#comic relief host

[mizgnomer]

David Tennant - Hosting Comic Relief in fantastic suits since 2009

Hosting Years: 2009, 2019, 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024

[ingravinoveritas]

David talking about Michael on the Chris Evans Breakfast Show this morning. Love that sweet smile...

|| Bonus: Whatever the fuck he is doing with his tongue here...

[venus-haze]

You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!” 

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd. 

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor. 

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too. 

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you. 

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room. 

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set. 

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in. 

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back. 

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

[solbaby7]

Life of the Party

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: typical jealousy trope, sexual themes, minors DNI, swearing, probably typos, chill boyfriend/party animal girlfriend trope

summary: A spymaster who’s restraint wears thin when his mate is invited to a costume party

—

“Oh wow,” Mor breathes out when you walk in the sitting room; heels clicking against the glossy floors as you made a bee-line for the bar cart. “Azriel’s letting you go?”

“No, which is why I’m rushing.” Your hands shake around the decanter; not with any real fear but your heartbeat does quicken at the reminder of the little white lie you’d told instead of the truth because you knew how it sounded. You, going to a party that you were invited to outside of the Night Court. “Tarquin said he’d meet me at the border.”

“A personal escort from the host himself?” Mor doesn’t bother hiding the implication in her tone and she lets out a low laugh, Amren joining in with a chuckle of her own at the way your eyes roll.

The whiskey Rhysand splurged on was warm going down and after three consecutive shots, the nerves were steadily beginning to subside. “He’s my friend.”

“Did your friend also provide you with that little outfit?”

You glance down at yourself at Armen’s slow drawl, a ruby nail pointing at your frame.

Maybe it was a little much.

The obsidian color of the fighting leather like material fits like second skin on the parts of you that they do cover. There are no sleeves, the neckline fairly tame; a deterrent to offset how much leg was on display. The see through material of the skirt flows tauntingly with each step, the two deep slits on both sides so high your hipbones showed along with the leather straps that curled around your thighs, equipped with two jeweled daggers. Two large swords crossed at your back, the hilts wrapped in blue ribbon; a small reminder of the shadowsinger. It was sexy; meant to make you appear as some warrior goddess—Azriel would never let you step foot out of the house like this. “It was a gift.”

Mor lets out a low whistle, eyes still taking in the details; the gold chains that held together some flimsy underwear that hid your modesty when the breeze cut through too hard. “He’s going to fucking kill you.”

One more shot and you swear you see a shadow lurking about in the corner. Armen smirks at your jumpiness, tucking silky hair behind a pierced ear. “Better hurry along, sounds like he just got home.”

Your eyes widen, heartbeat thumping quickly against your chest and you don’t care to let their laughter distract you when you dart from the room. You speed walk on the tips of your toes, trying to make as little noise as possible in the high heels as you prayed to the Mother above to just let you past the front door and then everything would be perfectly fine. Your hair tickles at your shoulders every time your head whips back to ensure you aren’t being followed and you finally feel the cool breeze of the night touch your skin when you bump into a large body.

The gasp that emits is comical, a little yelp, eyes wide and the relief doesn’t settle in even when you notice it’s just Cassian. “Whoa,” He mutters, bright eyes running across your frame and you pray that’s distraction enough for him to not question the way you slowly circle him, adjusting the position and finding a clear path the hell out of there the second he left. “Where are you going dressed like that?”

“Nowhere,” You breathe out, a shaky smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Have you seen Az?”

Cass smirks, taking this as you getting dressed like this for Azriel—some sexy little fantasy made reality and your shoulders immediately relax. “Went inside a couple minutes before I did. He’s probably looking for you.”

“Guess, I better hurry.” He nods, not bothering to hide the way his eyes eat at all the skin you have bared, the sultry curve of ass that peeks out the back of the skirt with each step and he barely notices you’ve gone the wrong way—leaving with a sheepish smile and a wave before you winnowed away.

It sets in when he steps inside the house, spotting Azriel turning the corner and he can’t help the words that form, even when Mor and Armen step out of the sitting room. “Az, you lucky bastard.”

The spymasters brows furrow in confusion, shadows slinking about; drifting beneath the cracks of room after room, reporting your absence back to their master. “What are you talking about?”

“That little outfit your girls got on—I’m surprised you’re even standing here right now.” Mor’s eyes widen, sharing a gaze with Armen and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Azriel’s shoulders subtly square out, spine straightening and the way golden irises darken has the otherworldly woman chuckling to herself. The pieces click without any further information and the scowl that forms on his face is positively hellish. “Did she go to that fucking party?”

Silence.

But it’s plenty answer enough.

Darkness clouds the rooms so thick it was nearly impossible to see even an inch before you and just like that it was gone and so was Azriel.

—

You let out a deep breath, nerves beginning to subside when you stand before Tarquin. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

His hand is warm when he guides your arm into his own, a large palm gentle rested over your own. “Got a bit delayed on the way over. Hope I didn’t miss anything too exciting.”

“No,” He murmurs, a smile growing in the corner of his mouth. “I believe the excitement just arrived.” Stark white hair contrasts against rich skin, Tarquin’s abdomen is exposed, the buttons of his shirt undone and left out of the waistband of his dress pants.

“Who exactly are you supposed to be?”

“I’m a High Lord, I’m not obligated to participate in such things.”

The cool breeze cuts through the thin material, all your exposed skin doing little to stave off the elements but the warmth radiating from the man beside you is enough to hold you over until you breach the main doors. Everyone was dressed in all types of extravagant outfits, some so revealing you wondered if it were a costume at all. “Glad to see that title hasn’t inflated your ego.”

“I’m sure it’ll be much more manageable after a drink or two.”

Two drinks quickly turned to five and then after a few more you’d shuck off to a corner to roll up the mirthroot Mor had generously slid your way a few weeks back. Golden light casts over the room in a sultry glow, music alluring and your hips are moving from side to side without being told. The smoke trickles from your mouth, smile growing as your worries began to fade. You could feel the eyes, the lusty gazes and Tarquin’s genuine joy from just watching.

You’re too caught up in the moment, mirthroot burning between two fingers when the shadowsinger arrives, his intent march abruptly stopped by the High Lord of the Summer Court. Cassian follows close by, Mor and Rhys a few paces behind and their steps abruptly halt when they see you. Perched up on a raised structure, your hips sway in sync with the music, hair flowing behind you and the blue ribbons attached to the swords flutter with each movement. “You,” Azriel all but hisses but Tarquin doesn’t so much as flinch. “—a terrible, horrible influence.”

“Relax," Tarquin drawls out, obviously somewhat affected by the few glasses of wine he'd indulged in. "-- look at her,” Az's hands clench in fists at his sides but the spymaster can’t help the way his eyes shift to you, to the costume and the color you donned; the smoke huffing from your nose like a dragon emerging from her cave for the night and Azriel forgets about what he was mad about in the first place. “She’s just having fun.”

More than having fun.

You were positively the life of the party, others beginning to gather around, watching the warrior of a woman dancing like no one else was there. Your head dips back and Azriel finds his eyes trained on the column of your neck, mouth closing as whatever response he’d originally intended to give the High Lord completely died on his tongue. Something in the way Tarquin remains trained on you has Azriel's shadows go on edge, sizing up the man baring so much skin; lean muscle on display and bright eyes are fixed on the way you move. "Watch this," He mutters, living vicariously through you and Azriel begins to question the true intentions behind the High Lords friendship with you. "It's her favorite part." Water begins to trickle down like fresh rain after weeks of sweltering heat and Azriel's heart actually swells when he hears the laugh you let out; hands raised above your hand to catch the cool drops.

It soaks through your clothes, the flimsy material of your skirt sticking to your thighs and Azriel is acutely aware of exactly how much skin you have on display and the plethora of males and females in the crowd beginning to recognize that same thing. Even Rhysand has a brow raised, head slowly tilting to the side when a particularly obscene about of ass flashes, gold chains holding underwear in place glistening under the flame light.

Azriel doesn't even need to trudge through the sea of sweaty bodies to get to you; eyes catching after turning to send a grateful smile to Tarquin and for a split second your whole body freezes. You recover quickly but you come down from the stand much quicker, body dripping and hair sticking to your neck. The closer you approach your mate, the more aware you become of the smell of the mirthroot stuck to your clothes, lacing your breath and Az doesn't seem swayed in the slightest by the sweet smile you offer him when you reach. "Nice party, right?"

Aureate irises drag down the length of your frame, catching on the parts of you made visible from the impromptu shower and Az can't help but be a little disappointed to see your makeup still in place. He'd always got a little frenzied when he saw you all messy; eyeshadow smeared and mascara dripping down your cheeks while he fucked off the sticky lipgloss that smelled like cherries. The evaluation pauses at the holsters wrapped around your thighs, jewels in shades of blue intricately welded together on the daggers peeking out the sodden skirt. "It would appear so," Shadows curl around your legs, avoiding the gift of a costume as if it were toxic waste. "I hope you enjoyed it because we are going home."

"But, I just got here."

"Yeah, Shadowsinger," Tarquin tacks on and Az's hand twitches to punch him; to wipe that smug grin off his face and to demand Rhys erase decades of memories the two of you had made before ever even meeting Azriel because no other male should be this comfortable with you. "She just got here and she hasn't even begun to make a dent in the bag of mirthroot Mor got her." The blonde in question huffs, eyes going a little wide but she doesn't seem too worried-- confident that whatever Az had planned for you was far worse than anything he could conjure up for her.

"Actually, he's right," You pull away from the High Lord with a warm smile, offering a hug and thanks for everything and Cassian hides the laugh that grows at the sight of Azriel's jaw clenched so tight; shadows just itching to slice off the hand that lingered a little too low in the dip of your back. "We should be getting home."

Az wastes no time tugging you to his side, nose grazing your temple when whispering in your ear. "When we get back take these clothes off but leave those on." Shadows twist at the fat of your thigh, around the holsters and the weapons they held. "Only those."

A smile grows, pupils blown and the way you glance up through thick lashes has his cock hardening in his pants. "Yes, sir."

[rubbish-taste1234]

Maid to the Shadow King

The marble floors of Ouran High School glistened under the morning sun, casting a polished reflection of the opulent chandeliers above. The grand hallways echoed with the rhythmic tapping of designer shoes and the melodious hum of idle conversation. Amidst this sea of calm, a sudden burst of frenetic energy broke the tranquility.

A girl, her cheeks flushed with urgency and her breath coming in desperate gasps, sprinted down the hallway. Her maid uniform was slightly askew, the ribbon at her collar barely hanging on. She dodged past students with an agility born of pure panic, her eyes scanning every corner, every nook, searching frantically.

"Where is he? Oh no, oh no, oh no!" she muttered under her breath, her mind racing even faster than her legs. She had one job, one simple task: look after the boy. But in the labyrinthine corridors of the elite academy, he had vanished as if into thin air.

Her thoughts spiraled into worst-case scenarios. What if he got lost? What if he was in trouble? The boy was the familys next patriarch after all. And she, entrusted with his care, had let him slip away.

She turned another corner, almost colliding with a group of giggling girls, and skidded to a halt. Ahead of her was the music room. Desperation guiding her actions, she decided to check inside. If there was one place in this grandiose school where she might find him, it was here.

With a quick prayer, she pushed open the ornate double doors and was immediately greeted by a flurry of rose petals. They fluttered around her like a dream, the sweet fragrance momentarily distracting her from her mission. As the petals settled, she blinked, taking in the scene before her.

Standing in a dramatic triangle formation were seven boys, each dressed in elaborate knight costumes, complete with capes and faux armor that glinted in the light.To the right of this formation, adjusting his glasses, stood the raven-haired boy she had been desperately searching for.

"Welcome to the Ouran Host Club," they chorused in unison, their voices harmonizing perfectly.

She stared, wide-eyed and breathless, at the theatrical spectacle before her. 

Her heart was still racing, but now it was from a mix of relief and something else entirely. She took a deep breath, gathering her composure. "Master Kyoya," she began, her tone respectful yet firm, "you can't just disappear like that. You know I have my duties to attend to."

Kyoya adjusted his glasses, his expression remaining steady. "My apologies. I didn't mean to cause you any distress."

She straightened her maid uniform, trying to maintain her professionalism despite the surreal setting. "Please, inform me next time you decide to... participate in such activities. It's my responsibility to ensure your well-being."

The other hosts watched the exchange with amused interest, their expressions ranging from curiosity to admiration for her steadfast demeanour. Kyoya nodded, his expression calm and respectful. "I'll keep you informed."

With a final nod, she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, Master Kyoya."

As she turned to leave, she gently pulled the ornate double doors closed behind her. The soft click of the latch echoed through the room, marking her exit.

The moment the doors were shut, the remaining hosts turned their heads in unison, their expressions a comical mix of curiosity and mischief. All eyes were now on Kyoya, waiting for an explanation.

Tamaki, with his pale-blond hair shimmering in the light, was the first to speak, his violet eyes wide with excitement. "Kyoya, who was that girl? She seemed so serious!"

Honey, the smallest and most cheerful of the group, perched on Mori's shoulders, clasped his hands together, flowers practically blooming around his head. "Yeah, Kyoya! She was cute! Does she like cake?"

Mori, stoic as ever, simply nodded in agreement, his dark eyes observing Kyoya with a hint of curiosity.

The Hitachiin twins, Hikaru and Kaoru, shared a conspiratorial grin. Hikaru leaned forward, his amber eyes glinting with mischief. "Is she a new club member?"

Kaoru, standing next to his twin with his hair parted to the left, added with a smirk, "Or maybe she's your secret girlfriend, Kyoya-senpai?"

Haruhi, ever practical and straightforward, crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Who is she, really? She seemed very concerned about you."

Kyoya adjusted his glasses, his expression calm and collected as always. "She's simply someone who takes her responsibilities seriously. There's no need for unnecessary speculation."

Tamaki, never one to be easily dissuaded, leaned in closer, his enthusiasm undiminished. "But Kyoya, she called you 'Master.' There's got to be more to this story!"

Kyoya sighed softly, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "As I said, she is someone responsible for my well-being. Nothing more, nothing less."

The hosts exchanged glances, clearly unconvinced but willing to let the matter rest, for now. The room fell silent for a moment, each of them pondering the unexpected encounter.

Finally, Kyoya spoke again, his tone signaling the end of the discussion. "Now, if we're done with this interrogation, we have guests to attend to."

With that, the hosts resumed their preparations, the curiosity lingering in the air but the immediate focus shifting back to their duties. SHOULD I CONTINUE THIS?? this is a reader x ohshc with the reader being a maid I just wanted to do something while I had free time and I kind of remembered fanfics exist 🤗

[thewideawakechronicles]

Hello! And welcome to my ask blog!

There are a few things I want to put down as a start, just so everyone is aware.

1. Please refrain from any nsfw things. Jokes or not. We have young characters in this blog. Please dont.

2. I may be a bit slow with responses! So please be patient.

3. You may have powers! But they need to be toned down and kept at a reasonable level. And please refrain from any powerplaying.

4. There may be some very sore themes, so just be aware/prepared.

5. I want to keep the tone a bit more serious and refrain from things that may be a little too crazy, but, obviously we can still have breaks here and there(mostly stuff that's some sort of comic relief or wholesome).

6. Designs will sometimes fluctuate here and there. Please do not be alarmed if someone's appearance suddenly changes!(I literally can not make up my mind. I am so sorry)

I want to keep this as fun and as smooth as possible, so everyone can enjoy this. And I hope it stays that way. As long as people play by and respect the rules, everything should be alright. Please enjoy!

Also, say hello to my wonderful bestie and co-host of the blog, @marbledmoonstone! Please go check our xyr ask blog as well! @ask-styx-and-friends

[watermelonsugacry]

James corden and harry and yn pleeeeeeeaasee

The Final Late Late Show

A/N: how are you lovies?! its been a minute since I've posted but i just HAD to write about this as soon as I saw it! 💚

SUMMARY: For the final Late Late Show, YN and Harry are two of the three final guests. Here are some snippets from the final episode! (2.5k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married!ynrry, famous!reader

SINCE 2010 masterlist

“Joining us also, he’s the biggest superstar in the world. He’s a three-time Grammy winner. He’s your friend, he’s my friend. Harry Styles is here tonight!”

Harry’s dimple smile appears from the small window on the door. “Hi, mate! Man, terrible timing with this door thing, eh?...Cause it’s yeh last show.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” James dramatically sighs in frustration.

“I mean what are the chances, you know? Absolute disaster,” Harry humorously rolls his eyes with a smile. “...cause it’s yeh last show.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware that it’s my last show, Harry, thank you very much! I don’t need anybody to tell me that. Nobody knows that more than me. This is a disaster!” 

“James! James!” YN steps in next to her husband and peaks through the tiny window through the door. 

“YN! Oh, thank God!” The talk show host sighs in relief. “Also joining us tonight is the multi-talented mega star of the century. She’s another dear friend of mine and married to this guy right here. Everybody give it up for YN YLN-Styles!”

She gives a small wave before turning her attention back to the host. “Don't worry, James. V’got everything under control,” YN says with a confident nods of her head.

“Oh, that’s great to hear. So you’ve called security to get the doors unlocked then?”

“Umm...no.” Fans can see Harry’s lips tucked in frown, shaking his head along to his wife’s words. “But I’ve got this fire extinguisher that m’gonna use to bash in the window.”

The audience members yell and cheer excitedly as they see YN hold up the red object and ask everyone to stand back. But before she can take a swing, the voice on the intercom lets them know that the door issue has been resolved.

...

“Everyone, please give it up for the one and only, Mrs. YN YLN-Styles!”

When the curtains zip open, YN has her back to the crowd. She comically looks over her shoulder and playfully acts surprised at the screaming crowd. As she walks down the stairs, everyone is able to see her full outfit for the night. Her white skirt and top combo hug her curves in just the right places but her (and Harry’s) favorite part has to be the white stain roses that hold the slide slit of her dress in place.

She smiles and gives high fives to the audience members as she passes them by. When she gets to James’s parents in the audience, she gives them kisses on both of their cheeks. And once she’s reached the stage, she happily takes her husband’s outreached hand as he helps her up the short steps.

When the third guest of the night makes his way onto the stage, Harry puts a hand on YN’s back and shuffles them over to the corner at what’s to come. They watch as Will takes swing after swing at James’s desk with a sledgehammer, destroying it into pieces. While Harry’s face expresses one of remorse over the obliterated scene, YN puts a fist over her smile as she laughs.

...

“Then you and your former bandmate turned wife—” James presents the couple sitting next to each other on the couch with a grand hand swing of his hands as he looks out to the screaming audience. “—came on the show a few years ago as a band. Then again when Harry hosted for the first time where you, YN, were one of the featured guests for that night. And you guys even played a game of Spill Your Guts Or Fill Your Guts.”

With the mention of the atrocious food game, James mentions how Will Ferrell loves the game so much that he specifically requested for them to play it one more time. Each guest is given their own cards with their questions on them and an obscene food concoction to eat if they do not want to answer their question. 

Soon after, YN claps along with everyone else but her jaw is on the floor at the hefty scoop and bite Will takes from his nasty food arrangement despite not having to do so. 

“Yeh really enjoyed that didn’t yeh?” She teases.

“It’s like Thanksgiving,” Will responds around a mouth full of bug trifles. “Alright, your turn YN.”

“Okay, mine says...” She says as she slowly gets the card out. Harry leans over to her to get a peek at the question and immediately lets out a chuckle, trying to cover it up with a cough to his fist but fails. “Uh oh. When and where did you and Harry have your first kiss together?”

The crowd goes into a frantic frenzy at the possibility of getting official confirmation of the heavily researched and hypothesized answer. She wiggles her brows in a playful manner towards her husband and it only makes him laugh harder. 

She contemplates on revealing the answer, it is the last show after all...but where’s the fun in that?

“Umm...” She hides her smile behind the purple card before shrugging her shoulders. “Guess m’taking a bite out of a grasshopper.”

“I’ll do one with you,” Will generously offers, already reaching for one of the little bugs in the small bowl. They clink their grasshoppers together before plopping them past their lips. While Will happily reaches for seconds, YN puts on a strained, pained smile as she chews. 

“Mmm, yummy,” She sarcastically says, making James let out one of his high-pitched laughs. She gladly takes the mug from Harry’s giving hands to rinse her mouth of the odd taste.

When Harry reads his question asking if there will be a One Direction reunion, the crowd erupts in screams once again. The couple gives each other a humorous look, absolutely eating up the way the audience goes crazy at the mention of their band.

“I think if there was a time where we all felt that that was something we wanted to do—” Harry’s interrupted by Will mocking the crowd awing and cooing at the mention of their old band. It has the two former band members giggling before he continues. “Then I don’t see why we wouldn’t.”

“YN, this question kind of goes to you as well,” James offers.

“Yeah, I mean. I totally agree with everything he said. We’re definitely not opposed to it. If it happens, it happens.”

“I’ll take that as a yes!” James exclaims. “I mean, we already have a permanent, mini reunion with the two of you being married.”

“Wait, you guys are married?” Will dramatically questions with faux confusion that makes everyone in the room laugh. 

“Wait, wait, can we please get a close up of this really quick,” James frantically moves his hands as the couple holds up their hands to show their wedding rings. It’s in this moment that fans realize that the two of them aren’t wearing any of their regular set of rings across their fingers, solely the ones that signify their promise to love one another forevermore. 

...

“Who’s more talented? Will Farrell, YN YLN-Styles or Harry Styles?”

There’s no forethought or second guessing with the couple’s response to immediately vouch for Will. 

“Sustainable talent,” Harry points out with a sweep of his hand.

“There’s literally nothing this man can’t do,” YN compliments.

The couple breaks out in bright smiles when Will begins to sing a solemn version of As It Was. But what has YN turning into a fit of giggles, her head leaning back as she hovers her hands over her mouth is when the famous comedian begins to sing 34+35 with a strong vibrato. 

It’s then Will’s turn to let out a string of giddy chuckles when James then asks the married couple to do an impression of the comedic actor.

“Ladies first,” Harry quickly says with a tap on his wife’s hand.

“Hmm...Oh okay, ‘ve out it.” YN comically clears her throat and readjusts herself on the couch. “Yeh ready for this? I’m singing. I’m in a store and I’m singing. I’m in a store, and I’m singing!” 

Will doubles over in laughter, applauding along with everyone else at her spot-on impression. As The Roots plays a snippet of celebration music, YN stands from her seat and takes a grand bow. 

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you, YN,” Will turns his attention to the pop star next to him. When she gives an encouraging nod of her head, he continues with a professionally acted sense of genuine curiosity, “What exactly does 34+35 mean?” 

While everyone else in the room breaks out into laughter, YN lifts her gaze to the ceiling as she contemplates how to explain the sexual song. She tries to hide her smile by tucking in her lips but it's really hard to keep it professional when there’s an iconic actor asking that type of question. Even Harry has his face in his hands, his shoulder bouncing as he laughs.

She clears her throat as she adjusts her skirt and places her clasped hands over her crossed legs. She goes to open her mouth to answer but instead leans over to whisper the answer in the actor’s ear with a cupped hand instead.

“So it’s not about solving a math problem?!” Will dramatically exclaims.

“Harry, what’s your impression of Will?” YN says through a laugh, playfully attempting to change the subject. 

Without saying a word, Harry gets up from his seat, grabs the sledgehammer, and smashes what’s left of James’s desk. YN puts her fingers in the corner of her mouth and blows a loud whistle at the sight before them as everyone else applauds with a mixture of cheering.

When it’s time for James to answer his question, he says, “So, we’ve known each other for quite some time, haven’t we? I would even go as far as to consider you both as family.” The married couple nods their heads in agreement. “But A, I watch Elf every year on Christmas. And B, I didn’t get an invitation to your wedding so,” James gives a shrug of his shoulders as the audience goes crazy.

...

In between a commercial break, fans and crew members record the interactions happening on the main stage. While James goes over to talk with Will, everybody else focuses on the married couple.

A cheeky sound technician plays Late Night Talking as background music. They watch as the two of them mouth along to the words and cheekily dance in their seats as they get lost in their own little world.

The fans watch them with hearts in their eyes. On some parts of the song, the couple will do the same little dance moves together, speculating that they do this behind closed doors as well: rolling their arms like they’re going to hit the woah, hands up and slicing the air in front of them as they move their upper bodies, and dramatically swiveling their heads to the funky beat—every move has them end up laughing quietly to one another. 

It reminds the OG fans of how the two would be on their third world tour with the band. They’re easily reminded of when the two of them would sit next to each other on the raised platforms on the humongous catwalk and get distracted from singing. They would lean into each other, talking in one another’s ears, and squeeze their eyes shut as laughter overtook them. Almost a decade later and the two still act like a couple of love-sick teenagers.

There’s even a part during the chorus where Harry gets up from his seat to move his hips with a swing of his elbow; YN does the same movements but from her sitting down position. 

When the couple turns their attention to the cheering crowd, Harry points to his wife and mouths, “She produced the song!” 

...

“And to add onto that,” YN places a hand on Harry’s arm after he complimented James. “I think I can speak for both of us in that we’re so grateful to have met yeh. You’ve been such a great friend to the both of us and I’m just super excited for what’s ahead of yeh.”

James pulls the both of them into a group hug from their spots on the couch and the audience laughs when Will scoots up to join the hug as well. YN can’t hold back the laugh that tumbles past her lips as the comedian reaches over her and her husband to pat James on the back.

When Will begins his mini speech to compliment the host on his hard work in the late night talk show industry, in the process he calls England a “shithole of a country.” While everyone knows he means it in a playful way and while the comment has James laughing, the married couple raise their eyebrows, purse their lips, and nod their head as they take the diss. 

And while Will tries to continue what he has to say, it's not long before Harry gets up from his seat and grabs the sledgehammer.

“Hold him down, lovie,” He tells his wife who's already playfully reaching her angry fingers toward Will. 

...

The Late Late music provided by The Roots mixes with the ear-piercing screams from the audience as they watch what’s happening backstage. Harry’s already sat in the photobooth’s seat and gently tugs his wife into his lap. She wraps an arm around the tops of his shoulders as they get ready for their picture to be taken. She tilts her head to touch his as he fully wraps his arms around her middle. 

Right before the countdown reaches its end, his fingers dig into the ticklish part in her side and she jolts up in a laugh. Just in time, the picture captures YN’s bright, open-mouthed smile, her eyes squeezed shut and her nose cutely scrunched up; her husband’s expression matches similarly to her own. 

In the end, the picture ends up in the middle of three pictures on the collaged wall: one of the band during their last Late Late interview as a four piece. YN is sitting in the middle of the group with a sly smile on her face as her long haired band mate has a hand on her shoulder. On the other side, one of Harry’s solo shots of when he first came on the show as a solo artist, and beside that one is one of YN when she came on the show when Harry hosted. At the time, her hair was barely below her ears, her naturally curly hair looked like a cloud on her head. She has one eye squinted shut, her tongue peaking out from between her teeth as she holds up a peace sign. 

Looking at the pictures in front of them, they reminisce on their shared history of being on this show. The Late Late studio has seen these two back when they were merely bandmates, secretly pining over one another with so many barriers in their way. It’s seen how they came back on the show as solo artists a few years later. It was a perfectly timed occasion for the both of them as they hid their secret relationship away from the public eye with a live audience and cameras in their faces. 

And now, as the last guests on the show, the studio sees the pair happily married and more in love with one another than they’ve ever been before.

.

.

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305 @tiaamberxx

[spotlightlowlife]

Loona is a whole missed opportunity

Loona is Loona, someone who has had plenty of time to see her dads situation for what it is and she's old enough to understand, but this would deviated from the rude and sarcastic, edgy and always bored 20 something whoes minimal progress always gets squashed by her own attitude. Like Blitzø, Loona falls victim to 'had a hard life and that's the justification, oh and they're only ever punching up which is fine, oh and comic relief', but where Blitzø's words and actions make a some difference to the story, Loona's make none.

We know Loona to be an excellent tracker because she is a canine, she has something that is hers and hers alone, it would then fit that she would be the one to find runaway Octavia. Their heatt to heart consisted of guilt tripping Octavia, a child who had the right to be upset, for being too hard on her disinterested dad, this was hypocritical of Loona who mistreats her loving dad but so easily could have been growth for her.

Since she had just got done viciously physically attacking Blitzø, trashed his workplace and making a scene infront of their colleagues for discreetly attempting to address her intentional poor conduct at work, did her own advice to virtual strangers hit home and make her reflect? No, she kicked the worried Blitzø in the nuts, with no regard for Stolas or Octavia's presence, the fact that she has just pushed compassion on the reasonable teenager she influenced, no regard for how she looked in the least. Sensibility gone.

The episode were we meet Verosika and the gang end up on a beach showed us that Loona knows transformation magic, the first example of her having an important skill her team don't, yet when did she learn this skill no other leading character has? How is it possible that she has resorces Blitzø doesn't have? Why does she have more common sense than anyone else? What else does she get up to in her spare time? Why is this not a bigger deal?

This was her best episode because it raised questions that have yet to be answered about her, one being her lack of reaction to Verosika, which could have helped us build a timeline.

We would also learnt that she is friendless and not comfortable with this, she is no edgelord around a new peer but an awkward young woman who doesn't socialize much, helped and not helped by the person she's nervous around is someone she is clearly crushing on.

Loona also showed that she is capable of feeling guilt for her mean ways, but that was only because she got called out a little by this new peer she just met who she fancies, so it's hard to give her credit and many episodes later, it made no difference to her growth.

Loona finds out that the guy she just met has a girlfriend, which for her is a bummer, but he invites her to one of their parties where she can mingle, which is excellent. In a future episode Loona does attend the party but as expected she is unnecessarily rude to multiple party goers for no good reason, to no detriment.

She goes on to meet Bee, the host, who happens to be her crushed girlfriend, who happens to be high up royalty, a whole district leader and gluttony itself, instantly Loona is threatened because "she's hot" and it's not long before Loona is rude to Bee, as usual, to no detriment.

We actually had the opportunity to address the dog shelter Loona was living in, signed off on by queen Bee. Loona could have had a subplot that was just hers, but yet again, hierarchy means nothing, she doesn't know who Bee is and doesn't appear to have any political views.

Loona chooses to give the party another chance when another 'cute guy' approaches her, who we never see again, with Blitzø turning up for this party and receiving a positive reception, Loona is now happy to show him off as her dad, gets closer with him and goes on to show him kindness, but alas, this doesn't carry on to future episodes.

All these two episodes taught us was that though she's sad, she is a Pickme and like a school child will jump on the bandwagon of what will grant her instant popularity. These actually are not bad things, they're good, they are at the heart of a lot of people's failure to find themselves along with their crowd. If only we were allowed to explore her shallowness and loneliness more, her need to compete with other women and not be like other girls. This would start by her actions actually resulting in something.

There is an abundance of teen mean girls in media to study that could help give Loona more substance, explore the numberours things she may gave missed out on during her childhood.

Let her be a user, let her smugness at knowing she gets away with her horrible ways be challenged by maybe revisiting her work 'assessment' and addressing her fat jokes at Moxxie, maybe we could know what it is she's constantly viewing on her phone too? Just look at how Stolas validated his feelings with the dramatic telenovela in that tiny little scene.

The episode where Blitzø and Moxxie were abducted gave us a level headed Loona who got along fine with Millie dispite being rude to her for mo reason, it made it clear they they don't talk at all, yet immediately and many episodes later nothing has come of their excellent team work and friendliness, nothing has come of level headed Loona, she has actually gotten more unpleasant. Sensibility gone again.

This latest episode, crescent moon, had us hear from Loona again for the first time in a while (personal reasons took the VA away from work) and what we got between Loona and Blitzø was a proof that they are no parent and child, smugly suggesting that Stolas is simply getting bored of Blitzø and that she too employs tactics of ignoring him shows us her level of immaturity, she is old enough to know what's going on and capable of empathy, her apathy and meanness is a choice, we saw her self censoring at Bee's party, we saw her trying to impress Tex, we saw her quickly get thought to Octavia who is nothing like her and it was Loona who was kind to Blitzø at their home when he was drunk, sad and opened up about being alone. Sensible and caring initiated because she was impressed which is a huge take away Loona? What did any of that matter? We can't have these aspects aswell as unbothered wise cracking Loona at the same time, even though character duality is out there, it's one or the other with this character and the other has to be prompted to suit the plot on the occasion something actually happens, one is an intention bully who is ignored, it's hard to say tolerated when her actions don't matter at all.

I guarantee Loona's character improve if this series stuck to the main plot more and we saw them working most of time?

Since she really could do with her own thing, the property damage she caused in crescent moon coming back to bite her would be the making of her best storyline to date. Community give back would let her learn new skills and mingle.

Lastly, she as good as throws on a cape for Stolas yet again. Since the tone is that Blitzø needs to come to his senses and hook up with his abuser, why not have Loona be part of this plot and let her commit to wanting a rich stepdad and the perceived popularity that comes with it?

[itsdrawingmen]

We need to talk about Zen.

Every character in Mystic Messenger is a tragic one, and the Casual Story trio is often disregarded in that respect. But there is one character for whom I’ve hardly seen it explored at all. Maybe it’s because his route sucks such major ass, or because he’s honestly a bit of an asshole, misogynistic, homophobic, and ableist; or maybe it’s because his trauma is only briefly, fleetingly mentioned, as he and his friends refer to it, and then quickly brush it aside.

Zen Ryu, beautiful, stupid, and self-absorbed, is, on the surface, a perfect comic relief character, a beloved himbo, brash but well-intentioned. And I think this wonderful actor has been playing that role so well that he has fooled everyone, including the fandom.

Some character exploration and the uncropped art under the cut.

It’s no secret that Zen’s selfishness is nothing but a coping mechanism, masking a deep-set fear of inadequacy and paralysing self-doubt. It’s stated explicitly by Ray in Another Story, and it’s pretty evident from the way Zen is quick to worry there’s nothing more to him than his looks.

It’s obvious where he got it, considering how his mother treated him and his passions, and how his brother turned his back on him when he needed him the most. But there are more things I haven’t seen discussed anywhere, and I have a lot of thoughts and headcanons, and simply questions, so let’s start from the very beginning.

It’s made very clear in Zen’s route that his early life was… well, horrible. As early as kindergarten, he started getting singled out for his looks. Strangers kept staring at him and wanting to touch him, which bothered his mother.

Instead of getting on their child’s side, little Hyun’s parents tried to convince him he was ugly, to ‘humble’ him. It’s said that they just wanted him to be successful and to have a stable, secure life. Well, good intentions pave the road to hell, as it’s said. What they got as a result was a child who was harassed and stalked at school and in the streets with no one to confide in but his brother, who didn’t explicitly dismiss it, but still made light of it.

A little interesting point:

Make a note here of the ‘protection’ line, because I will get back to it later.

Anyway, whatever small support and understanding little Hyun’s brother provided him with, it wasn’t meant to last. Zen states that their parents treated them so differently they effectively separated them.

When he entered middle school and found passion for music, what his mother saw was her son turning to a precarious road and basically undermining his future. When she tried to convince him his dreams were stupid, Hyun’s brother took her side, leaving Hyun without the last person in his family who supported him. So little Hyun ran away from home, and thus began the story of Zen.

And here is where things get interesting. Zen left home when he was in middle school. A middle schooler in South Korea is anywhere between 12 and 15 years old. And a person living on their own must eat something and sleep somewhere. But here’s the catch: you can only rent if you are at least 19 (I’m assuming, Korean-19, so 18), and you can technically work part-time jobs starting at 13, but you need parental permission for that. And for any full-time job you must be 18. And this is the first big question with no easy answer: how did little Hyun survive after he left home? Where did he live, and what did he eat?

We can assume that for a while, he stayed with his friends, whom he for some reason tried to hide from his parents.

However, it would have been problematic for him to make it a long-term arrangement. If his friends were teenagers like him, their parents would be likely to tell his family where he was so that they would come collect their son. And if the friends were older and employed, it’s doubtful they would be well off enough to host a dependent long-term, unless there was something sinister going on. So the question remains: where did he live and what did he eat?

He mentions part-time jobs and extortion as sources of income, he worked night shifts to make ends meet, and there are also the mysterious 'bad things' that we will get back to later. But there are more variables here than just money.

Well, as far as I can tell, the answer to that is right here:

And now, I want you to stop for a moment and think about what this implies.

A child in his early teens (I like to assume 13-14), and a very pretty child at that, with a history of harassment that was never addressed, let alone stopped, finds himself on the street (at this point, we can presume: homeless and hungry). And he catches the eye of gangsters. Perhaps it’s my fresh experience watching ‘Banana Fish’ speaking (definitely not, I've had this conviction basically since I saw 'bad things' mentioned), but I want to really ask you: what do you think gangsters are likely to do with a beautiful and vulnerable young boy, besides use him for petty crimes Zen admits on the screens above? What 'bad things' could he have been forced to do to survive?

This admission by Zen himself doesn’t help my train of thoughts at all:

Of course, this is said in the context of exploitation at work, but given the gangs and the ‘bad things’, one can’t help but draw a connection.

Besides, this is where that screen I told you to take note of comes into play. Zen says that after middle school, he understood what his parents were trying to protect him from, essentially what dangers being pretty entailed. It couldn’t have been the usual harassment that he had been facing since kindergarten, he would have understood that by then. Another interesting point is that for someone with a gangster past, Zen is suspiciously gender nonconforming in his looks, and mellow in general demeanour. Yes, he’s rough around the edges, he’s homophobic, misogynistic, and foul-mouthed, but he isn’t really violent. Someone who used to fit in with gangs, especially as a youth, I would think, looks and acts differently. And this all takes me to a very grim conclusion: I firmly don’t believe that a good-looking and vulnerable child with no support network and with a history of harassment survived in gangs without being molested or sexually exploited once.

But let’s not delve into my headcanons and continue with the facts we have. These bits and pieces that come together to form a picture of Zen’s teenage years already paint a pretty morbid picture. But he made it big, became an actor, and left it all behind, and he’s happy in the canon timeline, right? Right?!

Wrong.

The most obvious thing is the contents of Zen’s fridge, which Jaehee points out when she goes to see him.

It’s referenced many times in the game, Zen lightheartedly says he often skips meals and in general eats pretty badly, and I think even V refers to it. And it’s easy to chalk it up to his insane diets and the expectations of his body and looks that he has to maintain to stay in the industry. Or, if you are a little like me and like to assume the worst, you can also attribute it to Zen’s borderline self-harming workaholism. But I think there’s a little bit more to it, and the key to it is actually where Zen lives.

I remember being a little confused as to why everyone was surprised that Zen lived in a semi-basement.

But I didn’t give it much thought, after all, semi-basements seem to be cheaper here as well, and Zen’s flat looked pretty nice on CGs (if extremely beige). And it wasn’t until recently when I was talking to a colleague about his friend sharing her experience in Korea that I learned that semi-basements were actually a signature dwelling of the poorest, and seemingly a clearly understandable trope for a Korean. Those semi-basement apartments are often at risk of flooding, which is apparently a well-known fact, and also why they’re supposed to be banned as residential quarters. And, of course, Zen is quick to tell everyone he likes that place with poor ventilation and little sunlight, because it’s Zen, after all. He has that working class mentality because he’s cool, and he likes underground apartments and old tech.

But it seems that the picture of his present life is also pretty grim. Now, I’m not in South Korea, and I know little about how theatre actors are paid there, but I can tell you what I know from several actor/actress friends here in Ukraine: theatre actors aren’t, unfortunately, paid shit. Even the ones you recognise and talk about, working in cool popular theatres, drop over half of their salary to rent a shitty apartment, and are left wondering what they’re going to eat. So it seems pretty likely to me that Zen’s empty fridge, old computer and mp3 player, daily subway commute, and semi-basement apartment all point to one simple fact: he’s simply poor.

And to make it worse, he seems to be extremely lonely.

I’m pretty sure he also mentions isolating himself when he’s feeling bad, but I can’t seem to find screenshots for that anywhere.

All that said, when the fandom looks at Zen, they see a self-absorbed himbo, the ‘don’t kill yourself you so sexy aha’ type of guy. And he is, and I think he’s hilarious, and I’m the first one to laugh at him tbh. But when I look at him for a little longer than a second, I see a young man who has been harassed to hell and back starting as early as kindergarten, who never graduated from school, who ran away from home in his early teens, worked multiple jobs, and still had to resort to crime to make ends meet. I see a young man who was once a vulnerable teen at the mercy of gangsters, who had to learn that all help comes with strings attached. And I see a young man struggling silently with poverty while maintaining a facade of a glamorous and charming actor.

And I think the charming actor has fooled everyone.

[satuwn]

i have decided to randomly infodump about my lab rats as a way to motivate myself to: 1) revamp existing characters old refs and 2) DRAW THE GD REFERENCES OF THE REST OF THE BITCHES (this will probably take me ages still. alas), more rambly details abt the story and characters under the cut

the main characters: Dr. Kitty Whisker and her twin sibling Happy(tbd), Dr. Brainworms, Gummi (comic relief character mostly), Prof. Fuzzybottom(tbd) and Prof. Snakebite (previously known as prof. pinky, i need to redesign him more heavily)

the side characters (these guys may have side stories of their own but theyre mostly just an excuse for me to design more weird lab rats): Prof. Smartypants - ref to be finished, ferret with a brain of a human, she is my 'authors blatant self insert' into my own story lol; Fishsticks (drawn, a dissected mouse/frog stitched together), (the rest of these dont have names yet) a rat/chick hybrid with funy lil chicken legs, a rat/gator/shark hybrid she is punk and goth and she Bites, a mouse/cat dna mix with a surprisingly tragic backstory that im still working out, more tba

each lab rat represents usually an amalgamation of different experiments as the lab they are in is 'cheap' with their test subjects and likes to Repurpose old, usually failed experiments and do other stuff to them! honestly even if theyre a success they still end up getting experimented on more lol but they are still unimportant enough and the lab big enough where they can hide themselves away and have their own space w/o being actively searched for. ofc the world of the setting is based on our own reality but way more Hyperreal, i dont aim to represent logical feats of science bc a lot of these guys would defs be revolutionary (and impossible) irl lol. i will briefly run down what each main character is a result of but ideally id like to go into more detail when i actually. make the story more visual in whatever format i decide to do (probably experimental and non linear snippets, i dont think im smart enough for a full comic)

Dr. Kitty and Happy are twins! they were the result of an experiment where the scientists were testing if one species of rodent could gestate a different species of rodent just thru a little genetic modification. and that was Happy! he is actually a bunny born from a rat mother and with all rat siblings (one of them being Kitty) hes a bit smaller in stature than a usual bunny being more rat sized but other than that just a bnuuy! further experiments on them was how well skin grafting would work between different yet similar species. it worked for Kitty (hence the bunny ear) but not so much for Happy... both of them had separate experiments done on them also, altho Kitty was more rebellious of the two earning her the shock collar. Happy also had experiments on his fur to make it color changing like a chameleon, as well as some experiments to his eye (tbd)

Dr. Brainworms is actually a sapient amoeba/bacteria type thing, attached to a host body(that happens to be a hairless rat), this host body is her most compatible one as she Can overtake and control other bodies but they start to decay pretty quickly. her history is something she herself is trying to find out as her host body is its own mystery.. is she just an amoeba that gainted sentience? is her mind really her own? was this body maybe always hers? who knows!

Gummi is a jelly belly gummy rat candy brought to life, pretty self explanatory... but shes got a few mysteries of her own! like, why was she even created, for what purpose, i mean who could even do such advanced science anyway to bring an inorganic candy to life, and Why does she keep talking abt a scientist with green gloves when there arent any scientists like that around?

Prof. Fuzzybottom is a rabbit! she used to be just used for breeding new test subjects which left her pretty traumatized not being able to keep any of her children, she became infertile from the stress so she was repurposed for other experiments, like trying to turn her fur to naturally be an unnatural color, and to be more synthetic like faux fur (aka a living plush) she was also blind so they replaced her eyes with a plushy sleeping mask that actually has LEDs inside that are hooked up to her brain to see if they could restore vision thru cybernetics. in her original iteration she was even supposed to be half rat half bunny buut i felt it too much, might still reuse the idea tho! tbh i just wanted a bunny with cute rat hands :3

Prof. Snakebite is not even a lab rat originally, he was simply a pinky rat used to feed the lab snakes, but due to freak circumstances he was actually still alive and after being bitten by a venomous snake, the stress hormones in his little body make him develop rapidly especially in brain power. as he was still very tiny and fragile, he wasnt the best subject to experiment on, but he was fitted with a brain chip originally just to read and analyze his brain development as he was much more advanced in mind than in body (of an almost newborn). after escaping he would upgrade his brain chip to help him utilize more brain power but also lessen the burden on his tiny body that could not handle the strain. he and prof. fuzzybottom are always hanging around each other, fuzzy very often babying him or just helping him out by carrying him and helping him reach places or handle objects, while he begrudgingly tolerates her as she is useful to his needs. also cant admit he appreciates her actually awww

the rest of the side characters are pretty self explanatory, theyre mostly just various animal hybrids and crossbreeds and splices! smh only the main characters get cool powers and shit -_- aside from Prof. Smartypants, after having a ferrets body fitted with a human mind(who doesnt remember the human part almost at all. its just the advanced intellect from it) tries to figure out the weird body dysmorphia with Science Potions aka chemisty. but thats mostly just to give another one of my sonas shapeshifting ablities (go figure) so yah if u read this so far Waow o_o Thank U and also Pls Send me asks abt this. if u want <3 can be questions or just ur thoughts ig!! id love feedback pleas please plea

[mizgnomer]

David Tennant - hosting Comic Relief Red Nose Day - March 2023

for Tennant Tuesday (or whatever day this post finds you)

[ingravinoveritas]

hey, if you watched comic relief, did you think david looked unbearably tired? he sounded near tears at times and idt it was just bcs of the charity videos

Hi there! I'm not in the UK, so I wasn't able to see Comic Relief while it aired, or any clips until now.

I didn't notice the tiredness at first, but it definitely seemed to become more visible later in the show, as did the sounding near tears. This moment (which I got from a fan on Twitter who compiled all of David's bits) in particular really got me, as it's so apparent here...

As to what could've been causing this, I think there are several things that could have been happening, possibly even all at once. Up until I got into Good Omens/David/Michael, I wasn't at all familiar with Comic Relief, but having watched the show for a few years now, there are some really striking things I've noticed about how it's structured and what it involves.

On the one hand, you have lots of famous actors and comedians and musicians putting on a show and telling jokes...and then on the other, you have emotional videos of people in dire situations, both in the UK and abroad. And because Comic Relief is live, it's much harder to build in transitions between these two things, so you end up dramatically shifting from lighthearted to serious and back, and it leaves you with a bit of whiplash as a result.

So if those abrupt tonal shifts are difficult for us an audience, they must be even more challenging for the host(s), including David. I think the live aspect of the show makes it very similar to theater and how David might have reacted in differing moments during Macbeth, because we're seeing emotional reactions in real time, without the benefit of editing. Tonight was also the last occasion of Comic Relief that Lenny Henry was hosting after nearly 40 years at the helm, so I feel like that probably made David emotional as well, given how much he has worked with and admires him.

As for the tiredness, it seems there were at least a few interviews that David did prior to the broadcast, so he was probably running around all day trying to get everything done. Then you add to that the chaos of multiple hosts on stage and everyone trying to find their marks (which seems to have been something David was stressing out about a bit in one of the interviews today), plus the charity videos, and it's no wonder that he looked so drained.

(Another thing I also wonder is if David's demeanor had anything to do with sharing the stage with Davina McCall, who was allegedly outed as a TERF last year. Given the attacks from the anti-trans loons that David and Georgia have endured over the last several months, I can imagine that he might not be comfortable co-hosting with someone who espouses such views. And for the record, there was something about Davina that inexplicably annoyed/seemed off to me long before any of the TERF stuff came to light. It seems like my instincts have been confirmed in that regard...)

So yes, those are pretty much all of the things that came to mind regarding David's demeanor at Comic Relief. He's probably been running himself ragged lately with new projects since Macbeth ended (the Genius Game hosting gig, for one, and an appearance on the SmartTV game show, plus multiple upcoming Comic Con appearances), so hopefully he can find some time to relax and breathe in between all of this, because he more than deserves a break.

I hope this helps to answer your question. Thanks for writing in! x

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Tricks & Treats

A little Halloween blurb featuring Roy & Bucky! Takes place after the events of Something There, so spoilers for chapters 11 & 12 I guess? Thank you to @infinetlyforgotten for helping inspire the idea!

0.9k words Warnings: Flirting & teasing, language, some oral (f receiving)

Something There Masterlist

“Come on, Bucky!”

I laughed and leaned down to link my arm with Pheobe’s. “I don’t remember Dorothy and the Wicked Witch skipping together in the movie,” I joked to the little green girl. I glanced over my shoulder. “Do you, Scarecrow?”

Roy scowled at me, his grim face nothing short of comical with the straw-filled pointy hat and painted face he’d let me put on him earlier that evening. But when I raised my eyebrows at him, he let out a heaving sigh and linked up on Phoebe’s other side. Together, the three of us strolled arm in arm to the next house, where Roy and I watched Phoebe hustle up to the door to get her candy.

I leaned close to Roy and wrapped an arm around his middle. “Having fun?”

His eyes trailed down my blue-and-white checkered dress. “Do we really have to go to the party after this?” he grumbled. “I just want to go home and wipe this shit off my face.”

“Roy,” I cooed mockingly, giving him a squeeze. “Don’t you want to see adorable Dorothy become grown-up Dorothy for the party tonight?” I wiggled my foot at him. “The ruby slippers are going to turn into red stilettos. Gonna need someone to carry me home once they kill my ankle.”

The corner of his mouth ticked upwards, mimicking his raised eyebrows. “One hour. Then it’s no fucking place like home, got it?”

Once Phoebe was satisfied with her haul and had been dropped off with her mom, we quickly stopped to freshen up before Keeley’s annual Halloween bash. I changed into the shoes I’d been teasing Roy about and switched out the knee-length pinafore I’d been wearing for one that stopped midway down my thighs.

Roy raised his eyebrows at me when I found him waiting in the living room. “That’s so fucking unfair, babe,” he groaned, brown eyes raking over my body. “You sure we have to go to this shit?”

Smirking at the exact reaction I’d been hoping for, I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the door. “Let’s go, Kent.”

To no one’s surprise, Keeley’s party was a real rager. The club she was hosting it at was packed with people- Greyhounds, Whippets, celebrities, friends. We wandered around, Roy’s hand on my lower back, greeting familiar faces over the pulsing music. Roy managed to grab us a couple of drinks, which I convinced him to bring to the dance floor; ever since our first date, there one where he took me back to the club we’d met at, I loved getting Roy to dance whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Despite his good-natured eyerolls, Roy leaned close to me as we danced, letting his hand wander a bit more than was appropriate in public. But, between the alcohol and the music and his warm touch, I didn’t care one bit. I pressed my back to him, closing my eyes with a smirk as we moved to the music. I knew by the way Roy grinded against me that he’d make me pay for all this torture.

Sure enough, exactly sixty minutes after our arrival, Roy interlocked his fingers with mine.

“Hour’s up, Coach,” he hummed.

Roy liked to drive fast in that big, stupid car of his. And it was especially true tonight as he nearly ran a few red lights and treated the speed limits like suggestions. The entire time, his hand gripped my thigh, fingers digging into my skin. His jaw was set, gaze straight ahead, looking more like he was preparing to enter a championship game than just driving home with his girlfriend.

“Roy!” I squeaked as he nearly yanked me out of the car once he’d parked.

With his hand firmly on my ass, he practically sprinted to the front door. He unlocked it in record time and slammed it behind him. Relief crossed his face for a fraction of a moment before being replaced with pure lust and desire.

“So fucking mean,” he growled, pressing my back to the wall by the front door. “Wearing that fucking dress, dancing with me the way you did.” His mouth found my neck. “What did I do to deserve that, Buck?”

Despite the fire that was starting to spread over my skin, I rolled my eyes in annoyance. “Don’t call me Buck, Kent.”

His breathy chuckle tickled my neck. “Sorry, darling.” His hands wandered up and down my sides, gripping the blue and white material. “Just looked so fucking good tonight. Forgot my fucking manners.”

When his fingertips grazed the bare skin of my thighs, I let out a deep sigh. “Bedroom?”

To my surprise, Roy shook his head. “Can’t fucking wait that long.”

In an instant, Roy was on his knees in front of me, tugging my already short skirt up to reveal the red lace I’d put on with him in mind. He groaned when he saw the material, reaching out to press one finger to the damp spot he’d caused. Without warning, he lifted my leg- the one with the shit ankle- over his shoulder, leaving me attempting to balance on one stiletto. As if he knew I needed help, he tightened his grip on my hips before pressing his mouth to my clothed heat.

“Fuck!” I gasped as my hips instantly jerked against his face. “Shit, Roy-” With a blissful sigh, I threw my head back, gripping his curly hair tight.

His tongue tugged the material aside, exposing my cunt to his hot breath. “Hello, gorgeous,” he hummed, planting a deep kiss to my pussy lips. “My little Halloween treat.”

[fantasyinallforms]

For the January Fotfics roulette. I give you.

Royalty au

And

Awful first meeting

This was so fun to write! Thank you! and thank you to the Fotfics team for hosting the event!

This kinda oops into a plot bunny.... ENJOY!

~~~

“The plane left!” Bilbo stood at the terminal kiosk clutching his phone with the screen pointed toward the customer service lady so she didn’t think he was a loon. “The ticket clearly states that the flight was for noon. It’s just past eleven now!” Bilbo struggled to lower his voice. He didn’t mean to shout. It wasn't this poor lady's fault, but he was panicking. He collected himself and continued in a more reasonable tone. “Ma'am. I need to be in Erebor before four in the evening tomorrow. Please, is there anything you can do?” 

“I’m very sorry about all of this, Mr. Baggins. Please have a seat, and I’ll see what I can do.” The lady replied and motioned to the hard plastic chairs to her right. Bilbo took his seat with his head in his hands. An hour ticked by, and every minute that passed felt like forever. How long had he worked to get this posting? All for it to get washed away by a computing error? It was too terrible to think about. A long hour ticked by, made worse by his nervous habit of checking the clock every three minutes. He tried to work on some papers to keep his mind off the time, but he hadn't managed a single sentence despite trying.  

“Mr Baggins?” A woman in a clean and pressed flight uniform called his name. She was holding a ticket in her hand, and Bilbo’s spirits soared. 

“Yes, that’s me!” He gathered his papers together haphazardly and hurried to greet her.

“We managed to find you a ticket on another flight. It leaves soon, but I can escort you to the jet bridge now. Please follow me.” She motioned forward, and they started walking. “The only seat available was a first-class seat, and we’ve taken the liberty of upgrading you due to all the trouble.” relief and a brief excitement washed over him as they kept a brisk pace. She escorted him as promised. Once inside the plane, a stewardess checked his ticket and led him to the first-class eating area. Bilbo had never been in a proper first class. This was a fairly large plane with fancy accommodations. He was wide-eyed, trying to take it all in. Most of the seats were side by side near a window with a partition separating the seats from the aisle. His seat, however, was in a row that went down the middle. The seats had curved walls that extended around them, creating the illusion of a closed-off space, and the seats faced opposite each other so you could face the person you shared the area with. It was clearly meant for people traveling together, yet his ticket indicated that it was indeed his row. 

Bilbo struggled to keep ahold of his papers as he strained his neck to look at the numbers above the seats. He was tired, and it had already been a long day, so when he thought he had found his seat, he plopped himself down only to be met with the very unexpected noise and feel of warm of the air leaving someone's lungs on the back of his neck as hands came up automatically to meet his hips. Bilbo startled immediately and stood up at once. Behind him was a tall, broad, handsome man with a short beard and silver-streaked black hair. His face gave away nothing about his feelings on just getting sat on, and Bilbo was absolutely mortified. To make matters infinitely worse, the papers slipped from his hands and cascaded comically around his feet. 

“This is seat A1. I believe you were looking for seat A2.” The man said in a buttery, deep voice that did nothing to help his current state of embarrassment. He pointed at the seat next to and opposite him with a smirk.” 

“R-right. I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention. Let me just gather these.” Bilbo said as he crouched down to gather all his papers and stood just in time for the stewardess to come back around. 

“Mr. Baggins, were you able to find your seat?” She asked. Bilbo only nodded. “Wonderful. Can I help you place your luggage in the overhead?” Before he actually thought about it, he said no and shuffled to the correct seat. Bilbo realized immediately that he should have let the stewardess help him. He had never had issues with the overhead bins in the economy or business class, but the ceilings were lifted in first class, and his height proved to be a definite problem. He stood on his tippy toes with his arms far over his head. He could tell his shirt was likely riding up from all the running around he'd been doing. He’s hardly had time to make himself more presentable. Just as he thought he would need to call the stewardess back over, a hand on his waist moved him to the side as his attractive seat companion effortlessly put the luggage away and returned to his seat without a word. Speechless, Bilbo sat down and buckled himself in. This was going to be an exceptionally long ten-hour flight.  

For the next hour or so, everything went as it should. They took off, got into the air, and were finally allowed to roam the cabin and unbuckle their seatbelts. The seat had a spacious pull-out desk he happily utilized to brush up on some Ereborian knowledge. He was absorbed by his work but couldn't help sneaking glances at his unintended travel companion. He had a tight beard and a sharp nose with a well-defined jawline. After falling into the man's lap, he could also confirm he was quite a sturdy man. Every time he looked up, the man was already looking at him, and Bilbo quickly looked away in embarrassment. It was hard to stop noticing once he started noticing the man was staring. Eventually, he had to address it for his own sanity.  

“It’s very rude to stare at people.” He looked up and held eye contact with the man almost defiantly. No one had the right to be that handsome and intimidating all at once. 

“I’m not staring. I’m curious.” The man replied. Bilbo let out a chuckle. 

“Then ask me a question. It’s off-putting being stared at by someone whose name I don’t even know.” Bilbo remarked. 

“Thorin.” the man replied. 

“Pardon?” 

“Thorin. My name. Now you know it.” Thorin supplied

“Oh, erm. I’m Bilbo, and if this is about earlier, then I’m sorry. I’m sure that wasn’t a preferred way to start your trip.” 

“I can think of worse ways to start a trip.” It was said casually, but Bilbo felt himself blush. Goddess help him. He was a 40-year-old man crushing on someone he had met two hours ago. If he noticed Bilbo’s distress, he didn't say anything and instead continued. “I’m curious why you have a large amount of research on Erebor in front of you.” 

“I’m a journalist,” Bilbo replied proudly. Thorin scoffed and leaned back in his chair to take a clipped sip of his drink. “I take it you’re not a fan of my profession?” Bilbo asked. 

“No, I can't say I’m a fan of an industry built on invading people's privacy and angling facts to meet their own agenda.” Thorin snorted. Bilbo immediately jumped on the statement.

“I’m not a tabloid journalist writing thoughtless pieces for the margins of fitness and gossip magazines. Going to Erebor is a dream come true for me. The country has opened its borders for the first time in sixty years. I partitioned the Ereborian government for months to allow me to interview the king, and a week ago, I was told I might have a shot! So that’s why I'm researching. I don't want to make a fool of myself. If I mess this up, I can kiss my career goodbye.” Bilbo chided. A cascade of emotions passed over Thorin's face and settled on something specifically neutral.

“So the future of your career depends on a king maybe talking to you?” Thorin replied. Even Bilbo laughed at that. 

“That must sound pretty silly, but in a sense, yes. Opportunities like this don't happen all the time, after all. What about you? Why are you visiting Erebor?”Bilbo asked. 

“Not visiting, returning. I was visiting my sister in London.” 

“So you’re a native Ereborian! What’s it like? I imagine it's beautiful, surrounded by all those mountains.” Bilbo tried not to sound dreamy as the image of snow capped mountains all around him popped into his head.  

“Is that not what all this scattered around you is for?” Thorin asked, pointing at the papers on his little desk. Bilbo cleared all the papers into his backpack and replaced them with a well-loved notebook and a pen. 

“Papers can’t tell you the heart of the country or why people call it home. What is there to do in Erebor? Where do you go for fun? What’s the food like?” Bilbo asked enthusiastically. The last question was just for him, but he was hungry to know all the same. Thorin leaned in, his eyes growing warm. 

“Is this all on the record or off of it?” Thorin asked, pointing with his nose to the now-open notebook in front of Bilbo. He shut the book and put his hands on top of it. 

“Sorry, force of habit. Off the record then.” Bilbo said with a smile. Thorin chatted with him about the tall pine trees and blankets of snow in the winter. He spoke with reverence about the craftsmanship of the Ereborian people and the rich communities that raised their children together and built a life in a place once thought inhospitable. Bilbo caught himself in a lazy smile as he lost track of the words being said, opting instead to enjoy the gravel of his voice. He was desperately trying to hold back the other less tame thoughts of how that voice would sound wrapped around his name in pleasure when he realized the conversation had come to a natural end. Thorin taking a sip of his drink allowed Bilbo to collect his thoughts and respond appropriately. “That’s the kind of thing I can't get from online articles and books written sixty years ago.” 

“Will this king you're interviewing care about such little things as that?” There was something about the way that Thorin asked that caught him off guard. Like he suddenly had a spotlight on him. As warm as it was, that gaze still held an unnatural intensity.  

“Maybe not, but I care about it,” Bilbo replied. “I think the king must care about things like that. They’re his people, after all. This king is the one who opened the borders back up, so I think that points to good judgment. I was actually upset. I petitioned the government to be here two months ago to see the coronation, but they weren’t allowing anyone into the country yet.”

“It was a simple ceremony. Not a lot of pomp or circumstance. It would've been boring to watch anyway.” Thorin commented with a smile

“You were there!” Bilbo shouted before ducking his head and lowering his voice. “I mean, were you invited? Or was it televised?” 

“All of Erebor was invited,” Thorin said simply. 

“Do you like your king? Or… actually, is that rude to ask? People always ask that about the queen, but I know a few staunch monarchists that take offense to the question.” Bilbo was buzzing with so much curiosity, and Thorin, for his part, seemed to be enjoying the conversation. Or, at the very least, he found Bilbo’s limitless questions amusing. Thorin took a long pause before answering.

“I like the king most days. I can't say I envy him, though. Running a country is… challenging.” Bilbo thought that was the end of it, but he continued. “Though all of this is a moot point.” 

“Is it?” Bilbo replied. 

“It is. The only way to truly get to know a new place is to experience it, not just read or be told about it. I should take you to my favorite tea shop. You did ask about the food.” Thorin offered casually. Bilbo was unsure he heard the man right. Had he just been invited out for tea with a stupidly handsome stranger he met on a plane? A stranger whose first interaction with him was to be sat on.

“I-I would love that, but we could be headed in completely separate directions once we land.” Bilbo spluttered. 

“Maybe, but it’s a small country.” Thorin's smile was blinding now. Bilbo chewed on his lip to hide the flush on his cheeks. 

“You really don't have to. I’m sure you’re a very busy person.” Bilbo stammered. 

“But I want to. And if I don’t take you, you might try and go alone. You could end up in a tourist district and get the wrong idea about my country to put in one of those articles of yours.” Thorin teased.

Bilbo snorted. “Erebor doesn't have a tourist district.” 

“I haven't been home in a month. One could have popped up in my absence.” They both broke out into laughter. The strictness on Thorin’s sharp face faded into something soft and nearly irresistible. The rest of the plane ride went exceptionally smoothly. They chatted some more and ate the first-class meals they were provided in between doing separate tasks like reading or watching a movie. The conversation was light and interesting, and Bilbo found that he barely felt the time pass. At some point, he nodded off to sleep with a book in his hand but woke up with it bookmarked and a thin blanket covering him. Bilbo stretched as he woke and tried to tame the sleep-mussed curls on his head. When he finally got his shoulder to pop and his hair to lay flat, he looked out of the window, and his heart sank. The tall peak of Erebor's biggest mountain was on the horizon. A breathtaking sight, and yet…

“The Lonely Mountain is what that peak is called. The royal palace is built right into the side of it.” Thorin’s deep voice cut into his disappointed thoughts. He startled with an embarrassing squeak and clapped his hand over his mouth with a groan. Thorin only laughed. “Good morning. Or perhaps afternoon. It’s eight in the evening now.” No sooner had Thorin finished speaking when the seatbelt light licked on in the cabin, and the kind voice of the stewardess asked them to return to their seats for the plane's descent.

The ten hours were up. Bilbo felt his stomach do strange flips as he snuck glances at the seemingly unbothered Thorin. It was all utterly ridiculous. He had met this man less than 12 hours ago. It was silly to pine over someone he didn’t even know. The uncomfortable look on his face must have shown because he felt something warm blanket the hand that was gripping the armrest of his chair. He was surprised to see it was Thorin who was giving him a slightly concerned look.

“Is it the turbulence or the altitude dropping? The turbulence is always stronger on the descent, especially in Erebor. I think it’s something about the wind in relation to the mountain. It should pass quickly.” Thorin remarked with a smile. It did, and soon, the wheels were touching down. This would have been the perfect time for a delay, but of course, everything ran as smooth as butter, and soon, it was time to exit. Bilbo unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed the backpack on the side of his chair. When he turned around, he ran right into a solid wall of chest and braced himself with his hands in surprise. Thorin looked down at him, his eyes a sea of blue, and his arms still raised above his head to reach into the overhead. Bilbo stared up at his face, only vaguely aware that his body was positioned a hair's breadth away, hands still splayed on his chest. Then he became aware. Very aware. Bilbo took a big step backward like he had been burned apologies on the tip of his tongue only to lose his footing, trip over the chair behind him, and land facing the wrong way with his legs dangling over the armrest. He went beet-red and closed his eyes so he couldn't see Thorin's face. He opened them again to see Thorin grinning at him with his head cocked to the right and his arms crossed. 

“You’re very prone to accidents, aren’t you?” he asked. 

“Not usually,” Bilbo replied. It was true other than today, he was usually very well coordinated. Thorin reached out his hand and pulled Bilbo easily to his feet before handing him his luggage. 

“That’s not a very big bag for a long trip. I suppose I never asked how long you were staying?” Thorin asked tentatively as they walked toward the exit. 

“Foreign journalists still have their passports restricted to visits less than five days,” Bilbo said apologetically. Thorin’s brow furrowed at that. He muttered a name under his breath before dropping the topic altogether. The airport was very small, with no restaurants or coffee shops like at London Heathrow. His stomach growled audibly, and the sound of it seemed to make Thorin tense, although he couldn't imagine why. “Sorry about that. Airplane food doesn't fill you up all that much. Are you in a rush to be somewhere? I don’t know any places to eat around here, but if you have a recommendation, we can grab something. I mean, just if you want, I’m not presuming anything.” he wasn't good at this. He was a well-spoken person with a quip for every occasion, but his brain seemed to have malfunctioned the moment he stepped onto that plane. What was worse was the apologetic, almost pitying look on Thorin's face. 

“I can’t right now but-” 

“No, it’s fine!” Bilbo quickly interjected. “I get it, you're very busy. It’s a small country like you said. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.” Bilbo plastered a smile on his face and made to walk away. Thorin caught him by the waist and tilted his chin until their eyes met, then slowly but deliberately kissed him. It was as slow and tender as it was unexpected. A good unexpected, and Bilbo closed his eyes and let it wash over him. Thorin’s lips were warm and tasted like the smoke of a campfire. Thorin broke the kiss and fixed one of his curls that had fallen in front of his face. 

“You should go to Rustabell’s on Gilded Square. It’s near the historic downtown area. You’ll like it.” He gave Bilbo’s form a once over before meeting his eyes one last time and briskly walking away. Bilbo stepped after him, dazed and thoroughly confused about what had just happened. 

“Wait, I never got your num…ber.” The words died on his tongue as he rounded the corner. The sudden flash of a hundred cameras going off all at once made him take several steps back. He hurried forward to get away from it and blink the dots from his eyes. Looking back, he was shocked to see Thorin standing in front of the cameras, his face like stone as he faced the flashing lights. Bilbo focused on what was being said by one of the journalists, their press badge laminated and practically glowing.

“Your majesty! Your majesty! King Thorin!” Bilbo paused. King Thorin? His eyes went wide, and he pressed his fingers to his lips. 

“Oh shit.” 

~~~~

Roulette wheel is here.

[glorianamultistan]

Park Chanyeol x Male Reader

<Part 1> <Part 3>

'You are such a fine specimen y/n; no wonder Duke never turned over to look at us even when we flaunted ourselves voluptuously.' 'To deny the chance of becoming a consort to the crown for this, hmm, must be some witchcraft.' 'I never really liked visiting you all because of this, you might be the heir to the throne, and you might be beautiful, but that doesn't mean anyone would just let their guards down and be with you.'

'Forgetting all the manners are we now?' 'Not really Sohee, I rank as equal as you; you and Suyung both are princesses and I am a prince, I expect nothing but respect for the orders we represent.'

Meeting the princesses was tiring; the constant remarks and counter-attacks had y/n feeling as if he had himself trapped in a pathetic tragicomedy rather than a few days hosting at a castle.

Chanyeol was often out and about leaving y/n with the princesses, and it was getting hard to control his nerves as the days went by. One night, on his routine night visit Chanyeol found y/n sitting on the bed staring at the wall with dried-up tear stains on his cheeks and the yellowish pages of the book he had opened in his lap.

'I don't remember the palace being so ghastly as to push you to the limits.' He went ahead and sat where he regularly did, on the chair beside the dressing mirror, facing the bed.

'I am tired.' 'Your royal highness, I will leave at once if you say so.' He got up and almost left when y/n whispered 'Please, don't.'

Chanyeol turns, shocked, rather bewildered, and caught off guard. This was a new tone he was hearing; he looked over y/n still in bed, looking down at his lap, still as if he was a part of the whole furniture.

Chanyeol went back and made himself comfortable; at least he tried to do so; while y/n put the book at the side table and took a sip out of the glass that had been there for some time now.

'Are you not well? You can skip the gatherings tomorrow and rest; there is no need to over-exert yourself.' 'I am tired.' Y/n repeated, in an even lower voice than before. 'The princesses and their cousins are tiring; at least I had my brother before to accompany me so they were all mostly around him. Now, I am all alone and their remarks never stop. Is this why you brought me here? To leave me all day long to suffer through comments as if I had done something wrong. I never even wanted to marry you. You could have had the heir to the throne here. Why did you do this to me? And why do you never accompany me while I am with them?'

'I...' Chanyeol was at a loss for words; he never thought that the prince would break down in front of him like this. He never really wished for it too. He got up and slowly went to the bed as if approaching a sparrow in the wild; he knelt down on the carpet, near y/n while observing the younger.

'I am sorry. I had no idea that they were going to treat you like this. I thought that since you always visited the palace you all must be good friends. I have to attend the training of the main army heads daily here that is why I am never able to be here. I am sorry. And, I married you because I liked you, I never liked the princesses, I know my ways to procure you were rash, but morality never really worked in favour of love and war did it? I am really, deeply, religiously, devoted to you; if you command me right now, I will behead the princesses, their cousins, and all those who made you cry like this and run away with you to your home and fight if they come for you.' He was already standing with his sword in his hand and that was the moment y/n realised that this man was beyond understanding.

Doing so much harm, on one command of someone, no one should be allowed to wield such powers, yet here, in the middle of the night, in an isolated wing of a palace, y/n sat looking into Chanyeol's eyes directly after weeks, feeling a rush of emotions indescribable.

'You are not a very intelligent person are you, Chanyeol?' A comic relief, his name, uttered by y/n with a smile full of twinkling eyes. Y/n realised later that he called the other by name and looked down again, 'Sit on the bed, then talk, I feel uncomfortable like this.'

Chanyeon went on and sat on the opposite side of the bed looking over y/n with determined eyes, 'I am not joking, I will do it all if you want it and if that will make you leave your gloom behind.' 'You will do no such thing. Hearing such declarations are ghastly enough for me; you should know how much I hate violence.' 'Then what should I do!? Please your royal highness tell me. I will do it, just say it.' Chanyeol was eager and looked more like a big dog waiting for command than a general of the army.

'Take me home.' Y/n whispered looking up to meet Chanyeol's eyes. 'Okay, we can leave for your kingdom right now, I will take you and your luggage can be sent later.' Chanyeol got up and before he could move y/n said 'I - I meant Sandria, not that.' Y/n was trying to avoid the bulging eyes of the general and trying to calm the heat rising in his body. 'What!?' 'I meant take me to Sandria, I miss Lady Park.'

It took a whole awkward minute of silence for y/n to repeat it 'Can we go?' 'Yes!' Chanyeol almost screamed and shocked y/n, again, more happy dog than a general.

So they left, in the night, without their luggage, just the two of them on a single horse. It took them two days and in between Chanyeol stopped at grand inns and was welcomed warmly by the owners, but what surprised y/n was how kind they all were to him, often too kind and reminding him of Lady Park.

They took one room throughout the journey as they were married so to avoid any rumours they had to take such measures, but Chanyeol never slept in the bed; he was always on the sofa, half asleep, half guarding as the threat on the prince was ever looming.

When they reached, Lady Park was not surprised; she got the letter from the palace beforehand; rather she was inquisitive as to why they cut their stay short and why did they not take the train?

'Oh I am sorry Lady Park, I was just uncomfortable at the palace and missed this place so I asked Chanyeol to bring me back, and I never really had the chance to roam the country, outside the manors and abbeys and castles, so I asked him to take the horse, also there was no train available that instant.'

'Oh y/n, please do not worry, I am rather happy that you are back; it gets lonely here without anyone to talk to except the butler and the other servants.'

Chanyeol was shocked again to hear his name from y/n's mouth utter so casually; he did not want to point it out to the other but wanted so bad to ask him to use it more. On his part, he still could not muster up the courage to use y/n's name; it feels — ironically, after doing it all wrong — it feels disrespectful.

'I will go to the room and change up, then I will meet you in the library.' With that y/n was gone.

'Why did you not insist on waiting and taking the train!?' Lady Park asked his son with a bit more hint of anger than he thought he would be facing.

'I did! But he wanted to leave instantly. I had no choice.' 'What did you do now that he left the palace like this to come back?' Before Chanyeol could answer Lady Park led him to the library and motioned him to sit as if starting an official inquiry.

'I? How can I do something in the palace that would make him run away from there? And runaway back to my house? Make it make sense mother.' He should not be acting this sassy to her but he wanted to point out the absurdity of the blame.

'Then what happened? I am sure the palace was more comfortable than here.' 'Well, do not talk to him about it please, he will tell you if he would like you to know, but I guess you are so stuck up with rituals that he would not want to portray a bad image of your future queen to you.'

'What?' 'Yes, he was crying, apparently both the princesses and their cousins always passed remarks and comments about him and other stuff, you know, stuck-up royals. He told me his brother was good at handling them but he was more sensitive to all of this so it hurt him a lot. I asked him to command anything that could be done to make him feel better, and he asked me to bring him back, so on my word, I did, also dearest mum he said he missed you.'

"I cannot believe that such behaviour is sanctioned by our King and Queen. They must be doing it as a jest but if it hurt him so much then it is unacceptable." "Well, you know how they are still pent up about me not marrying anyone of them." "It would have solved so many problems and there would have been no useless war." "Mother, you make it sound like I marrying someone for such reasons will result in a long-lasting relationship." "What about you and the prince then? He married you to end the whole show of gore bloody circus you started! Do you think he is happy here and not half as miserable as you would have been!?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, Ldy Park had such a moment after months, Chanyeol thought she was over it, but all this talk flared her up again.

"Mom, you know..." "What!? You love him!? That!? Please, I am still so ashamed that my son really went out to kidnap someone, that too a prince, at the cost of innocent lives, all the facade which you have created around this seemingly happy, working-out relationship disgusts me to the very core. I am here only for his sake, as I cannot trust you to be with him alone here, otherwise, I would have left for the dower house months ago."

Now, Lady Park was not only angry, she was in tears, all of this built up inside her while the young couple was away. She has been keeping up her smiles around the prince but after getting to know about the incident at the palace and her son's justification for not marrying any one of the princesses, she was not able to control herself.

"Enough, I will have the rest of my life to be blaming you, we mustn't make a fuss over it all when he comes down, at least he should get comfort somewhere."

P.S.:- If you liked it, you can support me by buying me a coffee; link's on my page.

[afraidofbee]

Thanks for your response for Mephistopheles. I get that on surface level, he seems like if you swap color pallet on Luci with Barney the Dinosaur but a bit more "stuck up, noble rich boy on first glance in Ouran High School Host Club episode" vibe. But like you, I decided to give him and others a chance and I GOT EYES STUCK ON HIM THE SAME LEVEL AS LUCI AND BARB! I have another User here that explained him better from the OG and bit of NB lore from last year, so I'll leave a link here: https://maddymoreau.tumblr.com/post/717214068185890816/mephistopheles-discussionanalysis

I've also learned more from him in the NB earlier lesson(which I cannot spoil anything between 13 and 40.) I REALLY hope that more people would give him and others like Thirteen and Raphael another chance. There SO much more underneath these characters despite barely having some screen time after the second batch. (AKA Dia, Barb, Simeon, Luke, Solo.) I hope that they'll all grow onto us and becomes Dateables in the future.

Thx for asking me, and sharing the post! Love it!

I am sorry for any spelling or grammatical mistakes, I hope I am not too difficult to understand (English isn’t my first language)

Mephistopheles is really interesting and have a good character development. In the og obey me (for me) he is like Lucifer, Barbatos and Diavolo combine but exaggerated (he’s prideful and have a similar haircut as Lucifer, he’s loyal and diligent as Barbatos, and last but not least he live a shelter life and born with a responsibility as diavolo), at first I think he will be a comic relief but obey me nightbringer prove me wrong.

All the new side characters (Mephisto, Thriteen and Raphael) deserved more time on screen indeed (and become dateables), we could know more about Mephisto in nigthbringer but the other two feel like filler characters ‘ > ‘ (all of them have my interest and attention as well)

In Solomon case I can say he grown on me so much in nightbringer. But Diavolo, Barbatos and Simeon lore or development was limited to devilgram story, I feel disappointed but I understand this two first season was to reintroduce the brothers and present the antagonist(?)

I think the side character will continue growing on more people in the future, they’re charismatic and fascinating. There is already artists and writers making wonderful art or writing about them (eg. I’m little obsessed with “Drawing Raphael Daily until he Becomes Dateable” (///￣ ᵕ ￣///) all their post are full of creativity and cuteness)

All we have left is pray to the devs have mercy and decide to explore the story of this interesting character (love the brothers but give the spotlight to the dateables (including mephisto, thrirteen and raphael) and show us Michael ૮꒰ྀི∩' ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა)

And for my son/little brother/chihuahua I hope solmare don’t make him sad, he deserves have a happy childhood, pls.