in shining armor,

He's beautiful imperfection; and I'd choose that over anything else any day.

@heavyheartedprinceofearth

[inkyarcturus]

(Honestly this entire thing might be projection, but who cares!)

Hermione has such an interesting underdeveloped relationship with her parents. They’re rarely if ever mentioned, and when they are mentioned, they never seem to know the full story of what exactly is going on at Hogwarts.

At least, based on the fact that they let her keep going to Hogwarts, you wouldn’t expect them to know.

On top of that, nearly every summer, she stays a large portion of her time at the weasleys. she also stays at Hogwarts during breaks, despite having the option to leave.

I find it fascinating that Hermione was even capable of obliviating her parents memories in the first place. This must have caused massive amounts of grief and agony to have surfaced. Yet she still did it.

Now I know she isn’t perfect, keeping skeeter in a jar and scarring that girls face in 5th year, but still, she was more okay with her parents completely forgetting her existence then attempting to find a different solution?

The only way to make that sort of decision easier, is your parents already not knowing you.

Which leads into my idea, I wish fanfics delved a little deeper into the idea that Hermione might have been neglected, at least emotionally so.

It may just be me, but most of these signs seem to point to some form of neglect.

See the thing about neglect is that it’s a slow acting poison in a lot of ways. Unnoticeable to those around you, and easy to ignore when it comes to yourself.

I think it would be so easy for fanfic writers to draw a connection between Hermione’s drive for academic success and plausible neglect from her parents leading to a need to impress people to keep them around.

Her number one fear in third year was failure.

I can imagine a world where she grew up quiet, struggling to make friends from her slightly bossy nature and higher intelligence. She noticed that she was special in a way (magically so), but she didn’t pay too much mind to it as neither did her parents.

But as dentists, as people who have gone through higher levels of academia, they would have paid attention to her success in school.

It wasn’t a lot of course. They’re both dentists, they both have full time jobs and no other kids, so she was just alone most of the time with her books as she didn’t have friends either.

It was lonely, but it was survivable, there was food on the table, a roof over her head, a warm bed to go to sleep in, and those brief moments where her parents would surpass her expectations and actually do something that showed that they cared and noticed her beyond her academic achievements for once.

Then she gets to Hogwarts, and the weekly letters turn into monthly ones. She tries to tell herself that all of them have just gotten busier with work and school. She doesn’t quite succeed in being convincing, but she goes back during winter break anyway.

She only ever goes back again in 6th year.

It would be so easy for her not to mention her parents, as they have a good steady job (with stable income, unlike the weasleys) and they don’t exactly outwardly harm her (like the dursleys).

It would be so easy to see her parents lack of attention or care as simple freedom, or her wanting too much, or not trying hard enough.

Because after all, she’s not helping by not sending letters either, or telling them the full story of what happened that school year when she does meet up with them.

[all-pacas]

ok i read a house fanfic where they had superpowers and it wasn't that good, but now i'm imagining a world of Thematically Appropriate Powers, but they're all still Terrible Doctors

house - human lie detector. taken to an extreme and meticulous depth; he's developed and practiced. he can tell when someone is lying. easy. he can tell shades of truth: when something is being hidden, when something is partially true. if he knows someone, he can even read them, uncannily, based on the lies and truths and secrets they keep. his ability doesn't tell him what the truth is, but by process of elimination and figuring out what they don't lie about, he can get close ("i am left handed" pings if it's false and not if it's true. ergo…). he can't turn it off entirely but he can avoid "listening" too closely.

wilson - the power to be believed. super persuasion. he can turn it on and off at will, he pretends to prefer to never use it. he can't compel people, he just exudes an aura of such honesty that people trust him, open up to him, end up doing what he says because he's their best friend. naturally, he is as close to immune to house's power as he can get; in turn, house can usually still tell when he's lying, even when he's being Super Sincere

chase - emotion manipulation. he can't generally do anything too extreme - no riling people up into murderous frenzies, or making them fall in love - but he absolutely uses and abuses it. sometimes just to make patients calm, usually to make people like him. it's not a charm power, he can't use it like wilson does, it only works on one person at a time: wilson is making himself believable, and chase is manipulating the feelings of others. he can just… always make himself seem likeable. always make a great impression. he uses it shamelessly and no one trusts him. it doesn't really work on house (house is too aware of the 'lie' of it), but it's why house hired him regardless.

cameron - the actual telepath of the group. she's no charles xavier, but she can read surface level thoughts and memories, as well as show her own - it's easier to show her memories than read others, and it's better if she can have physical contact. she insists she doesn't and won't use her powers on patients/people without their consent (to house's great annoyance). all the same, she uses them more often than she'd want to admit, since it's just so convenient. and then she feels bad about it, and then she does it again… house is not immune to her power, although he's stubborn enough to keep her from being able to pry too deeply, although she very much wants to at times.

foreman - mental acuity. he is immune to all mental powers and emotional control and psychic abilities. he is supernaturally aware of himself, his body/mind, and his surroundings. he knows when he's getting a cold from the moment it starts. he has a bit of a "spidey-sense" as well, and keen observational skills, both of which he uses to absolutely kick ass at his job. the "mental shield" thing is more of a minor side effect, in his opinion… or it was until he started working for house, at which point it became his most valuable ability by far.

[qsmprambling]

I think something to keep in mind re: the newer islanders comments regarding Foolish and Leo, regardless of how frustrating they are, is that it comes from a fundamental misunderstanding of qFoolish as a person, which is partially caused by the persona Foolish himself presents to everyone.

Foolish gives the impression of being a very open person who probably couldn't be bothered to keep too many secrets unless it was fun, a happy and impulsive spirit and just a general fun and chaotic person. He doesn't seem to take things too seriously, going with the flow and doing whatever seems most fun to him in the moment.

He doesn't seem like the type to get deeply attached. He doesn't seem like the type to keep secrets or hide how he is feeling. He doesn't seem like the type who would dwell enough on something that it causes him heartache, because he is impulsive, and free-spirited, and unattached, right?

He's playing with Capybaras, he's laughing with his friends, he's making jokes and playing around. Heck, he isn't even really talking about Leo that much - if you accept everything you see at face value like most of the newbies who never got to meet Leo or don't know qFoolish will, it must look like he's not all that upset about her being gone and isn't really thinking about it too much, right?

But the other islanders know. The ones who have known the eggs, and the ones that know Foolish, they all know the truth.

Bad has noted that he isn't sure other people have noticed, but he can tell that Foolish is hurting. Jaiden too has made comments a out how people don't take him seriously. Baghera left him alone with the concrete because it felt so wrong to swarm him in that moment that she knew was painful for him. And though I haven't seen comments from the others, I have no doubt all the other islanders who have been here for months wouldn't ever question how much Foolish loves and misses Leo. (Tina is the exception with the new islanders as she met Leo before joining the server and she knows Foolish is a good parent).

But the new islanders accept Foolish for how he presents himself. They see him laughing and playing and having fun and assume those are his true feelings and don't realise they are, but he is also hurting. They see him not bring Leo up and they don't realise it's not because he doesn't care, but because confronting his feelings isn't something he is good at. He prooved that when he ran away the moment he was directly asked about how he was feeling after finding Leo's message, or when he brushed off Bad's sympathy and rejected his offer of a hug (but did accept Bad's offer to stand near him, because at least it was something he could bring himself to accept...).

For Bagi it also doesn't help that she spends so much time with Bad, who is someone who is literally wearing his grief for all to see. No one is questioning that Bad is missing the eggs, because it's obvious. But just like no one (other than Foolish and Baghera) realised just how depressed Bad was in his vacation arch because of the carefree attitude he put on, Foolish's demeanor has made it so his grief is not obvious to those who aren't willing to look a bit deeper. Most people are willing to accept whatever they see on the surface, and not attempt to look beyond that. I'm sure other islanders other than Foolish are also being misunderstood - an example would be Tubbo's comment that no one seemed to care and no one was doing anything to find the eggs, without knowing about Bad's drastic actions, or Philza's breakdown over Tallulah's letter, or Fit's quiet grief, or Aypierre's increased drinking, or Roier's deterioration, and all the other things the parents and relatives of the missing eggs were feeling and going through.

Anyway I am rambling, but long story short it is frustrating when the new members don't understand the grief of Foolish because they accept his surface level persona, and that is something Foolish himself is perpetuating, but just remember that even if the new islanders don't understand, all the old islanders do. Even if they don't speak it out loud, and some are more obvious that others, they are all united with Foolish in their grief.

[monoukotori]

Idk if it's different in the manga, but the anime gives me the impression that Hikaru is actually a very lonely person with surface level relationships.

He didn't nurture any friendship or familial bond outside of Sai for years, so when he disappeared he found himself with no one he could actually trust, and Go was the only thing that stopped him from becoming a complete social recluse.

He's that kind of person that everyone likes, and is 'friends' with everyone, but secretly doesn't trust anyone and no one really knows the "real" him

The only other person that comes close to Sai from Hikaru's POV is Akira but objectively they weren't close at all at the end of the anime. I know they become closer later on, but it seems that there is still a barrier in between them

Hikaru is just kinda broken with little ability to connect with other human beings in a meaningful way, and the only moment he becomes self aware of that is when he realizes that he didn't really know anything about Sai outside of Go.

Even the closest bond he ever had wasn't strong enough.

[littlemissmanga]

The Daimyo's Princess

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Worn down reader, slight insecurity if you squint, elements of a Dom/Sub dynamic but just a hint/talks about “punishment” but no details.

w/c: 1,323

Clone x Reader Bingo Square: Tattooine @clonexreaderbingo

Previous Squares: Don't Forget That / Rex (18+) / Mechanic

Summary: The day had drained you in the worst way, leaving you exhausted and restless all at once. Now, all you wanted was the comfort only found in the arms of your Daimyo. But Boba Fett is still occupied by his responsibilities, holding court from his throne. Do you have the courage to take what you need, or will you suffer in silence?

You can't wait.

You know you should, but it’s just not possible right now. You have been feeling unmoored all day. Your skin tingles with need as every atom feels like it would fly away if not held firmly in place.

And there is only one person you trust to do that.

But today’s session of petitions seems unending. You try listening from the back corner, not wanting to disrupt the natural flow of procedure and hoping to keep yourself occupied with the politics of it all. At least until the blessed moment Boba would dismiss the crowd and you could approach him.

It’s a strategy that worked before. But the monotonous prattle from the clear social climber — a merchant looking to establish a foothold in Outer Rim — did little to distract you.

Not when Boba sits sprawled out on his throne, claiming every inch of the chair the way he claimed everything in life.

Including you.

What had started as just a job — administrative work for the new daimyo of Mos Espa — quickly became a passion project in the truest sense of the word.

Your composure and mindfulness as you skillfully kept the palace running smoothly impressed Boba Fett. When your fiery nature and flirtatious quips were met with amused chastisement, it didn’t take long for admiration to evolve into affection on both sides.

Once Boba becomes attached to something, no force in the galaxy can make him let go. The minute you assured him his affections were returned, that you wanted him as he wanted you, you became his.

He made sure everyone in the palace, employees and guests, knew that you spoke with his voice. Your authority was his authority. The only person you submitted to in this realm was the king himself.

But you had never been so bold as to claim the throne. And in this moment, that’s all you want — to claim your throne on Boba Fett’s lap as he sat and doled out judgments from his.

A million and one logistical errors had surfaced that morning, pushing your drive and creative problem solving to their absolute limits. Now, your mind is drained, exhausted and blank even as your body thrums with adrenaline and unresolved tension.

Something needs to be done. Or else you fear you won't be ablt to control how you’ll react to the next provocation.

Slowly, you move along the sides of the room as far as you could, passing the line of petitioners as you went. You keep your head level and your gaze lowered. Not to the floor like a slave — nothing would infuriate your Daimyo more than you subjugating yourself like that publicly — but a respectful mid-level, which also affords you freedom from meeting any offended gazes.

“Who is that?”

“How rude!”

“Does she really think the Daimyo will be fooled just because she cut the line?”

Each whispered outrage is a knife in your heart. You only hope they are quiet enough not to travel to Boba’s ears. You don't want to dishonor him, or the guests of the palace. But you need him.

“There is no shame in admitting a weakness and taking what you need. The only shame is in continuing to hurt yourself and others out of pride.”

That lesson had been hard-learned early in your relationship, the punishment for losing yourself in your work and ignoring your own care far worse than any he had doled out before or since.

So maybe there is a chance you could be bold and not be punished for the audacious act you planned.

With a grace that belies your nerves, you finally cross to the middle of the room and climb the stairs to the dais. Meeting Boba’s visor, you stand before him and make your intentions clear as you move to sit sideways on his lap.

It takes no more than a second for him to curl around your waist and pull you down, securing you gently to him. His thumb runs gentle circles over your hip, its consistent pressure comforting.

“Everything okay, Princess?” Boba whispers.

His concern for you is a balm more blissful than any bacta treatment. It should be pathetic, the way just that much affection was enough to quiet your restless body, to soothe your exhausted mind.

But it’s just Boba. The effect he has on you is as natural as it is absolute.

It wasn’t the time or place to fill him in on all that weighed on you. So for now, you pulled a tight but genuine smile to ease his concern. “It is now,” you respond equally softly.

“Excuse me?" The disgruntled cry came from the merchant, his eyes raking over you angrily. "We were in the middle of discussing rather important matters! I would have believed the Daimyo of Mos Espa to have better hospitality than this!”

Maybe it was because your last nerve had been fried long ago. Or maybe it was the presence of your Daimyo, holding you so firmly against him, reminding you of all that he loved about you. Or maybe it was because the insult was directed not at you, but at your man.

More likely it's just that you couldn’t leave well enough alone when someone’s mouth was bigger than yours.

Either way, you found your voice again. And from Boba’s lap, it rang clear with authority.

“You have been welcomed into this palace, granted shade from the Twin Suns that beat down on Tattooine, plied with cool drink and rich food, and been given the privilege of an audience with the mighty Boba Fett. In this way, you have been treated hospitably. You do not, however, have the authority to tell the Daimyo or his Princess where either may sit in their palace.”

The merchant shrinks under your glare, no doubt aided in its intensity by the blank stare of Boba’s visor behind you. Still, you revel in his submission, finding it soothing in a different way to Boba’s touch.

“You are more than welcome to continue your petition. I assure you the Daimyo has not been distracted by anything other than your outburst. But if you find yourself too distracted, then perhaps it is better for you to cede the floor to someone more focused.”

The poor man before you sways back and forth on his feet, unsure whether he should stay or go.

“If you need a moment, step aside.” Boba’s voice echoes through the chamber, though it is lower than yours had been.

It takes only another fleeting second before the merchant decides to continue his spiel. You note with a fair amount of satisfaction that he is more soft-spoken than before, his demands morphing into pleas.

Boba is true to your word. He had not been distracted in the slightest and offers a trial exchange to determine if this man’s business is worth his time. But before the next petitioner can take his place, you feel your Daimyo lean closer, the edge of his helmet pressing gently to the line of your jaw.

“You handled yourself well, Princess,” he growls softly, and you beam at the pride you could hear even through his modulator. “But don’t think we won’t discuss the rest of your behavior later.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You know he only has your well-being at heart. And a small punishment is well worth the price of your prize — contentment and security in Boba’s arms and the respect of his court. Riding the high of your victory, you scan the rest of the line, noting that few petitioners meet your eyes. The ones who do nod deferentially.

Such is the way on Tattooine. Those with strength are followed. You never had expected to be in such a position yourself. But maybe Boba is right with all those sweet words he whispers in your ear when he believes you to be asleep.

Maybe, just maybe, you do have more strength than you believe. And if it takes spending more time with your Daimyo to find it … well, then that is just what you will have to do.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

a/n: I was on the fence about whether to include Boba Fett in my bingo card when I saw the Tattooine square. He is technically a clone, though he himself distances from that identity. But nothing else triggered my brain when thinking about a drabble for Tattooine. Then I saw this post by @thirsty-boba-fett-posts and one of her headcanons inspired me to the point where I had to write this, though it kinda took on a life of its own.

I hope you enjoyed it! And if you did, please reblog so others can find and enjoy it, too!

[thowawayuntilfurthernotice]

The fact that a minor likes Vivziepop's stuff proves how absolutely juvenile her content is.I mean it doesn't look like an adult show,it doesn't "feel" like an adult show in comparison to King Of The Hill or Aqua Teen Hunger Force does.it looks like a regular cartoon come to think of it.there's really nothing 'adult' in her shows other than those rancid unfunny jokes.

Viv seems to be the under the impression that the only way to make an "adult" animated series is by adding in a bunch of dick and fart jokes.

What makes shows like Bojack Horseman stand out from the rest is that, it tackles adult themes in an adult manner. You're meant to feel uncomfortable when you see Bojack's parents arguing in flashbacks, when Princess Carolyn breaks down in her car, it hits hard because we don't get to see her be vulnerable all that much before that moment.

Bojack's self destructive nature is shockingly realistic, it isn't cartoony or melodramatic.

Helluva Boss on the other hand fails miserably at balancing its comedy and drama. Because the writing is just so surface level.

One minute Loona is having a heart to heart conversation with Octavia about how she shouldn't be too hard on her dad, and in the very next scene she's kicking Blitzo (her adoptive father) in the crouch because Viv and her team don't want to treat their audience like adults, they have to thrown in a dick and fart joke every couple of seconds because the audience apparently needs to be constantly reminded that this is an "adult" animated show.

It's no surprise that kids are watching Viv's shows, as the art style is appealing enough when compared to other shows that are aimed at adults, and the writing is very basic.

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Six of Crows Fan-Written Script

Okay so I haven’t done a great job up until this point of actually separating this into clear scenes so I’ve gone through and corrected that and part 4 is the very end of scene 3, all of scene 4, and the start of scene 5. I’m wishing that I’d put better thought into this from the start so I could’ve posted a scene at the time but unfortunately I didn’t have enough foresight for that so I guess we’ll just have to see how it goes and hopefully at least by episode two I’ll have a more sensible structure going on

As usual: Be warned I've taken a little artisitc licence (eg inserting a reference to my personal Anya headcanon in the opening part) but most of this is direct quotes/takes on direct quotes - and also I've never written a script before so my formatting is my own made up method I hope it makes sense. I’ve had to make some strides away from the book in order to match Show!canon but I’m trying to remain as true as possible. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Recap: The last part ended with Kaz and Inej having a conversation after leaving the exchange, with Inej leaving after she said “Men mock the gods until they need them, Kaz”

Also: sorry if there are spelling mistakes in names I’m working mostly from audiobooks because neither of my copies of the books are with me right now

Episode One - Part 4

[KAZ shakes his head, then keeps walking. After a moment he raises his head again, aware he once more isn’t alone. He glances around him briefly, then cuts down a dark alleyway alongside a canal. The scene suddenly darkens as there are no street lamps along this new road, the water of the canal is murky and the yellow reflection of the moon can be seen broken across its surface in between small boats bumping against their moorings as they bob with the movement of the water. KAZ seems to relax once more. A shadowed figure appears ahead of him]

KAZ: What business?

[The figure lunges towards KAZ. He swings his cane towards the attacker and the camera moves in close to the moment that should have been contact - the cane passes straight through empty space that a moment ago was the attacker’s legs, and KAZ stumbles forwards as his momentum pushes him. He rights himself and looks up to discover he’s face-to-face with the attacker. The attacker punches KAZ in the jaw and the camera follows his movement as he falls back then swings his cane around again - only to empty space. The cane hits the wall and then is torn from KAZ’s hands. The camera movements are choppy and confusing, remaining focused on KAZ and showing little of the attacker - we essentially see what KAZ sees: a ghost. A figure steps through the wall - appears as mist and then slowly forms itself into a silhouette wearing a hooded cloak, only the edge of the figure’s face visible in the low light - and KAZ stumbles backwards, terror written across his face. The camera moves close on KAZ’s face as he panics, turning in every direction until a needle is seen being inserted into the side of his neck. His eyes roll, then close, and he collapses out of frame as the screen fades to black]

SCENE FOUR

[THE CROW CLUB. The club is busy; there are patrons at the bar, players at every table, people shouting and jeering. The camera follows the hand of a dealer spinning Makker’s wheel; players shout their joys and sorrows as it lands, completely oblivious to INEJ slipping past them. The club’s patrons are all brightly coloured, a few in the crowd even wear the masks of the Komedie Brute though that’s less common here than on the other Stave, but INEJ is the opposite. The camera watches her from above, moving silently and unimpeded through the crowd, she is an inkblot crossing the bright tapestry. When she stops at a card table the camera moves down through the scene to level with her, and turns to Jesper and two Ravkan tourists sitting at the table. The dealer at the table is ROJAKKE, moving quickly and impressively as he sets up the hand. JESPER is glad to see INEJ. It’s fair to assume she’s spoken to him since her return to the city and he was unfazed by her appearance at the Exchange tonight, but he feels a distance between them that he desperately wants to close. As she approaches, he smiles up at her over his shoulder and references his cards]

JESPER: What do you think?

INEJ: You know exactly what I think

[JESPER looks away. He was trying to emulate the closeness he feels they’ve lost and now fears he had inadvertently made things worse. INEJ turns to ROJAKKE as he finishes handing the final cards of the hand to the tourists]

INEJ: Rojakke, I need a private word - walk with me?

[He frowns but nods, excusing himself from the table and following INEJ towards the private gambling parlours at the back of the club. JESPER glances over his shoulder at them, then shrugs and places two cards onto the table. The tourists play their hands and JESPER grins triumphantly, leaning in to take his winnings when he is suddenly interrupted by ROJAKKE yelling as he marches back into frame - INEJ hurrying after him]

ROJAKKE: It’s not fair - I ain’t no cheat!

[JESPER gets to his feet and the camera follows his steps across the room towards INEJ and ROJAKKE]

INEJ, much quieter: Take it up with Kaz

JESPER: And keep your voice down, you’ll scare off the pigeons. There’s no fights on the Crow Club floor, you know that

[ROJAKKE sneers]

ROJAKKE: Where even is Brekker?

INEJ: I don’t know

[There is genuine concern in INEJ’s tone and she glances at the clock on the wall behind her as she speaks - KAZ has already been gone longer than expected]

ROJAKKE: You always know everything about everything. Isn’t that what Dirtyhands pays you for?

JESPER, murmuring: Not anymore

[INEJ silences him with a look]

INEJ: I don’t know where Kaz is and I don’t know when he’s getting back, but I do know that you won’t want to be here when he does

ROJAKKE: Give me my cheque. I’m owed for my last shift.

INEJ: Brekker doesn’t owe you anything

ROJAKKE: Can’t even face me himself - sent a little girl to gimme the boot. Maybe I’ll just shake a few coins out of you

[ROJAKKE reaches out towards her but he’s slow and has clearly been drinking. INEJ dodges him easily and the camera catches her slipping her fingers into a pair of brass knuckles as she moves. JESPER steps forwards but INEJ shakes her head, then turns and punches ROJAKKE in the face. Use the movement to transition into Kaz’s head movement in the opening of the next scene]

SCENE FIVE

[HOEDE’S OFFICE. Use the sudden movement of ROJAKKE’s head when INEJ punches him to transition into the sudden movement of KAZ’s head at the opening of this scene as a hood is pulled off him. KAZ is tied to a chair in a plush office; mahogany panelled walls with decorative carved shapes, including waves and the three flying fishes of Kerch, grand bookshelves, and an oil painting of a woman with a book open on her lap and a lamb at her feet (with a small but notable signature in the corner says ‘DeKappel’ and possibly a plate on the frame as well to prove its authenticity) are notable features of the set. At first the camera remains focused entirely on KAZ so we cannot see who he is with; someone behind him has removed the hood but they aren’t entirely in frame. KAZ has clearly taken an injury from the fight and there is blood on his face; whatever he was injected with has had him knocked out for an unclear amount of time and he is struggling to right himself. The camera pans back slowly to reveal a MEDIK crouched in front of KAZ, moving forwards to wave a small linen pouch (wolf salts) beneath KAZ’s nose. KAZ shoves back from him as far as his restraints will allow, attempting to kick at the MEDIK but unable to move his legs]

KAZ: Get away from me

[The MEDIK looks at KAZ with distaste as he slips the wolf salts into a small leather container and returns them to his bag. KAZ looks around him with veiled confusion; he expected to wake up in the den of a rival gang but instead is in the plush surroundings of a merchant’s house. The camera moves slowly around the room to introduce us to the scene just as Kaz is: he notes the armed members of the stadwatch at the door, the act that the painting is a genuine DeKappel, and as the camera rotates a broad hardwood desk is revealed, behind which VAN ECK is seated. VAN ECK appears more than simply prosperous. He’s in his forties, has a gaunt air about his face, and has a distinctly receding hairline. His outfit is noticeably similar to KAZ’s and distinctly different from the common trappings that have been seen in the Barrel. He leans on the desk studying KAZ, trying to hide his eagerness and not doing a particularly good job of it]

KAZ: What business?

[VAN ECK appears to be ignoring KAZ. He nods at the MEDIK]

VAN ECK: You may go. Please send me you bill - and I would of course appreciate your discretion

[MEDIK exits. VAN ECK stands and collects a sheath of papers from the desk and the camera cuts close to focus on the gold laurel leaves that make up the fob of his pocket watch and the large, perfect ruby on his tie pin]

KAZ: Van Eck

[It is clear he would have preferred to say something quite different. VAN ECK nods]

VAN ECK: You know me, then

KAZ: I know of you - the Red Laurel crest. You’re one of those merch crusaders always trying to clean up the Barrel

VAN ECK: I try to find men honest work

[KAZ laughs]

KAZ: What’s the difference between wagering at the Crow Club and speculating on the floor of the exchange?

VAN ECK: One is theft and the other is commerce

KAZ: When a man loses his money, he may have trouble telling them apart.

VAN ECK: The Barrel is a den of filth, vice, violence-

KAZ: How many of the ships you send sailing from the Ketterdam harbours never return?

VAN ECK: That doesn’t-

KAZ: One in five, Van Eck. One out of every five vessels you send seeking your fortune sinks to the bottom of the sea, crashes on the rocks, falls prey to pirates. One out of five crews dead, their bodies lost to foreign waters, food for deep sea fishes. Let’s not speak of violence

[VAN ECK is clearly affronted - and clearly trying to hide it]

VAN ECK: I won’t argue ethics with a strippling from the Barrel

[The camera cuts to KAZ’s fingers feeling as far along his chains as he can, subtly adjusting the position of his wrists]

KAZ: Well, if you didn’t bring me here to philosophise: What business?

VAN ECK: I have a proposition for you - or rather, the council does

[KAZ veils his surprise]

KAZ: And does the Merchant Council begin all negotiations with a beating?

VAN ECK: Consider it a warning - and a demonstration

[KAZ frowns, thinking of the way the figure appeared and disappeared like a ghost. He is trying to make himself stop thinking of ghosts]

KAZ: What possible use would the Merchant Council have for me?

[VAN ECK studies the papers in front of him, reading and looking over the top of the page at KAZ as he speaks]

VAN ECK: You were first arrested at ten

KAZ: Everyone remembers his first time

VAN ECK: Twice again that year, twice again at eleven. You were picked up at a gambling hall a few years ago and there was a warrant for your arrest six months ago - but you were found to be incorrectly charged, and haven’t served any time since you were fourteen?

[KAZ grins, shrugging]

KAZ: I cleaned up. Found honest work. Live a life of industry and prayer

VAN ECK: Don’t blaspheme

[VAN ECK’s eyes flash briefly with anger and KAZ notes it - he is keeping track of everything he knows about VAN ECK so far. He’s prosperous, pious, a widow recently remarried to a bride a similar age to KAZ, and there’s a mystery surrounding his son. VAN ECK continues to flick through the papers. As the conversation continues the camera moves between three positions: focus on KAZ, focus on VAN ECK, and a side view showing both their profiles backlit by the window]

VAN ECK: You run book on prize fights, horses, and your own games of chance. You were floor boss at the Crow Club for two years-

KAZ: Still am.

[VAN ECK frowns, looking between KAZ and the papers]

KAZ: We’ve reopened

VAN ECK, continuing as though Kaz never spoke: You’re the youngest to ever run a betting shop and you doubled its profits in that time. You’re a blackmailer -

KAZ: I broker information

VAN ECK: A con artist

KAZ: I create opportunity

VAN ECK: A bawd, and a murderer

KAZ: I don’t run whores - and I kill for a cause

VAN ECK, distastefully: And what cause is that?

KAZ: Same as yours merch: Profit

VAN ECK: How do you get your information, mister Brekker?

KAZ: You might say I’m a lockpick

VAN ECK: You must be a very gifted one

KAZ: I am indeed. You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now there are those who takes the brute’s way, but I prefer a gentler approach: the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It’s a delicate art

VAN ECK: Do you always speak in metaphors, mister Brekker?

[KAZ smiles widely]

KAZ: It’s not a metaphor

[KAZ jumps up from the chair and the chains clatter to the ground behind him. He leaps across the room towards the desk, snatching a letter opener with one hand and grabbing VAN ECK’s shirt with the other. He presses the blade against VAN ECK’s throat. KAZ is noticeably slower than usual, groggy from the injection and with no access to his cane, but he can still easily get the better of VAN ECK and the stadwatch officers in the room- and he is immediately more comfortable now he’s holding a weapon. The guards turn to him with weapons raised, a mixture of guns and swords]

KAZ: I don’t think I need to waste breath on threats. Tell me how to get to the door or I’m taking you through the window with me

VAN ECK: I think I can change your mind

KAZ: I don’t care who you are, or how big that ruby is, you don’t take me away from my own streets and you don’t try to make a deal with me when I’m in chains.

VAN ECK, calling towards the door: Mika

[A figure walks through the wall of the office in the same format of dissipating and reforming from mist as the figure in scene three and becomes a young boy, MIKA, in a slightly faded Tidemaker’s Kefta with a red laurel crest pinned to the lapel. He is clearly ill; his cheeks are hollow, there are large dark circles beneath his eyes, and his face is paled. KAZ panics - he thinks he’s hallucinating from some kind of drug Van Eck has given him]