#plus the cast MORE than deserves it

[jitteryjive]

i need to remake my cup bros ref… both cup and human designs… it’s been almost a year(?) and i’ve developed the headcanons and i would like to share with the class!!! (i wrote thirty tags. Please help me)

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"Sounds like Dorian alright," Randall chuckled; even as a boy, his best friend seemed to take any and all opportunities he found to try and throw a party, and although these attempts didn't always pan out, he still tried. Even as a child, Randall knew it wasn't because Dorian enjoyed being the center of these parties (unlike what some suspected), it was simply because he wanted everyone to have a good time drinking, dancing, playing party games, and just overall having fun, and that especially went for Randall, who got to enjoy some of these lavish get-togethers through Dorian, who always insisted his best friend and his mother get to join in.

(And who knew-maybe that'd still be the case once they made it to California; Dorian throwing parties. They'd probably be scaled down from the wildly over-the-tip ones held at Gracey Manor, of course, but he could see his dear friend still putting quite a few on for even the most minute of celebrations.)

"I wish I could see these dresses too," he smiled, brightening at the idea of making him and Emily matching outfits, and especially giving his all when it came to his bride's dresses; he'd never do anything by half when it came to her. It was a shame she couldn't have brought them back with her from the future, he really would've liked to see them (and see if he'd any gotten better post-mortem-Lord knew he had all the time in the world to practice and improve!)

"Did you, uh, have a favorite that I made, for a particular party, I mean?"

[nonushu]

stuck with you - csc

genre: fluff, married life :P | wc: 710 | husband!seungcheol x reader about: choi seungcheol, your husband, who would do anything to see you happy. a/n: happy late (don't come for me😭) birthday to scoops<3 (this was rotting in my drafts... i love you cheol, forgive me)

with a slight nip in the air, the breaths between the two of you were visible. it's late, and you're not sure why your husband dragged you out in your backyard—which was decorated in what seems to resemble a festival. it's a surprise he told you.

"okay, so... i know it's not fireworks," seungcheol began, revealing two sparklers, "but it's close enough, right?"

you blink before smiling. "sparklers?"

he nods. "i know you really wanted to see them this year," he says, putting one in your hand, "so, i'm sorry we couldn't make it. but if you think about it, sparklers are just tiny fireworks! plus, it's way more personal, too."

"cheol," you laugh, feeling your disappointment wash away as he lit one with a lighter. "you didn't have to..."

"hush, baby," he interrupts, motioning his lighter to the sparkler in your hand. "come here."

the sparks crackles between you, casting a glow over both of your faces. seungcheol waves his sparkler like a child at a birthday party, his toothy smile making your heart swell.

you shook your head at how hard he was trying to cheer you up, but the truth is, you couldn't envision something more perfect than this. "okay, okay," you say, holding your sparkler out toward him. "i admit, this is not what i expected but..."

his gaze softens, playfulness wearing off. "i just didn't want you to miss out on the fun."

you bit your lip, feeling a little flutter in your chest. “you really didn’t have to go through all this—i mean, when did we even have all these decorations in the house?”

he shrugs, leaning a bit closer with a grin. “don't worry about it,” he chirps, pecking your forehead.

his hair, slightly tousled from the breeze, curled at the edges of his forehead, framing his dark eyes that reflected the sparks as they flicker between you. seungcheol had that effect—one of many that you couldn't help but ogle over. not to mention his thoughtfulness, always surprising you even more on how much he really cares for you.

"you’re staring," he teases, catching your eyes as a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

you feel cheeks heat up, and quickly avert your eyes, pretending to focus on the sparkler in your hand. "i... i wasn’t staring. i was... just thinking."

"yeah? about?" he uttered, his tone light, but you could feel the shift in the air. he steps closer, closing the small space.

a giggle slips from your lips, your eyes meeting his, seeing the way the warm light of the sparklers dances across his face. "okay, maybe i was staring a little."

he chuckles lowly, a soothing sound that made you feel like a teenager with a crush. "you can stare all you want," he says quietly, smugness replaced with something gentler, almost tender. "i don’t mind."

seungcheol's hand brushes yours lightly as he adjusts his grip on the sparkler, the brief touch sending a tingle up your arm. he didn’t pull away, and neither did you. his fingers stayed close, not quite intertwined with yours.

"i was just thinking... thinking about how i'm so grateful for you," you confess, "thank you for this, cheol, really. i couldn't have it any other way."

his eyes crinkle. "you don't have to thank me," he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "i'd do this for you everyday if i could."

seungcheol lifts his free hand to gently brush his fingers on your face. his touch lingers, his thumb graze your cheek. "you deserve to be happy," he murmurs, "and if i can be a part of that, then that's enough for me."

your breath hitches at his words, and for a second, you couldn't find your voice. you lean in, resting your forehead against his, the sparklers crackling in the background.

"i am happy," you whisper back, your voice full of joy. "as long as you light my sparkler, i always will be."

the last sparks of the sparklers die down, leaving behind only the soft glow of the backyard decorations. seungcheol leans forward and presses his lips to yours, a gentle kiss.

when he pulls back, his eyes twinkle. "i promise i'll always light them for you."

[librababe99]

More Than Skin Deep

Word Count: 766 

cw: Fem! Reader, Self-esteem issues, reference to scars and disfigurement, established relationship, hurt with comfort 

A/N: This is my first time writing for Wade! Honestly I wanted this to be short and sweet–plus this man is sooo deserving of some gentle love❤️ Would y’all be more open to content with Wade? How are we feeling? 

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The night was quiet—surprisingly so for a place like New York City, where the streets never truly slept. But here, in the dim light of Wade’s apartment, the world outside seemed a distant memory. The soft glow of the streetlamp filtered through the window, casting a warm, golden hue over the room, illuminating the gentle rise and fall of Wade’s chest as he lay on the bed.

You sat beside him, your fingers tracing the well-worn path over his skin. Wade Wilson—merc with a mouth, the man who’d seen more carnage than most could even imagine—was currently as still as you’d ever seen him. His eyes were half-closed, a rare vulnerability etched into the lines of his face.

Your fingers followed the familiar route, gliding over the uneven terrain of his chest. Every scar, every imperfection, was a testament to the battles he’d fought and survived. They were part of him, part of the man you loved, and you cherished each one.

“Why do you do that?” Wade’s voice was softer than usual, lacking the usual quip or joke. There was something raw in his tone, something unguarded. He didn’t open his eyes, though. Maybe he was afraid to see what might be reflected in yours.

“Do what?” you asked, your voice equally gentle. Your fingers continued their journey, moving lower, tracing the ridges and valleys of his abdomen. His skin was warm beneath your touch, the tension in his muscles gradually easing under your ministrations.

“This.” He gestured vaguely to where your hands roamed. “Touch me like I’m… I dunno, something precious.”

You smiled, though he couldn’t see it. “Because you are.”

Wade let out a scoff, the sound more automatic than genuine. "Come on, you can't really find this attractive," he muttered, a trace of self-deprecation in his voice.

You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss one of the scars on his chest. "I find you attractive," you whispered against his skin, feeling the subtle tremor of a laugh as it reverberated through him.

You shifted, lying down beside him so you could face him, your hand moving to cup his cheek. His skin was rough here too, but to you, it was perfect. You brushed your thumb across the ridge of his jaw, feeling the way he leaned into your touch, despite himself.

“You’re not just scars, Wade,” you said, your voice firm but tender. “You’re the man who makes me laugh until my sides hurt. You’re the guy who takes on the worst of the worst to protect people, even if you’d never admit that’s why you do it. You’re the person who makes me feel safe, and loved, and important.”

Wade’s eyes finally opened, and you saw the conflict in them—an uncertainty that rarely showed itself. “You really believe all that?”

“I do.” You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and slow. “I love every part of you. The loud, the quiet, the scars, the smile… all of it. You’re mine, Wade, and I’m not letting go.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his hand coming up to rest on yours where it still cupped his cheek. “You’re too good for me,” he said, but there was less conviction in his words this time.

“Maybe,” you teased lightly, pulling back just enough to see the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But you’re stuck with me now.”

Wade’s hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the lie in your words. But there wasn’t one. What he saw was the truth—the unconditional, unwavering love you had for him.

“Guess I could get used to that,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You kissed him again, letting your lips linger, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him. Your hand drifted down his chest once more, over the scars and the rough patches, your touch reverent, worshipful. You poured everything into that kiss, into your touch, wanting him to feel the depth of your love, to know it was real.

When you finally pulled back, Wade’s eyes were dark, filled with something that looked an awful lot like hope.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words barely audible.

You just smiled, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead, your heart full. “Always.”

And as the night stretched on, with the world outside growing quieter still, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. Wade’s body relaxed completely under your gentle ministrations, his heart finally accepting what his mind struggled to comprehend.

That he was loved—scars and all.

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[brunchable]

Movie Night | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.

Pairings: Fiance Bucky Barnes x f!reader Themes: FLUFF, FLUFF. IT'S SO FLUFFY IM GONNA DIE. BUCKY JUST BEING HAPPY AND IN LOVE. Summary: You come home exhausted from another day of work, not expecting Bucky to surprise you with a little heart-warming gesture to show you how much he appreciates you. A/N: Bucky is so baby boy in my heart <3 he deserves to be happy :')

You walked through the front door after a long day, the weight of the world seemingly sitting on your shoulders. You dropped your keys onto the table and toed off your shoes, ready to collapse on the couch and maybe watch some mindless TV when you noticed something odd. Your living room lights were off, but there was a soft, warm glow coming from inside... a fort?

You blinked, taking in the sight. There, in the middle of your living room, was a massive pillow fort. Cushions, blankets, and pillows of every kind were stacked together, forming walls and towers. Fairy lights were strung around the outside, casting a soft glow over the entire space. The entrance was a small gap, just wide enough for someone to crawl through. You smiled, already knowing who was behind this.

"Bucky?" you called, your voice filled with amusement.

From inside the fort, you heard a muffled, "Come in, if you dare."

Laughing, you crouched down and peeked inside. Bucky was lying on his back, surrounded by an array of snacks, blankets, and your favorite movies lined up on the tablet in front of him. He grinned up at you, his eyes soft and playful. 

"I built us the fortress of restorous," he said dramatically, holding up a bag of popcorn as if it were a prized treasure.

You crawled inside, the fort much bigger than you thought. It was like stepping into a cozy little world of your own. 

“You did all of this?” you asked, settling down beside him. The pillows were impossibly soft and you found your muscles relaxing and the stress from your work fading away.

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the pride in his eyes gave him away. “I figured you could use a little break. Plus, it’s movie night.”

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt. “This is amazing, Buck.”

He turned toward you, propping his head on his hand as he gazed at you with that soft, thoughtful expression you loved. “You’ve been working so hard, lately. I just want you to know that you're amazing.”

Your heart melted at his words, the care and effort he’d put into this gesture. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, but he grinned as he handed you a bag of your favourite snacks. “Alright, pick a movie. I’ve got everything lined up.”

“DVDs? Where did you even get this? Let alone a DVD player?” You chuckled holding up the case for White Chicks (2004). 

“I bought them,” He paused a beat when he saw your brows starting to furrow, “With my money okay? Your fiancé is old fashioned, just in case your little noggin’ forgot.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you playfully nudged Bucky’s shoulder. "My fiancé, huh? Guess that means I'm stuck with you, old-fashioned DVDs and all," you teased, holding up the case for emphasis. "But seriously, this is kind of adorable. You with a DVD player? It's like a time capsule here."

Bucky grinned, his expression softening as he leaned back against the pillows. "Classic movies, cozy nights... maybe we’ll even get a record player next."

You smiled warmly at him, your heart felt full at how much thought he put into the evening. 

"You know," you said softly, "you always find a way to surprise me. And I love every bit of it." you paused, looking down at the DVD case in your hands before glancing back at him with a smirk. "But I’ll warn you, if you start quoting this movie word for word, you’ll owe me a lot more than just a cozy night in a pillow fort.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, matched with a raised brow.

You grinned, leaning in closer until your faces were only inches apart. “You’ll owe me... a whole day of doing whatever I want. No complaints, no arguing. Just you, me, and whatever ridiculous adventure I come up with.”

“Whatever you want, huh? You think you can handle me agreeing to anything without a fight?”

You laughed softly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, I’m counting on it. I’ll make sure it’s something unforgettable.”

He smirked, “Alright, deal. But only if you can stay awake through the whole movie without falling asleep on my shoulder like last time.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me, James Barnes, I did not fall asleep! I was just… resting my eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, pulling yor closer and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say, baby.”

You spent the next few hours nestled in the little fort, watching silly comedies and adventure films, laughing so hard at times both of you almost cried. Every now and then, Bucky would nudge you with his shoulder, his playful side showing as he whispered sarcastic comments about the characters on screen.

But the real magic was in the quiet moments. The way Bucky's arm slowly found its way around your shoulders, pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest. The warmth of his body seeping into yours as the world outside the fort seemed to disappear. His hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your arm as you lay there, completely content in your cosy little world.

At some point during the night, after the third movie, you turned your head slightly to look up at him. He was staring at the screen, his face bathed in the soft glow of the fairy lights, a small smile tugging at his lips. You couldn’t help but admire how peaceful he looked. He deserves that more than anyone else.

Without thinking, you whispered, “I love you.”

The words slipped out so naturally, so effortlessly, that you didn’t even realise what you’d said until Bucky's head snapped down to look at you. For a moment, you panicked, your heart racing. But then, a soft smile spread across his face, and he leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice tender. “Always.”

You felt your heart swell, and you snuggled deeper into his arms, letting the warmth of his love and the comfort of the little fort wrap around you like a blanket. As the night grew later and the movies played on, you knew that no matter what, this moment – this simple, perfect moment in the pillow fort – was something you would treasure forever.

And as both of you drifted off to sleep, tangled up in each other and the fort Bucky had built, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, in your little fortress of love and warmth.

[pinkchwrryyy]

𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐁𝐒𝐃 𝐫��𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 (●’◡’●)ﾉ

✦𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: Bungou Stray Dogs

✦𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dazai Osamu x Afab! reader

✦𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: You’ve just got home from a very tiring day at the Agency when you see someone sprawled onto the couch, and that someone is, of course, your colleague Osamu Dazai.

✦𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: one-shot, prompt

✦𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, hurt/comfort

✦𝐓𝐖: none

✦𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: none

⚠️𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭⚠️

You are my new pillow!

Yokohama at night always had a certain charm to it—the streets quieter, the neon lights casting a soft glow over the sidewalks, and the occasional sound of a distant car cutting through the stillness. It was moments like these that you found peace, when the city’s usual chaos dimmed to a low hum, giving you a chance to catch your breath.

After another long day of working alongside the Armed Detective Agency, you were thankful to finally get some rest. The latest case had been exhausting, a wild chase involving rogue ability users, more than a few close calls, and—of course—Dazai Osamu’s endless antics.

As you walked back to your small apartment, your mind wandered to the enigmatic man who had become a constant presence in your life. Dazai was… difficult to pin down. He was brilliant, yes, but also frustrating beyond belief. One minute, he was solving a life-or-death situation with calculated precision, and the next, he was trying to coax you into some absurd suicide pact, wearing that maddeningly charming smile of his.

But despite his quirks—perhaps because of them—he had grown on you. There was a sadness beneath the surface that you couldn’t ignore, a darkness he hid behind jokes and flirtation. And somewhere along the line, you had started to care for him more than you ever intended.

Your thoughts were interrupted as you reached your door. With a tired sigh, you unlocked it, stepping inside the familiar warmth of your home. You flipped on the lights, planning to head straight to your bed for some well-deserved sleep.

But as you took off your coat and walked into the living room, you froze.

There, sprawled out on your couch like he owned the place, was Dazai Osamu.

His coat was draped lazily over the armrest, his dark hair tousled as if he had just woken up from a nap. One arm was thrown over his eyes, while the other rested against his chest. He looked completely at ease, as though he had been waiting for you.

“Dazai!” you exclaimed, startled by his sudden appearance. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

Without bothering to lift his arm, Dazai replied in a lazy, sing-song voice, “Ahh, you’re finally home. Took you long enough.”

You glared at him, even though you knew by now that he was impossible to stay mad at for long. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He peeked out from beneath his arm, flashing you a playful grin. “I got bored, so I let myself in. You weren’t home, and the couch looked so comfortable. I couldn’t resist.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “You can’t just break into people’s homes, Dazai.”

“I didn’t break in. You gave me a spare key, remember?”

“That was for emergencies,” you shot back. “Not for you to use whenever you feel like taking a nap on my couch.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, finally sitting up and stretching his arms above his head. “Well, in my defense, it was an emergency. I was exhausted after today’s mission, and I needed a place to rest my weary head.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “And what exactly was wrong with your own place?”

Dazai gave you a sly smile, his brown eyes glinting with mischief. “Your couch is much more comfortable than mine. Plus, it’s closer to you.”

That last comment made your heart skip a beat, though you tried not to show it. Instead, you huffed, walking over to the couch and pushing his legs aside so you could sit down. “If you’re going to be here, at least don’t take so much space.”

Dazai’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he shifted his position, moving closer to you until his head rested comfortably on your lap. “Ah, I see. You just want an excuse to stay closer to me?”

“Actually, no,” you said, though the blush creeping up your neck betrayed you. “I want you to stop using my apartment as your own.”

He chuckled softly, making himself more comfortable by nuzzling into your lap. “Too late. You are now officially my new pillow.”

You stared down at him, half exasperated and half amused. He had closed his eyes again, a contented smile playing on his lips as if he had just won some unspoken battle. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, and the shadows of the dim living room light accentuated his sharp features. There was a strange serenity in his expression, one that you rarely saw in him—like for once, he wasn’t trying to hide behind his usual mask.

For a brief moment, you let yourself relax, your fingers absentmindedly running through his hair. You had no idea how this had become your life—sitting in your apartment with Dazai Osamu using you as a pillow—but somehow, it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, it felt nice.

“So, is this what you had planned for the evening?” you asked, your voice softer now, teasing but genuine.

“Mmm,” Dazai hummed, his eyes still closed. “I didn’t have any specific plans, but this is much better than what I could’ve come up with.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied with a lazy grin.

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, the comfortable silence only broken by the occasional sound of the city outside. It was strange how natural this felt—being here with him, his head resting on your lap as if it were the most normal thing in the world. There was no pretense, no need for words. Just the quiet understanding that came with spending time together.

But as the peaceful silence stretched on, you couldn’t help but wonder what was really going through Dazai’s mind. He was always so guarded, always keeping people at arm’s length. Yet here he was, allowing himself to be vulnerable, if only for a moment.

“Dazai,” you began hesitantly, your fingers still gently combing through his hair, “why did you really come here tonight?”

For a long moment, he didn’t respond. You thought he might ignore the question or deflect with another joke, but when he finally spoke, his voice was softer than before.

“Because sometimes… it’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t expect anything from you,” he murmured, his eyes still closed. “Someone who lets you be… just you.”

His words caught you off guard, and you felt a tightness in your chest. You had always sensed that Dazai carried more weight than he let on, that beneath his playful exterior was a man burdened by his own demons. But hearing him admit it—admit that he sought out your presence for comfort—made your heart ache for him.

“Well,” you said quietly, “you don’t have to pretend with me.”

Dazai opened his eyes, looking up at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. For a moment, the playful mask slipped away entirely, and you saw the loneliness in his gaze. It was fleeting—gone as quickly as it appeared—but it was enough to remind you that, beneath it all, Dazai Osamu was just as human as anyone else.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he closed his eyes again, his voice returning to its usual playful tone. “Good. Because I fully intend to keep using you as my pillow.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Of course you do.”

But even as you laughed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this moment than either of you were willing to admit.

And as Dazai settled in your lap, content and at peace, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—you had become something more than just a comfortable pillow to him.

[its-avalon-08]

Can I request a Lando one where reader is a famous skateboarder and she becomes insecure because she is outside the "standard" of girls who he dates and he's comforts her after all the online hate she suffers because of that and says that she's way cooler than him

skatergirl and racerboy (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - angst, tears, fluff, hate

Lando watched Y/N from a distance, sitting on the edge of the skatepark with his elbows resting on his knees. The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden hue over everything. He loved these moments, watching her in her element, completely absorbed in her passion.

Y/N was practicing a new trick, her face set in determined concentration. She launched herself off a ramp, twisting her body mid-air, and landed smoothly, her skateboard gliding effortlessly beneath her. Lando couldn’t help but smile, a sense of pride welling up inside him.

“Wow,” he muttered to himself, his admiration evident. “She makes it look so easy.”

As she skated back towards the start, she noticed Lando and waved, her face lighting up with a smile. Lando's heart skipped a beat at the sight. He waved back, feeling a flutter of excitement just from seeing her so happy.

She skated over to him, her helmet slightly askew and a sheen of sweat on her brow. “Hey there, Formula 1 star. How long have you been watching?”

“Long enough to be amazed, as always,” Lando replied, grinning. “You’re incredible out there, you know that?”

Y/N blushed slightly, sitting next to him and pulling off her helmet. “Thanks, Lando. It means a lot coming from you.”

“I mean it,” he said earnestly. “The way you handle that board, it’s like you’re dancing. I could watch you all day.”

She laughed, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. “You make driving around in circles look pretty cool too.”

Lando chuckled. “Touché. But seriously, your talent and dedication… it’s inspiring. It makes me want to be better at what I do.”

Y/N tilted her head, looking at him curiously. “Really? You’re already amazing at what you do.”

“Maybe, but seeing you push yourself, constantly striving to improve… it motivates me. Plus, I love your whole vibe. It’s so different from anything I’ve ever known. You’re fearless, and it’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

She looked down, a shy smile playing on her lips. “I’m just being me.”

“And that’s exactly what I love,” Lando said softly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re authentic, and you don’t try to fit into any box. It’s refreshing.”

She leaned into his touch, her eyes meeting his. “I’m glad you think so. Sometimes I worry that… you know, I’m not what people expect for you.”

Lando shook his head firmly. “What matters is what I want, and I want you, Y/N. I love everything about you – your passion, your talent, your uniqueness. You’re not just my girlfriend; you’re my best friend, my biggest inspiration.”

Her eyes glistened with emotion as she leaned in and kissed him softly. “I love you, Lando.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I love you too, Y/N. More than anything.”

They sat there for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world around them fading away. In that moment, Lando knew he’d found something truly special, and he was determined to hold onto it, no matter what anyone else said.

time skip

pov. y/n's phone

instagram comments

@F1Fanatic123: "I don’t get the hype about Y/N. She’s not even close to Lando’s exes in terms of looks."

@RacingQueen99: "Why is Lando dating a skateboarder? She doesn’t fit the WAG standards at all."

@GlamGossip: "Y/N looks so tomboyish. Lando deserves someone more feminine."

@SpeedDemon56: "Miss the days when Lando dated models. Y/N just doesn’t measure up."

twitter posts

@F1Lover: "Lando can do so much better than Y/N. She doesn’t even fit the WAG profile. #BringBackTheModels"

@RaceCarDreams: "Not hating, but Y/N isn’t what I expected for Lando. She’s so different from his exes."

@GossipGuru: "Y/N is cool and all, but she’s not the type of girl I’d imagine with Lando. He needs someone more glamorous."

@TrackTalk: "Seeing Y/N and Lando together is weird. She’s too tomboyish for him. #Mismatch"

instagram dms

Unknown: "Y/N, you should just stick to skateboarding. Leave Lando for someone who actually fits in his world."

Unknown: "You’re cool, but not WAG material. Lando deserves a real queen, not a skater girl."

Unknown: "You’re ruining Lando’s image. He needs someone better, not a skater girl."

Unknown: "Why is Lando wasting his time with you? You’ll never fit in his world."

twitter replies

@RacingFanatic: "Lando’s ex was so much prettier. What happened, @LandoNorris?"

@F1Glam: "Y/N is a downgrade. Lando should be with someone more stylish."

@PitStopPrincess: "Y/N is talented, but she doesn’t belong in the WAG circle. Lando can find someone better."

instagram story reactions

👎👎👎: "Y/N is so out of place with Lando. Bring back his glamorous girlfriends!"

💔: "She’s cool but not the right fit for Lando. I miss his old WAGs."

instagram poll

@F1GossipHub: "Do you think Y/N is a good match for Lando?"

Yes (25%)

No (75%)

twitter trending hashtags

#BringBackTheModels #LandoDeservesBetter #MismatchCouple

more twitter comments

@F1Chatter: "It’s sad seeing Lando with someone so below his league. He used to date such beautiful women."

@GlamF1: "Y/N is talented, but she doesn’t belong in the world of F1 WAGs. She’s too different."

@SpeedyGossip: "I like Y/N, but she’s not the type for Lando. He needs someone who matches his lifestyle."

instagram comments on lando’s post

@F1FanGirl: "Lando, you can do better. Y/N isn’t the one for you."

@RacingChic: "She’s not WAG material. Miss the days when you dated models."

@GlamQueen: "Y/N is too different. You deserve someone who fits the WAG profile."

end of pov

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at her phone. The screen was filled with hurtful comments and criticisms that seemed to pile up no matter where she looked. Each notification felt like a new stab to her heart. She felt utterly crushed by the online hate.

The next morning, she tried to put on a brave face. She chose a floral dress from her closet, something she rarely wore. She looked in the mirror and forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She didn’t feel like herself.

As she walked into the kitchen, Lando looked up from his coffee and did a double-take. “You look stunning my love! But are you not skateboarding today?"

Y/N cut him off with a forced smile. “Just trying something new. and no I'm not going today. How’s your morning?”

Lando frowned, sensing something was off. Over the next few days, he noticed she was changing her wardrobe more and more, opting for dresses and stylish outfits instead of her usual skateboarding gear. It wasn’t like her at all.

Finally, one evening, Lando decided to confront her. He found her in the living room, sitting on the couch with her legs tucked under her, staring blankly at the TV. He sat down next to her, his expression serious.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asked gently. “You’ve been acting so different lately. Wearing all these dresses that I know you don't like, not skating… it’s like you’re trying to be someone you’re not.”

She didn’t meet his gaze, her fingers nervously fiddling with the hem of her dress. “It’s nothing, really. Just felt like a change.”

Lando reached out, placing his hand on hers. “It’s not just about the clothes, is it? I can tell something’s wrong.”

Her resolve broke, and she turned to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I just… I read all the comments online. People saying I don’t fit your world, that I’m not good enough. It’s hard to ignore, Lando. I started thinking maybe they’re right.”

Lando’s heart broke at her words. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “Oh, Y/N… I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Those comments are nothing but noise. They don’t matter. What matters is how I feel about you.”

She clung to him, her sobs muffled against his chest. “But… I don’t want to be someone who doesn’t fit in. I just wanted to make you proud.”

Lando gently pulled back, looking into her eyes with a mixture of sadness and determination. “You don’t have to change anything about yourself for me. I fell in love with you for who you are, not for who others think you should be. The reason I’m with you is because you’re real, and you’re amazing just the way you are.”

Y/N shook her head, wiping at her tears. “But what if who I am isn’t enough?”

Lando cupped her face in his hands, his eyes intense with emotion. “You’re more than enough, Y/N. You’re cooler than anyone I’ve ever met. The way you skateboard, your passion, your spirit—it’s all a part of who you are, and that’s what I love. Those comments, they don’t change how incredible you are.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching for sincerity. “Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle. “I’ve seen how hard you work, how dedicated you are. You inspire me every day. And the idea of you changing yourself to fit some standard is just wrong. You make me proud every single day.”

Y/N’s tears continued to flow, but now there was a flicker of hope in her eyes. “Thank you, Lando. I needed to hear that.”

He kissed her forehead, his own eyes misty. “Anytime, love. I’m here for you, no matter what. And remember, you’re the one who makes my world brighter. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I love you so much baby, don't let anyone dim your spirit.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of the world lifting slightly as they found solace in their love. Lando’s words became a balm to her wounded heart, a reminder that their bond was stronger than any online hate. Together, they faced the storm, united in their love and unwavering in their support for each other.

landonorris posted

liked by y/nn, maxverstappen1 and others

landonorris my girl, i love you more than anything. fuck the haters

[breezeflows]

The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is here yippee!! I feel like these first few chapters are kind of slow but it’ll be worth it i swear!! And also a huge thank you to everyone for showing the first chapter so much love! It means the world to me. Now with all that aside here is Chapter 2! <3

Themes: This chapter is prettyyy sappy, Ford and Reader sort of make up? (Let’s see how long that lasts) sad feelings, small arguments, kissing, yearning, etc all the stuff that’s blanching okay anyways

The next day you find yourself sitting in a booth at Greasy’s Diner, idly stirring creamer into your cup of coffee. The diner is relatively quiet, the only sounds coming from the occasional clinking of silverware against plates and the soft hum of the AC unit. The smell of bacon and fried eggs wafts through the air, and sunlight streams through the large windows, casting the small diner in a warm glow. You take a sip of your coffee, the caffeine working its way into your system as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of yesterday’s events.

You’re soon brought out of your trance as your close friend Lizzy arrives, sliding her way into the booth in front of you. Her strong perfume drifts through the air as she tucks her curly blonde hair behind her ears, showing off the golden hoops she’s adorning as she readjusts her bright green V-neck. She reaches into her purse, grabbing a bright red lipstick and begins applying it as she speaks.

“Sorry I’m late doll. Traffic was a total nightmare!”

Your face warms at the presence of your close friend, although it doesn’t seem to ease the heartache you’re feeling from your previous encounter with Ford. Your hurt being evident in your tone as you reply.

“It’s no problem Liz.”

Lizzy’s gaze instantly meets yours as she pauses, catching onto your tone immediately. She studies you for a moment, lowering the red lipstick as she takes in your tired eyes and solemn expression.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks gently, voice laced with concern. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

You sigh, your shoulders drooping as you begin to explain your situation to Lizzy.

“I don’t even know where to start,” you say, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater. (Ford’s sweater ahem ahem) “Things have been… hectic, to say the least. My relationship with Ford has been falling apart, and I feel like I’ve been living with a ghost these past few weeks. He’s been completely immersed in his research, and he barely even acknowledges my presence anymore.”

Lizzy watches you carefully with a frown, her brows furrowed in concern.

You continue, your voice faltering slightly as you recall the recent events. “Yesterday morning, we had a tense conversation where he basically said that his research is more important to him than our marriage. And then one of our old friends from college showed up and it made the situation even worse.”

Lizzy listens intently as you speak, her expression filled with sympathy. Once you finish explaining everything, she reaches across the table and takes your hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“I’m so sorry you’re going through all of this Y/N,” she says soothingly. “You deserve so much better than that doll. And you should definitely get out of that house for a bit and clear your mind. How about you come stay at my place for a couple of weeks? You don’t need to deal with all of this...” she waves her free hand around as she continues. “Man-stress, alone.”

A wave of gratitude washes over you at Lizzy’s offer, and you can feel the tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. She really was an amazing friend. You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

“Are you sure?” you ask. “I don’t want to impose or anything.”

Lizzy chuckles dismissively, giving you a reassuring smile.

“You won’t be imposing on anything Y/N. I’ve got a spare room in my apartment, and it’ll be nice to have some company other than my boyfriend. Plus, a change of scenery might do you some good.”

You take a second to consider her offer, weighing the pros and cons in your mind. The idea of getting away from everything for awhile was tempting, and spending time with a good friend is always a nice thought. You take another deep breath, pushing down the small voice in your head that is telling you to stay and make things right with Ford. You knew he wasn’t going to change his mind anytime soon, or at least it felt that way.

“Okay,” you finally say, your voice slightly stronger now. “I’ll stay with you for a while. Thank you, Liz, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

Her smile widens, and she gives your hand another squeeze. “Of course chick,” she says. “What are friends for right?” She then reaches over and takes your coffee, thoughtfully taking a sip of the not-so-hot liquid.

“So, do you need help packing a bag, or do you want to go back home first to get your things?”

You think for a moment before replying. “I can head back to the house to pack a bag, but I’ll probably need to leave the car for Ford in case he needs it. Could you pick me up around 3:00?”

Lizzy nods in understanding, a slight frown on her face at the mention of Ford. Even when the two of you were fighting you still looked out for him, it was admirable.

“Yeah, of course,” she says. “I’ll be there at three. Text me when you’re packed and ready, and I’ll head over to pick you up. Just focus on getting what you need, and don’t worry about anything else, kay?”

You down the rest of your now-shared coffee, feeling a sense of relief at the prospect of getting away from the stressful atmosphere of your house. You thank your friend once again for her kindness, promising to message her once you’re ready to be picked up. With a small wave you leave the diner, heading back towards your house to pack a bag and prepare for your temporary stay at Lizzy’s.

As you make your way back to the cabin you realize walking may not have been the smartest choice. The skies have darkened, and the air has grown crisper. Large, plump raindrops begin to fall, creating a soft patter against the pavement. The once bright and sunny day has transformed into a dreary, rainy afternoon, the weather seeming to reflect your current situation.

You quicken your pace, the sound of rain getting louder as it hits the ground and the surrounding trees. The house soon comes into view, standing tall and imposing against the grey sky. Your clothes and hair become soaked with rain as you speed towards the front door, swinging it open and shutting it behind you.

As you step into the house, the heavy door closing behind you with a soft thump, you are surprised to find Ford standing in the entryway. He looks the same as before, tired, and a bit weathered. Although he seems taken aback by your appearance, his eyes flickering with surprise and… something else.

“You’re soaked,” he says, a hint of concern in his voice. “What happened?”

You turn your gaze from him as you shed your coat, revealing his old sweater underneath as you place it on a nearby hook.

“I went out with Lizzy for a late breakfast and got caught in the rain.”

Ford watches you as you hang your coat and begin to remove your shoes. He notices the slight distance in your voice, and the way you avoid his gaze. He knows deep down there’s more to it than just a simple breakfast with a friend. He hesitates a moment before speaking.

“I see,” he says slowly. “So, you two just… had breakfast?”

A sigh escapes you as you sit up straight, finally meeting his gaze.

“Yep.”

Ford’s jaw clenches slightly as he studies you, clearly sensing that there’s more to the story than you’re letting on.

“That’s it?” He presses, a note of skepticism in his voice.

“I’m going to be staying at her place for a couple of weeks.”

His eyes widen at your response, his lips parting in surprise. The hint of skepticism in his voice grows stronger as he takes a small step towards you.

“Wait a minute,” he says. “How long..?”

You turn your head from him with a frown, hugging your arms as you speak in a quiet yet frustrated tone.

“I’ll be out of your hair this way and you can focus on your project with Fiddleford, since it obviously takes higher priority.”

Ford’s eyes widen even further, a mix of shock and pain crossing his face at your words. His hands clench at his sides as he processes what you’ve just said, his mind reeling.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, his tone now filled with frustration. “You’re treating this like I just want to get rid of you, like I don’t-“ He pauses closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Like what Stanford?” you step forward, beginning to become angry with him. “Don’t act as though you didn’t tell me that your research is bigger than our relationship. You’ve tossed everything aside but now that I’m leaving for a few weeks you’re suddenly concerned?”

His eyes snap open at your outburst, scowling as his expression was a mix of frustration and guilt.

“You’re twisting my words,” he snaps. “I never said my research was bigger than our marriage. I just…” He falls silent, his anger deflating slightly as he looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of pleading in remorse.

“I just need some time to focus on this project,” he continues, softer now, his frustration giving way to desperation. “But that doesn’t mean I wanted you to leave. I… I never wanted that Y/N. Never.”

Your anger and resolve begin to crumble at his pleading state, your eyes softening as they meet his. You find your legs moving on their own as you step towards him, your arms slowly reaching to wrap around his middle. You rest your cheek on Ford’s shoulder, inhaling his scent. A mixture of pine and musk, with a tinge of smoke.

He lets out a shaky breath as you approach him, his rigid stance relaxing as you embraced him. His own hands eventually find your back, hesitating for a moment, but soon returning the embrace. He holds you as close to him as possible, trembling slightly as he buried his face in your hair.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispered, his voice muffled, but filled with a combination of mixture and despair.

“Please don’t leave me.”

You tighten your arms around him, your voice soft and reassuring.

“I’m not leaving you Ford,” you speak, your breath warm against his neck. “I just think we both need a bit of space right now. I need time to sort out my thoughts, and I think getting away for awhile will help with that. But I promise you I’m not leaving you.”

Ford’s grip on you tightens slightly at your words, as if he is afraid to let you go. His body tremors faintly as he absorbs your reassurance, his voice a mixture of relief and resignation.

“How long?” he asks with a vulnerable tone. “How long will you be gone?”

You pull back, just enough to look him in the eyes. You reach up, gently cupping his face in your hands, and he leans into your touch.

“Just a couple of weeks at most,” your thumb stroked his cheek as you spoke, giving him a look of sympathy. “When I get back, we can work through this, alright?”

His eyes search yours, his expression now one of understanding. Ford nods slowly, his hands moving to cover yours, his calloused fingers gripping your wrists gently.

“Alright. But please stay in touch. I need to know you’re okay.”

You manage to give him a soft smile and a nod, before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to his lips. Ford’s eyes fluttered shut at the unexpected gesture, a small sound of surprise escaping him. His hands grip yours even tighter, his body leaning into yours as the kiss lingers for a moment.

After sharing a few more, you finally pull back. Ford’s eyes open, and he gazes at you with a look of surprise and yearning. A slight flush of pink is apparent on his features, his lips parted and slightly reddened from the act. He observes you for a moment, before bringing your knuckles to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there as if trying to hold on to this moment for as long as possible.

“I’ll miss you,” he spoke tenderly. “Don’t forget about me while you’re gone, okay?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sixer.”

Ford’s heart skips a beat at the familiar nickname, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He pulls you closer, enveloping you in his embrace once more, large calloused hands wrapping around your back.

“Good,” he murmurs, resting his chin atop of your head.

“Because I’ll be counting the days until you come back.”

tags :) - @artistic-gato @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum

[iimr3]

reasons why (in my opinion) the try guys hit the nail on the head with forming a subscription service where watcher fumbled:

try guys has already been making TV-caliber content for a while. without a recipe and phoning it in both feel like professional cooking shows, and the fact that they have actual celebrity guests adds to that. their audience is extremely familiar with them having this huge set and a ton of employees working to produce the videos they love. on top of that, they've been around longer. they mention at the beginning of the announcement they've been on YouTube for ten years, & dropout/CH similarly had been around for a while when it's streaming service dropped. try guys just always felt more professional & as a fan you immediately understand why they would need more money

(edit) also, they have formed an emotional connection between the audience and their employees! people love rachel & know how hard she works & want to see her get paid well for that work. not that the watcher team don't deserve that, but their audience is way less emotionally invested in their employees' wellbeings than with the try guys audience & their non-talent team (& I say this as a fan & regular viewer of both channels).

try guys already had experience with paid content that went over really well with their audience. their live shows proved that their audience was willing to pay a decent amount every once in a while for something cool, and they proved that they would actually provide something cool for that money. people pointed out how watcher neglected their patreon; the try guys made very good use of their live shows imo. and as a result, they are able to say "you'll get free tickets to the live shows!" which is a really good perk if you are someone who enjoys those. instead of paying $20 every once in a while for one live show, you can pay 5$ for free live shows and early content and exclusive new content.

plus, they also reveal their expanded cast, which is something all of their fans have been wondering about for over a year. it's not just keith and zach you get to see, but all of these people their audience now loves and is always talking about wanting to join the try guys officially. collectively the try guys announcement feels more positive in multiple senses, both in emotional vibe and in what the audience is getting out of this.

also: no one can say for certain whether or not they decided to keep posting on YT after the watcher debacle, but I'm gonna give them the benefit of the doubt & believe that they always intended to stay on YouTube. it makes sense as a business decision & it's clear they've been working on this for some time (despite what some people seem to think??). tbh I don't think they were trying to be cruel to watcher in their announcement, I think they just saw that shitstorm and understood they needed to make it clear to their audience that they are not making the same mistakes. EDIT: in the most recent trypod, zach confirmed that they have been planning to 1) create a streaming service 2) keep posting content free on YouTube since 2023. so, no, they did not create 2nd Try or decide to stay on YouTube because of Watcher. stop trying to manufacture drama.

also also: they have, especially in the trypod, been very candid about their struggles with the algorithm and appealing to youtube's demands for content. in one episode I remember them talking about how they wanted to reject the "constant expansion" mindset, placing more focus on what their existing audience wants rather than trying to constantly get new people. they have been open about how certain things they want to do are not viable because of monetization issues; smoke show is a recent example of this.

another edit: also in the recent episode of the trypod, Zach says that they reached out to Sam Reich of Dropout for tips on starting a streaming service & things to avoid. we have no way of telling if Watcher did this, but I wouldn't be surprised if that was also key in why they turned out differently.

tl;dr i think it comes down to what was presented (not leaving youtube, new content that wouldn't be allowed on youtube, free live shows, new cast), how it was presented (shorter video, focus on the excitement & positives, show of respect to those who can't afford the price), and the context surrounding it (being older, a reputation for more professional content, having prepared their audience for a big shift, having previously discussed issues with youtube and their content)

[absolutebl]

Top 10 Most Underrated BLs of the last 3 years

(mid year 2021 - end 2023)

This list will not include BLs that ended their run in 2024. I need some distance to know if something is actually underrated (We Are maybe?) or justifiably ignored.

1 I Cannot Reach You AKA Kimi ni wa Todokanai (Japan 2023 Netflix?)

This classic friends-to-lovers BL is everything Japan does best. Angsty. Emo. Aching. Driven by real thirst. Yamato is deeply in love with his childhood bestie, Kakeru, and has been for ages, increasingly unable to hide his ungainly damaging high school need. He wants Kakeru in every way possible and it oozes off of the screen. Kakeru is silly and a little simple, but not frenetic or overly camp about it. He is earnest, and genuinely wants to keep Yamato in his life, which means giving a romance (and gayness) a fair chance. We watch him realize his affection and what form it can take in a truly authentic way. This show was impossibly kind to both of its lead characters and I felt almost honored that I got to watch something so lovely and rare play out on my screen. Full review.

2 My Ride (Thai 2022 Gaga)

Thai BL grew up with this pulp (the first ever pulp to make my end of year top 10). It’s a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine (AKA a cinnamon roll couple) plus mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest, and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi rider in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. The support cast is excellent, making for great friendship groups and family dynamics. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede, the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. In other news, I am a sucker for a single dimple. Full review.

3 Our Dining Table AKA Bokura no Shokutaku (Japan 2023 Gaga)

A lonely salaryman (+ talented cook) gets accidentally adopted by a college kid (and his little brother). I was always gonna love this show if they stuck to the original yaoi (which is very dear to my heart). And they did! Paralleling it almost exactly. It’s a quiet & cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me as the best of what Japan can do with softness (like Restart After Come Back Home). It’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, but that's OK with me. This is a very safe show for anyone to watch.

4 About Youth (Taiwan 2022 Gaga)

A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and earnest depth. I didn’t even mind the singing, and that’s saying a lot. A weak seme/uke dynamic but tons of BL tropes (both rare in a high school setting but common for Taiwan) makes this one feel both sweet and colored by real world authenticity and grit. Full review.

5 Step By Step (Thai 2023 Gaga)

This was Thailand’s answer to The New Employee, and everything I loved about that show I loved about this one. This office romance between a stern boss and sweet subordinate felt more authentic to cubical work than previous Thai BLs of this ilk. That authenticity added tension to the narrative and its characters development (how novel). I also really enjoyed the charming side characters and the brothers' relationship to each other (although I could have done without that brother's side BL). Full review.

6 DNA Says Love You (Taiwan 2022 Gaga)

DNA deserves extra marks for an upbeat approach to a queer story arc that other shows have systemically mishandled with sadness (in the guise of realism). There is a twist, which I found predictable, but knowing what would happen didn't spoil this show. The leads are luminous and engaging, and it’s full of queer found family representation and an unexpected amount of domesticity, plus it’s Taiwan, so the kisses are great. The first few eps are rough going but have patience, it's worth it I promise! The second half is really special and life/love affirming - and the end is big-grin charming. Full review.

7 Unintentional Love Story (Korea 2023 iQIYI)

Of all the BLs on this list, this is probubly the MOST underrated. OMG the plot! Uke forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the PAIN in those gorgeous eyes. Gah. Okay, so: A boy loses his job due to trumped-up corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back, if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya). Full review.

8 Dear Doctor I'm Coming for Your Soul (Thai 2022 iQIYI)

This is a romance between a doctor trying to save his patients and a reaper who is both his enemy and (eventual) lover (basically the genius premise of a gay Doom at Your Service). High concept looks good on you, Thailand. It’s lovely to see KarnNat back on screen together and they are still great, and Karn is just as painfully beautiful as ever. I enjoyed this one more than its ending deserved, and the best I can say is that it’s not strictly HEA but if you’re okay with Life: Love on the Line, you’ll be okay with this BL. It’s set up well, there’s no surprise unpleasantness like HIStory 3: The BL that shall not be named. Full review.

9 Destiny Seeker (Thai 2023 WeTV)

A darn near perfect pulp featuring 3 likable grumpy/sunshine pairings with uncomplicated iterations of enemies to lovers. At least one half of each does a decent amount of pining and there’s good chemistry, classic tropes, and excellent communication rep. It’s fun and full of linguistic jokes. Sublimely cheesy but a good rainy day offering with tons of rewatch potential. (Also WAR PEANUTS!) Full review.

10 Make a Wish (Thai 2023 grey)

A doctor who can see the dead strikes a bargain with a wish-granting irreverent tree angel - naturally they fall in love (from Sammon: Manner of Death & Triage). Stars Fluke Natouch opposite not Ohm, but who cares because Fluke has chemistry with everybody. Once again the Thai afterlife is incredibly bureaucratic but I enjoyed the premise and the unfolding of the story (it’s not predictable but still satisfying and with nice little twist). I like that the doctor is just gay AF - fag hag bestie and made of swagger. The cast is excellent but the comedic stylings are a bit overblown and tonally off. It has sad parts and did make me cry but is ultimately happy with a great sex scene, good smiley kisses, and all the agency.

10 others I rarely see anyone talk about:

Triage - Many would put this at the top of the list, but I don't find it very rewatchable and that weighs a lot in my assessments. Still it is GOOD and very underrated. BL does Groundhog Day featuring a doctor stuck in a time loop who must save a poor little rich boy from death by seducing the stuffing out of him, then PLOT TWIST, poor little rich boy must do the same for doctor! Unfortunately… stuffing keeps leaking. I thought the plot was engaging if a little redundant and occasionally exhausting. The pairs were all well done, low heat but with decent chemistry and the support characters were likable (or unlikeable, as required). My reason it's not in the top 10? If anything, the romance arc detracted and distracted from the main plot, but that doesn't stop this from being a genuinely good show it's just time loop is not a trope I personally enjoy. Review here.

See You After Quarantine? - This under appreciated gem is Taiwan’s answer to Gameboys and is just as charmg and adorable yet still as quintessentially Taiwanese as one might hope. It features a Japanese love interest and the cutest most confused disaster gay. Slow burn because the two have almost no actual screen time together and yet manage some truly amazing chemistry. Honestly how does Taiwan do it?

The Tasty Florida - I don't know, maybe it's Speed nostalgia, but I love this one, classic Korean BL with all those strengths and flaws... but The Prettiest.

You Make Me Dance - it's Korea but somehow they got this one, maybe by featuring mature characters and a real world crisis? Also they both ve hot.

Blueming - at the time it got a lot of attention but it seems to have faded into obscurity under the shod of The 8th Sense and Love of Love's Sack. This was a precurser to both and well worth a watch if you like it when Korea gets a little gritty.

Love Stage!! (Thai version) - I liked this IP alerady more than most. But this is the best of the 4 adaptations, and the first full Thai version of Japanese IP. It's both charming and notable in the industry. Hard to find and that's why it gets so little creddit but I think it's well worth the effort to track down.

Oh! Boarding House - I think most who watched this din't jive with it because it's an ensamble piece witha wicked love traingle. But I really enjoyed it. It felt like the move Kdrama BL that Korea has given us and I like me some Kdramas.

What Zabb Man! - one of the better BLs to come out of Star Hunter in the last few years. I like this pair a lot more than most, and the sides are wicked great. This is probably one of my favorite food themed BLs, actually.

2 Moons The Ambassador - possibly the lowest scoring BL to appear on this list but I just really like the leads. Nothing else is good, but they are kinda awkwardly fantastic. I also like how gay af the seme is.

Stay By My Side - This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Despite a strong initial premise it ended up mostly being enjoyable for sappy domesticity but nothing more. Still, I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity.

Requested by the lovely @l1xyz

FYI: I judge “underrated” on the strength of what I see people talk about (or more precisely not talk about) on social media, MDL reviews, and YouTube watch numbers (when available, as compared to comparable shows from the same country). 

Because of this, statistically, there will always be quite a few BLs that are difficult to get hold of.

Here's my pulls of the Top Underrated BLs prior to 2021. Considering the amount of content generated over the last few years, the pool to draw from is likely about the same.

My Top 10 Most Underrated BLs prior to 2021

Seven Days

Restart after Come Back Home

Wish You

Nobleman Ryu’s Wedding

He’s Coming to Me

Oxygen

My Day

Most Peaceful Place

HIStory 2: Right or Wrong

HIStory: Obsessed

I'd throw Great Men Academy in there, but I always dither over whether it actually is a BL.

[rainybubbles]

10 A.M- Ghost x plus size reader

-Summary : Every day on leave Ghost watches his neighbor at 10AM during his smoke break. Will it lead to more ? (yes, especially with Johnny involed.)

-(Sorry in advance, English is not my first language, so sorry if it's bad or OOC. And I've posted it on ao3 months ago, so it's normal if you feel like a déjà vu)

-10 am. The ballet was starting.

-A foot missing a step, a groan of pain, clothes thrown on the ground, and an apple bitten into hastily. Breakfast was beginning, and the curtain rose, giving Simon the perfect view of his neighbor's daily spectacle across the landing.

-Eyes so sunken they rivaled his own, hands with nails cut short—Simon wondered why so short, perhaps their job? A habit? And their body, all curves.

-That's what had caught his attention in the hallway the first time.

-Such a ominous building welcoming such a pure ray of sunshine like them, Simon couldn't help but bask in their warmth from the shadows.

-A glint in a corridor had eventually become a routine. When Simon smoked on his balcony, they would open their curtains, and slowly, without knowing it, their routines became intertwined at certain hours of the day, briefly filling Simon's respites with a bit of humanity.

-"What are ye lookin’ at?"

-"Nothing that concerns you, Johnny."

-"L.T, come on." Johnny, curious, stepped onto the balcony, but they were already gone.

-"I’ve put up with you enough, stop pokin’ your nose in."

-"Ye volunteered when Price asked who could help me with my cast during our leave. Because Gaz was with his fiancée and Price with his sister. That's friendship."

-"Pity," Ghost corrected him.

-"It still means I make ye feel things, L.T."

-"Yes, and it's exasperation."

-"Seriously, what were ye starin’ at? I mean, apart from the poor garden, there's nothin’."

-Simon ignored him. One word and he knew what Johnny would say.

-"Talk to them. You have nothing to lose."

-Worse, the Scotsman might set up a situation where he'd end up stuck in an elevator with them. The explosives expert knew much more about physics and math than he let on.

-"By th’ way, have ye ever had someone in yer life, L.T.?"

-“…”

-"I see, we're playin’ neither yes nor no?"

-"We're playin’ 'no personal questions.'"

-"I'll tak’ that as a yes. Ah wonder whit yer type is? Redhead? Blonde? Brunette? Tall? Short? Or maybe brown, green, blue, gray eyes?"

-"People who don't ask questions."

-"Damn, rejected like that."

-"That's enough, Johnny."

-"Okay, I… would ye introduce me if ye ever had someone in yer life, no?"

-"No."

-"What?! Come on, I'm adorable!"

-"And invasive."

-"I left a sock lyin’ around one time." Soap remembered the incident.

-"In a frying pan."

-"It was an accident."

-Ghost sighed. His gaze shifted to the window; damn, he wished he could catch a glimpse of them for a moment, to gain some strength. As if his prayer had been heard, the window opened, their head appeared, watering their plants.

-"I see, so it wasn't just a cigarette," Johnny said with a smug smile.

-Unfortunately, that also meant they'd just watered trouble for Ghost.

-"Johnny."

-"I'm just saying they’re beautiful, that's all."

-"Not a word."

-"So… the curves?"

-"Johnny," Simon repeated, annoyed.

-"Okay, not a word."

-A silence fell, but Simon couldn't stand Soap's trembling leg.

-"One question." He eventually gave in.

-"How long?"

-"None."

-"What?"

-"We're not dating."

-"So a crush, huh?"

-"We're not in high school anymore."

-"But ye have a crush on yer neighbor like a teenager."

-"Johnny," Simon warned him.

-Soap backed off before grinning smugly.

-"I get it, I'd be the same if they were my neighbor, they seem cute," he added

-"Johnny, damn it," Ghost sighed, his cheeks slightly tinged with red.

-Soap laughed.

-"It's cute. I guess ye won't talk tae them?"

-"No. Not with our profession, not with my personality. they deserve better."

-"Even fur one night?"

-"I don't want a one-night stand, not with them."

-"I see, condemned to yearn, a wee bit sad."

-Simon didn't reply; it was his routine. Observe, analyze, and act. His strategy had been clear from the start: do nothing.

-So he finished his cigarette, hoping it would be 10 am again soon to relive this peaceful anticipation. The sun set, and it all began again.

-5 am, wake up. 6 am, jogging. 7 am, back, ready to take a shower and face Johnny.

-"Oh, sorry."

-But sometimes routines break. Simon watched his neighbor, struggling to move a too-heavy piece of furniture up the stairs.

-"Can I help you?"

-"I… I don't want to bother you, especially since you just came back from exercising—"

-"It's nothing."

-He carried what looked like a wardrobe to their landing.

-"Thanks again. I… I don't know if you knew, but we're neighbors. My name's y/n, I moved in there after Matilda. I know they wasn't… well-liked?"

-"We could say that."

-"No need to downplay it; I know they threw tomatoes at all the doors, ripped up their garbage on all the landings, and dismantled a door by mistake."

-"Hm."

-"I mean, at 80, it's impressive," y/n laughed.

-"For sure," he chuckled.

-"So, you're Smith, right?"

-Oh yes, the fake name on his mailbox.

-"Yeah."

-"Well, thank you, Mr. Smith. Honestly, I don't know how I would've managed without you. I told my roommate that having such a big wardrobe was pointless, but they never listens to me."

-"Roommate?"

-"Yeah, she lives with me. their name's Léa, maybe you've met her? Tall, blonde."

-"Hm."

-"She always wakes up late, and I wake up early, so we kind of live in the dark in the apartment, like real vampires. Perhaps you know her ?"

-"Thank you, Léa," Simon thought. Without her, he'd never catch sight of y/n on their balcony.

-"No, I don't think so."

-"I see. Do you have a roommate too?"

-"At the moment, yes, but it's temporary."

-"Oh, I see, a friend crashing. Happens."

-"Actually, he takes care o’ me," a voice said.

-If Simon could slow down his reaction, he'd be sure to see panic. Johnny, smiling, approached and introduced himself.

-"John, nice tae meet ye. This big guy keeps an ee on me, wi’ ma broken arm."

-"Oh, I see, that's not easy. Nice to meet you."

-"Ye ken, I was plannin’ tae make some muffins; I thought if ye like them, we could maybe give ye some since this guy doesnae like sweet stuff."

-"Johnny."

-"What, you don't like them?" y/n asked, surprised.

-"I… it's not my thing, that's all."

-"I see," y/n smiled. "Why not, okay, well, I mean don't poison us, but okay."

-"I'm no’ sure that would convince anyone no’ tae poison ye," John replied.

-"Maybe, but does it work on you?"

-"Aye," Johnny laughed.

-y/n thanked them and closed their door. Soap, with a victorious smile, looked at Simon.

-"Don't start."

-"We're makin’ progress, L.T, recon mission wit’ introduction."

-"This isn't a mission."

-"Of course, it is. Gaz agrees wi’ me."

-"Gaz knows?!"

-"It's the 21st century, L.T, phones are magical."

-"No."

-"By the way, if they ask for yer number, ye'll have to give them one that's not disposable…"

-"There won't be a number."

-"I bet there will be; they seem nice."

-"They thanked me for a favor; it's just politeness."

-"If ye say so."

-"Nothing's going to happen, Johnny."

-"We'll see."

---------------------

-"I was thinking we should exchange numbers! It's always handy, for dog sitting, plant watering, breakdowns, broken showers, or anything else."

-Soap looked at him triumphantly. Certainly, it wasn't y/n asking, but Léa, after accepting their muffins and inviting them inside. But Soap saw the papers with the two different numbers, indicating that y/n's was included.

-"For sure, but isn't a roommate kind o’ a hassle? I mean, I remember wi’ other folk’s boyfriends an’ girlfriends, it can get awkward," Soap asked.

-"For that, there would have to be some," Simon replied.

-"What dae ye mean?" "Well, I'm not interested, and y/n… they…"

-Léa seemed hesitant.

-"New acquaintances aren't really their thing, with social anxiety, you know."

-Simon raised an eyebrow. they had seemed so calm. He was also accustomed to social avoidance, so y/n's reaction to him surprised him, unless they had grown accustomed to his presence before. But that would mean he was a familiar face to them. Which would imply…

-That at 10 am, he wasn't the only one watching.

-A warm feeling filled his heart.

-"Why are ye smiling?" Soap murmured as they returned to his apartment. "It's bad news if they's as bad as you at talking, you'll be together when Price runs out of beanies to wear."

-"Hm, if you say so."

-"L.T, tell me, I ken ye ken something."

-"Soap, it's none of your business."

-"The code name, really?"

- "Johnny."

- "Simon."

-Neither broke eye contact; Johnny eventually sighed and raised his only free hand in surrender. Ghost nodded.

-He looked forward to the next 10 am.

________________________________

-At 10 am, with a cigarette in his mouth, they were there. their eyes on their hands. He smiled. Target acquired. How could he have missed it?

-Using his hands, he executed a slight sign of recognition. they jumped, surprised he had noticed them; he smirked. they responded with a hand waving back. He signaled for them to open the window.

-"Nice view?" he asked.

-"On such a shabby garden, no," they replied, ignoring his implication.

-"I meant the neighborhood.”

-"Well, not everyone can have a balcony."

-"Or a pretty neighbor."

-"I—"

-"Have a good day, y/n." He went back inside.

-Nothing will happen, my ass, Soap muttered as he watched him.

_______________________________

-Slowly, it became his game. Spotting y/n, signaling to them, and lightly flirting.

-It was nothing. Just a game of cat and mouse, that's all. It wouldn't lead to anything, he kept telling himself. But every day he waited for them.

-Praying that Price wouldn't call him. But apparently this time his thoughts weren't heard; Soap was sent to the base under someone else's watch, and Price called him for a mission. 10 a.m. should wait.

____________________

-"Mr. Smith?"

-Tired. Covered in mud, smelling of powder. Simon was back after three months, his eyes empty, his face covered, only his eyes remained. y/n stood in the hall, in pajamas, letters in hand, probably looking for their mail at... 1 a.m.? Who would do that?

-"y/n.”

-“ Everything alright? You're soaked. You know if you have a dryer problem, we have one."

-"Everything's fine."

-"I see. I... I got worried because I didn't see you around, I wondered if something happened to you."

-His cowardly heart quickened at this concern.

-"It was nothing, just work."

-"I see, you travel a lot then."

-"Yeah, you could say that."

-"Must be tiring, never... feeling at home, right?"

-Simon couldn't get a word in. He had never thought about it, in his childhood home, his sanctuary, he had never thought about it as his home, so as he grew up, he had no attachment to a place.

-"Not really."

-"Not a homebody?"

-"Yeah, but just a bit."

-"I... sorry, I'm asking questions while you're exhausted, I'm really sorry."

-"No need to apologize, such a pretty face coming home erases all fatigue."

-they frowned their eyebrows..

-"Do you mean that or is it for Léa?"

-Simon was surprised by the sharper tone.

-"Léa?"

-"If you want to get closer to Léa, please don't use me. I... honestly, all this flirting is confusing, if it's her, then don't use me."

-"I don't want Léa."

-"Oh." y/n paused, “then why?"

-"I don't know, why do people flirt, y/n?"

-"You."

-"Me."

-"So all this time..."

-"I'm eagerly waiting for 10 a.m., y/n."

-"I-, I'm sorry, I just thought you really liked Léa, I let my insecurities take over without even thinking about that, and I apologize for that."

-"No worries, now everything is clear. Goodnight y/n and see you tomorrow morning."

-"See you tomorrow morning, Mr. Smith."

-"Simon."

-"Hm?"

-"Call me Simon."

-Maybe Soap was right; he knew from the beginning that this wouldn't just be a flirt.

______________________________

-At 10 a.m., Simon noticed a blanket on his balcony. Hand-knitted with a post-it.

-"I'm not there today, but you seemed cold in the morning, so welcome back and have a good day."

-Slowly, he took the soft fabric. Draping it over his shoulders, he closed his eyes, letting the nicotine escape from his mouth.

-He knew he shouldn't. A part of him screamed not to trust, to flee. But he was so tired. He, too, wanted to go home and have that smile.

-Suddenly, the blanket felt too cold, the nicotine too bitter, and the balcony too narrow.

-What was he doing dreaming of a normal life?

-Simon was officially dead, flesh living for a task force. He shouldn't even think of the hope of surviving long. He had given up on that. Slowly, he placed the blanket back on the balcony. The window was closing. He decided that maybe the 10 a.m. breaks weren't a good idea.

___________________________

-"You ken, it's no’ Pokémon, L.T."

-"Johnny," Ghost calibrated his rifle as the car swerved through the bends.

-"What's he talking about?" Gaz, in uniform beside them, ready for the mission, asked.

-"Our dear L.T. fled like a Pokémon facin’ its neighbor."

-"My life is none of your business."

-"Ye're missin’ something extraordinary, obviously. They just told ye it's mutual, an’ there ye are, runnin’ away. Imagine what ye’re sayin’ tae them."

-"It's better for them."

-"Coward."

-Simon looked away. It was better this way. Proof was, he was off again to risk his life for two months. No one wanted a life like this.

-y/n didn't know about Ghost, didn't know about the PTSD, about Tommy, about Joseph. He was just the slightly mysterious neighbor from the balcony.

-"They know nothing, it's better this way."

-"Maybe he's right, Soap. Some people aren't meant to be with soldiers," Gaz tried to reason.

-"He's just using runnin’ away as a defense mechanism, Gaz."

-Simon ignored the rest. The voices were blurring. He had to stay away from y/n; their warmth could burn him if he got too close.

_______________________

-Dead.

-He held the dead girl's body in his arms.

-Riddled with bullets, their poor little hands weakly holding onto Ghost's uniform in a last hope for life.

-The blood on his hands wouldn't go away. He washed, scrubbed, scraped, over and over.

-The blood remained on his hands.

-He had to save them.

-He had failed.

-The mission was a success.

-But everyone was dead.

-The coldness of the body wouldn't go away.

-The shower didn't help; no matter how hard he scrubbed, increasing the heat, nothing could rid him of the horror.

-His breathing wouldn't calm, his vision darkening, his legs trembling.

-He knew what was happening.

-Slowly he sat on the floor, the sound of water deafening, his ears ringing, the hot and cold alternating in his body, sweat increasing. A panic attack.

-"One, two, three." He repeated. Trying to calm himself, he began counting again. One, two, three.

-But the numbers tangled, and the memories seemed so real. The girl's body seemed to be at his feet. He knew it was impossible; he was in a shower, in a terrible apartment, not on the battlefield. But nothing could be done about it.

-"Mr. Smith?"

-Everything shattered. His bubble burst, and suddenly reality hit him. Getting up, staggering, he grabbed a towel and walked to his front door out of habit.

-"Yes?" he managed to say, his hoarse voice scratching his throat.

-"I'm sorry to interrupt, but our shower exploded, and I was wondering if you knew about it or if you could let me borrow yours because I... I'm a bit covered in ink."

-He opened his door completely, and...

-y/n, hands covered in blue ink, even their nose staring at him wide-eyed. Remembering his attire consisting only of a towel, he closed the door.

-"I'll get dressed and be right there."

-"Yes, I- sorry again, I didn't know you were in the shower."

-He didn't reply. Damn it, he had promised not to let their into his life.

-Putting on a hoodie and sweatpants, he opened his door.

-"On the left at the back." He indicated in a slightly dry tone. His thoughts still roughed up after his panic attack.

-Noticing that y/n wasn't moving, he frowned.

-"I wanted to know if I offended you? I don't know if I'm imagining something, but it looks like you're avoiding me?"

-Not as discreet as he thought.

-"I was busy."

-"I see. If I offended you anyway, I apologize."

-"It's not your fault, y/n."

-"Oh."

-"Just... shitty job."

-"PTSD?"

-Simon stopped.

-"The walls are thin, you can hear the girl from the fifth floor sneezing, so you can imagine that your screams at night..." She added.

-"I see."

-"My father had it too, if you ever need help, well not psychological help, that's more for a therapist, but support, I can." y/n said anxiously.

-He blew air out of his nose.

-"Military father?"

-"Cop," they replied.

-Simon noticed the underlying tension.

-"Not on good terms?"

-"Few people get along with their father, right?"

-"Some do."

-"Do you?"

-"No."

-They smiled.

-"To rotten fathers, then.

-“To rotten fathers. Now I suppose you should hurry if you don't want the ink to dry on your hands."*

- "Oh shit, yeah."

-Y/n rushed into the shower. When they returned a few moments later, Simon watched them.

-"Any reason for this ink explosion?"

-"It's ridiculous,”they said, but Simon motioned for them to sit down.

-"Go ahead."

- "I like... tattooing. I don't have the talent, but I like to try tattooing fake skins in my spare time, but my blue ink exploded so I tried to use the shower but it looks like we have a plumbing problem."

-"Tattooing?"

-"Yeah, but it's nothing crazy, just a hobby."

-He nodded.

-"Well, I'll get going." they murmured.

-Ghost wanted to hold their back. His hand reaching out reflexively, he thought better of it.

_______________________________

-"So?"

-"So what? Didn't you listen to Price during the briefing?" Ghost replied to Soap.

-"Ah’m nae talkin’ about that, but the GIL mission."

-"Gil?"

-"Ghost in love."

-"I'm not in love."

-"Hmm, so nae progress wi’ the neighbor?"

-"Soap."

-The Scot stopped. Feeling the blue-eyed gaze not leaving him for a moment, Ghost sighed.

-"We talked again."

-"Ah!"

-“Shower problem, they needed one."

-"Is that it?"

-"We're neighbors."

-"That's disappointin’."

-"Thanks, Johnny." Ghost replied sarcastically.

-Simon spared the details. It wasn't just a shower, but a shower during the two weeks of leave he had had.

-With the plumber unable to find the problem, y/n and Léa had somewhat cohabited with Simon for that brief moment. Maybe... he had shared more teas with y/n than he admitted.

-Even if he wanted to flee, to shut himself off, to reject y/n, he crawled for a crumb of their attention.

_____________

-Returning from his mission, Simon walked through the hall when he heard it. Cries echoing in the corridor.

-His landing.

-Knowing that Madeline, the other neighbor on the landing, couldn't cry due to death, it was either Léa or y/n.

-Approaching, he noticed a silhouette sitting on the doormat. y/n. they seemed to be trying to pick up debris from the floor, their hands bleeding.

-Worried at the sight of the red liquid, he walked towards them without thinking, examining their wounds. Pieces of metal and glass were in their hand.

-"Simon," they managed to articulate between sobs.

-"What happened?"

-"It's stupid, honestly, I'm ridiculous crying over this, but... a box fell and broke my tattoo machine. I know I could buy a new one, but that... it broke me?"

-Ghost was relieved it wasn't anything serious. He nodded.

-"It's not a big deal, it's your passion."

-"I know, but an artist doesn't cry when they run out of lead with their pencil."

-"Well, then they should invest in tons of tissues," Simon joked.

-They laughed through the tears.

-"It's just... everything, I guess. I'm tired, I have a shitty job, I thought I'd finally make it with my fake skins, and now my machine breaks like a sign."

-"Not a sign," Simon said. "Don't give up. Now let me look at this; we'd want to avoid infection and stitches."

-They nodded and followed Simon into his apartment. Ghost's expert hands treating theirs.

-"The tattoo," Simon began. "It's not just a passion, is it?"

-"I... it was my dream for a while."

-"'Was'?"

-"My parents wanted something safe, I didn't know anatomy, people drew better than me. At 13, I was the artist of the class, the little prodigy, at 18 I was just an artist like everyone else. I had nothing... extraordinary, so I gave up."

-Simon nodded.

-"I don't think so," he finally added, finishing their bandage.

-"What?"

-"That you gave up. You may think so, but practicing so hard, continuing to do it every day, it seems like you've always held on."

-"I... never saw it like that."

-"Plus, who wouldn't dream of being tattooed by an angel?"

-"Simon!"

-He smiled.

-"I missed... our exchanges," they whispered.

-He stopped.

-"Me too."

-"Okay, so are we starting fresh? No more running away?"

-"I can't promise that."

-"Oh."

-"I was talking about constant exchange, I've been... an asshole thinking I was doing the right thing, but it seems obvious that no matter my efforts, our paths intersect."

-"So you'll stop running?" y/n asked, their eyes meeting his.

-"For now," Simon finally said.

-"I see, cool," y/n said.

-"Cool," he repeated, squeezing their hand.

-They got up and left. Simon let his eyes wander over their curves.

-Fuck.

_____________

- "Not a word, Johnny," Ghost said, putting his things down.

-"I didnae say anythin’!" the Scotsman complained, entering the briefing room.

-"I know what you were going to ask, and no."

-"So it's progressin’."

-"Johnny."

-"Okay. Just... ye're allowed tae be happy, L.T."

-"Hm."

-Simon avoided his gaze, his attention on Price. The captain questioned Simon with his eyes, Simon indicated with the same look that he would explain later.

________________

-“Ten o'clock breaks are nicer on a balcony."

-"Really? I thought you preferred waking up in the dark and stumbling around looking for your window," Ghost joked.

-y/n laughed. "Mean. It's cool to see the other side," they said, blowing on the tea Ghost had made.

-Sitting across from him, Simon could get used to it. A morning shared together, a breakfast enjoyed. The sun bathing their face, their hair tousled from waking up...

-"Hm, better than spying?"

-"You're the one who was stalking me."

-"You were doing the same."

-"But I wasn't looking at the other with a murderous look, I thought you hated me at first."

-"Really?"

-"Yes. I mean, I'm not the sexiest view in the world, so I thought you hated seeing me when you smoked. I even tried to shift my hours so you wouldn't see me."

-He laughed. "You're the sexiest view there is, y/n."

-"Wrong, there's Megan thee Stallion."

-"Hm, second view then."

-His phone beeped. Simon sighed.

-"Is it work?"

-"Yes."

-"You're leaving?"

-"In two days."

-"I guess you can't tell me where."

-"No."

-"Or how long."

-"Hm."

-"So, two months."

-"What?"

-"Well, if you can't say anything, I can imagine it, right? Like your mask, I never knew why, so I imagined you had vampire teeth."

-"Vampire teeth?" Simon mocked.

-"You never went out except at night, you came back late, your blinds were always closed, and your pale skin, what else could I think?"

-"Ill?"

-"..."

-"Hypochondriac? Scars?"

-"Okay, my theory was dumb, no need to twist the knife, Simon."

-He snorted.

-"You're beautiful without it," y/n finally added.

-"I know."

-"Fuck you, Simon, I'm trying to flirt."

-"Hm, 'trying' is the right word."

-"Simon."

-"Fine, 'thank you, y/n', is that better?"

-"Yes."

-Simon winked at them, y/n rolled their eyes.

-"By the way, I have a package arriving on Friday," Simon said.

-"And?"

-"It's for you."

-"A gift? But I didn't do anything."

-"That's the point of a gift, y/n. Plus, I know your birthday is coming soon."

-"Léa?"

-"Your ID."

-"How did you get it?"

-"I needed to check who you were," Simon lied.

-"...Léa," he eventually admitted.

-"I thought so."

-"Happy early birthday."

-"Thank you, Simon."

-And there, Simon wanted to engrave this image of their smile.

__________________

-Alone, lost in the forest, waiting for the target, Simon wondered what y/n was doing. Was they sleeping? Had they opened their gift? Did they like it?

-His thoughts stopped, focused on the mission, with a new desire. The desire to go home.

-To go home. To y/n.

_________________

-"Simon!"

-Tired, jet lag leaving his body heavy, but his eyes squinted at the sight of them.

-"y/n."

-"I..."

-They seemed hesitant to hug him, not quite sure what to do. Simon wanted it.

-"Oh damn, hugging y/n, melting into their warmth, leaving his hands on their curves, their thighs so soft, their hair."

-"Hug okay?" they asked.

-"More than okay."

-"Sure? I know it's not your thing, so it's not obligatory."

-"y/n, I'm sure."

-they nodded and hugged him. their scent filling his nostrils, Simon let go of his bag, letting his arms wrap around them. An embrace comforting him, finally stopping this fatigue. Ghost could leave to let Simon come home.

-"Welcome back," y/n murmured into the embrace.

-"I'm back," he whispered back.

-"I missed you. I... thank you for your gift. I... you're crazy to have spent so much, a machine of this quality..."

-"I intend to let my second sleeve be done by you."

-y/n backed away, surprised.

-"Simon, you don't even know my tattoo style."

-"And?"

-"Imagine if I'm into kawaii? Or a cute colorful Hello Kitty watercolor?"

-"Then I'll have a magnificent Hello Kitty," Simon replied.

-they laughed.

-"That would suit you well."

-"Without a doubt."

-"I might do that when I get my certification."

-"Wait, certification?"

-"I passed the hygiene certification. It's time I stop putting myself down. If I'm a failed artist, well, at least I'll be an artist."

-Simon smiled.

-"I'll be your first fan."

-"Léa is already there."

-"I already have to fight for you, damn."

-"I'm popular, you'll have to get used to it."

-He smiled.

-"Well, I'll let you go home. Good night, I suppose." y/n smiled and went home.

-He nodded and went into his apartment. However, he stopped.

-"y/n?"

-"Hm?"

-The words didn't come. Ask them to stay for what? Tea? Talk? He felt so pathetic.

-But y/n seemed to read him and took his hand, leading him into his apartment. Guiding him to his bed, they lay down beside him. Their bodies still clothed under the sheets drew closer.

-"I didn't imagine the first time in your bed like this."

-"Really?"

-"Hm, yes. I imagined a bit more warmth."

-"The heating is there."

-"Oh, shut up, Simon, you know that's not what I meant," y/n said, laughing.

-He nodded. His hands finding their place on y/n's body, embracing them.

-"My thighs aren't stress balls, Simon."

-"No, they're perfection incarnate. So soft, trembling, they're perfect."

-"It's fat."

-"Exactly."

-y/n chuckled and relaxed into his arms.

-"Does this mean something, us?" they murmured.

-"Yes."

-Not another question, and Simon fell into a deep sleep.

-Waking up, y/n in his arms, Simon decided he didn't want to wake up without their anymore. Enjoying the brief moments of peace, he let his thumbs trace circles on their back.

-"Hey," they murmured.

-"Hey."

-"Did you sleep well?"

-"Yes."

-"Simon, you have to let me go if we're going to get up."

-"Why get up?"

-"To eat?"

-His stomach answered for him. Simon sighed and got up.

______________________________

-"L.T., how dare ye?"

-"Soap."

-"Why?!"

-"Why what?" Simon asked, irritated, looking up from his reports.

-"Ye slept wi’ them!"

-"How do you know that?"

-"Ye smell good."

-Simon frowned.

-"So, I don't smell good usually?"

-"Na, ye smell like aftershave, but now it's soft."

-"Yes, I slept with them. Need details?"

-"AYE!"

-"Well, you won't get any. It was platonic, nothing sexual."

-"...so a nap."

-"Yes, McTavish, a nap."

-"...damn it, L.T., that's disappointin’."

-"I don't care."

-"Invite me tae the weddin’ in a century then."

-"You won't be invited."

-"You love me too much for that, L.T.!"

-"In your dreams, McTavish."

______________________

-"So, a lovebird in your life?"

-"Not you too, Cap."

-"I'm just curious, Simon. I know how closed off you are."

-"They're the one, sir."

-"Nice?"

-"They understand PTSD and all that shit."

-"Hm, so one to keep."

-"To marry."

-"Good luck, Simon."

-"Thanks, Cap."

----

-"Simon?"

-Blood. y/n, dead. Simon standing over their body.

-Gasping, he stood at his door, needing to know, to touch them, to prove they were alive.

-He hugged their, checking their pulse. It wasn't an illusion; they were there.

-"Simon, five things you see," y/n murmured, understanding he was there without being there.

-"You, my hands, your doormat, your coat, and your slippers," Simon eventually articulated.

-"Four things you touch."

-"y/n."

-"Simon, focus."

-"Your hair, your neck, your hips, your shoulders, your cheek."

-"Three things you hear."

-"Your pulse, my pulse, your voice."

-"Two things you smell."

-"My sweat, your perfume."

-"One thing you taste."

-"My blood."

-y/n nodded, and Simon opened his mouth, his teeth so tight he had bitten his tongue. His breath, still shaky, was calming.

-"I'm there," y/n murmured, not moving from his embrace.

-"Do you want to talk about it?" they asked.

-"No."

-"Let's sit on my couch, better than standing at the entrance of the apartment, okay?"

-Simon didn't let go of them for a moment.

-Hours passed, nothing could calm his paranoia.

-"You haven't shaved," y/n murmured.

-Simon couldn't articulate, he just nodded.

-"Can I do it for you? I know under your mask, it must feel better when you're clean-shaven."

-He nodded again. Slowly they guided him into their tiny bathroom, shaving him precisely, calmly, in a soothing silence. His eyes never leaving their face, Simon wanted to scream, cry, shake them, show them he was broken, reject them, make them run away but...

--they were there. Not forcing him to talk, letting him slowly come back down, anchoring him to reality.

-"You know, sunscreen and moisturizer would help your skin a lot," they murmured as they applied the lotions to his face slowly.

-"Especially with your chalky complexion," they added, chuckling.

-That sound, so soft, calmed his heart.

-"Okay," he managed to say.

-"I'll buy you some."

-"...Thank you."

-"Thank you for everything, for the crisis, for the beard, for the lotions, for not asking questions, for welcoming me into your life."

-"You're welcome," they replied, understanding the implication.

__________________________

-"I got rejected," y/n murmured.

-It was 10 a.m., they were on their balcony, the rain falling, they were sheltered.

-"None?"

-"No tattoo parlor accepted me for apprenticeship. Maybe I'm not good enough."

-"Or they're just blind."

-"Simon."

-"You'll make it, y/n," Simon murmured, taking their hand.

-"Maybe, but I... don't feel legitimate to continue."

-"Van Gogh was considered worthless all his life."

-"I hope to have recognition before death, Si'," y/n said, laughing.

-"And there it is, the smile suits you better."

-"Thank you, Si'."

-"Always there."

-they nodded.

___________________________

-"Si'."

-Late at night, in front of a cheap show, they were on their couch.

-"Hm?"

-"Are you... attracted to me?"

-"y/n."

-"I don't want big words, it's just... I don't want to be with someone who loves my personality and accepts my body out of pity. Not feeling desired, I know what that's like, feeling like a second option too, and I've never... addressed the subject with you. Being with a fat person is something different, the looks of others... it's something. And I don't want to be a secret or a shame."

-Simon observed them.

-"So I've been shitty."

-"What?"

-"Because every step, every breath, every part of you ignites a burning desire in me, y/n. I've been shitty at showing it if you think for a moment that every inch of you, every roll, every stretch mark isn't something I love about you."

-their breath caught for a moment.

-"I want to touch you, taste you, let your plump thighs around my head as I kiss you, I want to feel that belly with every bounce when we make love, I want to kiss this body."

-"I- I just wanted a yes, Simon," y/n replied, their voice rising in pitch, their gaze shifting away from the sudden warmth in the room.

-"Well, you have it," Simon added, a predatory look in his eyes.

-"Yes."

-The silence stretched.

-"Aren't you going to do anything, y/n?"

-y/n leaned in.

-"Yes."

-they kissed him.

_____________________

-"L.T., thanks again for coming."

-"No one wanted to miss this, McTavish," Price added.

-"A Scottish Hello Kitty tattoo, that's not to be missed, that's for sure," Gaz said as he entered the small salon.

-The place was peaceful, comfortable. A young woman greeted them and guided them to the artist's station.

-The men settled. Soap in the chair, the others on the chairs to support him.

-"Hello everyone."

-Price and Gaz greeted the tattoo artist, but Soap spoke up.

-"YOU BASTARD! YE DIDN'T TELL ME!"

-"Soap, what's-" Price began.

-"I don't need help, Johnny, I told you."

-"Ye didnae tell me, it's horrible, I was waitin’ and ye two, ye... how long?" he asked y/n.

-"Six months."

-"SIX MONTHS?!"

-"Wait, you're..."

-"y/n, meet Gaz Kyle Garrick and John Price. This is y/n, my lover."

-"Pleased to meet you," Price said, shaking their hand. "I'm surprised this big guy managed to find someone as lovely as you."

-"Thank you."

-"Six months," Soap repeated.

-"I wanted to tell you, but we wanted to take our time and with all my paperwork to find an apprenticeship and a place, I didn't realize how time passed," y/n admitted.

-"Wait, ye’re an apprentice?" Soap asked, terrified.

-"Yes, but don't worry, I'm not doing your tattoo today. I'm just preparing the equipment," y/n joked.

-"Oh, nae that I dinnae trust ye but-"

-"Don't worry."

-At 10 a.m., lost in a tattoo parlor watching Johnny get a Scottish Hello Kitty, y/n by his side, and Gaz and Price smiling.

-Ghost had finally found a new meaning to home, and he wouldn't leave it for anything in the world.

[megamindsecretlair]

The King and I, Part 1

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. This is more background than anything, so mentions of violence, violence against women, brief mentions of rape, torture, murder, slave trade, and suicidal ideation. Hopefully this will be 3 parts, will lead to smut! Ya heathens, I know what you here for LOL. And you all deserve forehead kisses.

Summary: Raised to be perfect, your father has had it with your disobedience. He marches you to the palace and throws you at the King's feet. You'd rather die than be another person's property. But the King surprises you in many ways.

Word Count: 3,533k

A/N: Couldn't get this idea out of my brain and it definitely doesn't follow the canon in the movie. AH well, LOL. I love it and that's all that matters. Hopefully, my brain continues to cooperate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion

Before you had a chance to be a little girl, you were coveted for your looks. How pretty you were. How nice your hair was. Paraded out in front of many odd, adult people who looked at you with strange things in their eyes. Things you were too young to understand.

As you got older, it only got worse. You were expected to sit there like a doll and let people talk over you or around you, as if you were no more than grass beneath their feet. Wind in their hair. Something always there and easily ignored.

So you made the decision to be seen. You gave opinions when they weren’t wanted. You stayed in other people’s business. You resisted and rebelled. It was nice while it lasted.

Your father made sure to curb you of such habits. But somehow, the punishments never took like they were supposed to. You continued to speak. To use the gifts the gods gave you. If they did not want you to speak, they should have taken your tongue.

At his end, your father gave up his pursuit of a wealthy match for you. “If you will not listen to me, I will give you to someone you have no choice but to obey!” Spittle flew from your father’s mouth.

As you were marched to the palace, that was the one thing you focused on. Your father was a proud man. Perhaps you had gone a step too far if he was letting spit fly from his mouth with abandon. This was the least of your concern, true, but being cast off on the newly appointed King Ghezo was too big to face head on.

People in the village watched as you were marched there, your father’s grip on your arm near bruising. His thick fingers were wrapped around your upper arm. He set a brutal pace and walked forward whether you were able to keep up or not. You stared at the people. You made them look at you.

You didn’t expect them to do anything to help you. No one ever lifted a finger to help little girls. You were many years an adult by now, but to everyone, you were still so young. Young in the ways of the world. But growing up, weren’t you taught the ways of the world? 

The powerful were in charge with no one to challenge them otherwise. While everyone else was sheep, forced to do their bidding. 

Your feet tripped over rocks in the dirt road. Your father continued marching. The palace gates were not far now. Dread started to inch its way to your heart. You had never seen the King, but you heard how your parents whispered about him. How he was both similar and different from his father and brother.

His father had been a cruel man, living in ways that your people hadn’t lived before. Surely, his son would be no different. When you learned that you were going to be given to the new king, you pictured how ugly he must be. How cruel. 

Your father was handing you over like a piece of meat. Handing his daughter over as if he had no hand in birthing you, raising you, guiding, and protecting you. Now you were nothing to him. You looked at him as he jostled you down the street. His eyes were set forward, a frown on his face.

Did he not feel anything at all? All these years you had been in his care and there wasn’t an ounce of feeling in him.

“Did you ever love me?” You asked. You were out of breath and it was said softly. Perhaps he didn’t hear you. You hoped. You didn’t really want to hear his answer. Hear that despite everything else, he did not share that love for you as you did for him all these years.

“You are an insolent child. I will make more of you. I will instill in them obedience where you had none,” he spat. 

You refused to cry. You had an idea that he didn’t truly love you. Sometimes he’d look at you with such…hate. As if you were a stubborn stain he could not remove. You thought it was because of your looks. Because it was all anyone could talk about. But even when it was just you and your mother, he would still look at you as if he could cast you out with a single look.

At the palace gates, the guards halted your father. The red doors were large, stretching high above you. Anyone who went in, never came back out. You heard whispered words about why the King would need so many women. There was talk of him eating flesh. If he sold it, was there a big stretch to eating it? 

You’d die before you got eaten. As your father argued with the guards, telling how he had a disobedient child that the King could do whatever he wanted with, you made the second biggest decision of your life. You will die before harm befell you. In whatever form that was. 

If the King forced himself on you, you’d kill him and take yourself with him. If he tried to put you in a stew, you’d make him watch as you bled all over his fancy robes. The guards finally opened the gates enough for you to peek through.

Women were engaged in combat. Your mouth dropped open at how fierce they looked. You were not allowed to look upon the Agojie when they returned from their battles beyond the walls of the kingdom. But now you dared not to look away. 

Your father pushed you forward. One of the guards caught you and you turned your head to your father. This was the most satisfied you had ever seen him. He hoped that the King did something awful to you. He was counting on it.

You straightened up behind the walls of the palace. You looked your father in the eyes and you smiled. You spat on the ground at his feet, that smile still on your face. His smile faltered, rage contorting his features. You turned your back on him and walked into the lion���s lair.

The guards handed you off one by one until a young guard escorted you to the front of the palace. In the training yard, men and women walked around with heads held high. It had never been your intention to become Agojie, but perhaps the mad King will let you once he found out how unsuitable for a wife you were. 

The thought of killing anyone made you ill, but it would be better than to be bound to someone who could have you killed with one word. 

The guard took you to the door that led to the inner palace. An Agojie met you there, a tall woman with beautiful features and sharp nails. She looked you up and down and conversed with the guard. You didn’t pay attention. You were marching to your death, what did the particulars matter? 

The woman took possession of you, leading you into the inner palace where it was women only. Everywhere you looked, there were Dahomey women walking freely. They laughed! They trained, they ran, and hugged each other without abandon. There were a few women from other tribes there, but…this sight robbed you of clear thought.

“You will catch flies if you leave your mouth open like that,” the Agojie said. 

The Agojie stalked forward, a hand on the hilt of her weapon. You briefly wondered how you could steal one unnoticed. You searched around you. There were weapons everywhere but there were so many Agojie, you doubted you’d be able to capture one. 

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Nanisca,” the warrior said. “You’d do well to listen to whatever the King wants.” 

You didn’t need to be reminded of the King’s cruelty. It was all your father taunted you with for days as he made his decision to hand you over. You followed Nanisca to the palace proper. There, a man dressed in bright purple robes greeted you. He was bald with lots of jewelry hanging from his nose, ears, and around his neck. He looked you up and down and then rolled his eyes towards Nanisca.

“I suppose we will have this to look forward to from now on,” he said.

“As long as our King breathes air,” Nanisca said. She left you there with the man. 

“Come,” he said. You followed him, though dread made your steps wooden and your limbs frozen. You were too deep to escape now. But escape to where? Outside the kingdom, you ran the risk of slavers. Rapists. Murderous thugs who would know where you came from and kill you just for being born in the wrong tribe.

The palace was nice, almost peaceful. There was the clank of weapons outside. Grunts and sounds from the Agojie as they practiced. The palace was big but also felt empty. As if there weren’t a lot of people there.

The King must be fat then. Perhaps he ate all the servants and would-be brides. The bald man led you through to a chamber with many chairs. On a raised dais, there was a large throne and a smaller one beside. 

“Wait here,” the man said. He twirled and disappeared down the hall. You took a step forward, looking at the displayed riches and art work. If a king was cruel, did he know anything about art? Or beauty? 

“Is this necessary?” You heard mumbling and turned towards the door, ready to face the King head on. To see what kind of monster your parents have subjected you to. 

A young man walked in, with thick curled hair and light facial hair. He wore robes of gold, his robe split open revealing a well defined chest. He stood in the doorway and gazed at you as you did him.

He certainly didn’t look monstrous. You knew that evil things often came in the prettiest packages, but he was beautiful. Strong. Solid. 

He was still your new jailor, you mustn’t forget. So you stood there and looked him in the eye. You were not a victim and you will not be treated as such. 

“What is your name?” He asked. He pressed into the room further, looking you up and down with desire in his eyes. Your parents taught you well. How to spot it in others. 

You told him your name and he repeated it. As if to savor it around his tongue. He walked closer until he was within reach. Up close, he was even more handsome. You had to fight yourself from getting distracted by his looks. He was still cruel. You remembered all the horrible stories about his brother. He couldn’t be any different.

“So your father has given you away to me.” 

It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “He has, my King,” you said.

“Do you wish to be given away?” He asked.

You gasped and looked at him. You looked to the bald man for help but he was turned away from the two of you. You looked back towards King Ghezo. It was the first time anyone had asked what you wished. For it to come from a king who should not care what you wanted…you weren’t sure what to do with the information.

“N-No,” you said.

King Ghezo nodded. “I wish I could make it easier for you. But you are too beautiful to be Agojie and if I turn you from this palace, you will have nowhere to go.” He reached for your hand and you snatched it from him. He smiled patiently as he held out his hand to you.

He was only pretending to be nice. A stupid, hopeful part of you had thought he wasn’t like the stories. He was worse. Still, he was correct. If he turned you away, you had nowhere to go. Once you had been here, everyone would assume the King used you and not deemed you worthy. Cast you out like a whore. You would be forced to sell your body. 

You took his hand. He gripped it lightly and smiled. He kissed the back of your hand. “Welcome, my Queen,” he said.

The next few days were a blur. King Ghezo’s first wife saw to your preparation for the wedding. The eunuch from earlier saw to your lessons, what was expected of you. No different than what your father had wanted from you. To be on your best behavior and only speak when spoken to. 

You hadn’t seen the King since then, but you caught glimpses every now and then. You were given your own quarters and servant, someone to tend to your needs. It was odd to have someone help bathe you, but the King preferred cleanliness to all else. He was vain on top of a liar.

The feast arrived in no time and you were painted up like a doll. At the wedding, you stood there as expected. If you had smiled any harder, it would have split your face in two. You had stood there like a goat on the pasture, ready to be bought and chopped up. King Ghezo studied you, encircled you, and found you acceptable. You had been tense, near trembling. You hated every second of it.

But now you are married. You sat beside King Ghezo at the high table, while he joked and laughed with his advisors. His other wife sat on your side, quiet and dull. You pitied her. The fight had left her long ago. You were still young. There was still time for you. While everyone smiled and laughed and enjoyed the feast, you hid a knife up your sleeve. It wasn’t that sharp, but it’d do the trick when the King tried to climb in your bed tonight.

You smiled in his face and feigned an innocent routine. You waited for the casual cruelty. When he would hiss for you to shut up, eat more, eat less, sit up straight. It never came. He only gave you brief glances, each always polite. A smile on those plump lips. You couldn’t shake your resolve though. Tonight, you’d be free. Whether free in death or free in life was entirely up to him. 

That night, you lay in your bed. There was a door there that led to a small balcony overlooking the rest of the kingdom. It was mostly the trees in the forest, but they were tall and mighty and more than the view you got back home. You did not spare your father a thought, but you thought of your mother. It had not been her choice to marry such a cruel man. 

It had not been your choice to marry a cruel man either. However, you felt as if you had a child, you would have moved the heavens and the earth to protect it. To not let what happened to you, happen to your own daughter. You supposed that dream was gone now. You’d either die tonight and never have a kid, or face the wrath of the kingdom and bear one without your permission. Somehow death seemed kinder. 

You did not want to die. But how could you live within these walls? With that monster? Admittedly, you did not hear any screams late in the night. His first wife seemed unbothered. Untouched. She had borne him his first son, so perhaps he left her alone. And perhaps goats flew over the moon. 

Men were only interested in one thing from a woman. And it was not her brain. 

A soft knock tore you from your musings. You tensed up, sliding your hand beneath your pillow to wrap around the handle of the knife. Maybe if you pretended to be sleep, he’d come back another night.

The door pushed open, soft feet padded inside, and the door closed again. You lay on your side, turned towards the open balcony. If you screamed, would no one come to your aid? 

“Are you awake?” King Ghezo’s soft voice reached you. You didn’t answer. Your breaths were stalled in your chest. Your hand cramped from holding the knife too hard. 

The King poked at your shoulder before making you roll over. “I know you are not…”

You sat up and had the knife at his throat in one fell swoop. The King’s eyes widened, but he looked at you, not the knife.

“Will you kill me, my Queen?” He asked. 

You pressed the knife into his skin, hard enough to know you meant business but careful not to break the skin. You were already committing treason, but somehow, it was important not to mar the king. 

He stared at you. Those deep brown eyes set in such a handsome face. You looked for the cruel man you heard about. Where was he? You could harm a cruel man. They deserved it tenfold. Why wasn’t he making this easy on you?

“I don’t want to,” you finally admitted. “I have to.”

“Why?” 

What did he mean, why? “Aren’t you angry?” 

“Angry at a scared woman who has no one on her side? No,” he said. He was so calm, so patient. This was at odds with everything you built up about him in your head.

“Don’t pity me,” you said. You pushed the knife in deeper. 

He leaned away and held his hands up. “I do not pity you. I will not pretend to know your life. But I can promise that you’re safe here,” he said.

You scoffed. “I’m not safe anywhere,” you said. You pressed your lips together. That hadn’t been what you meant to say. You meant to throw it back on him, that he could not promise safety when he dealt in the slave trade. When he looked at his people and only saw money from white devils. 

His eyes softened and he slowly smiled. “No man intact can enter this palace. Beyond that, we are protected by the fiercest warriors in the world. Beyond them, there is a first legion still to defend this palace from enemies. Here in the heart of it, you are the safest you’ve ever been.” 

“But who will keep me safe from you?” 

King Ghezo leaned forward, making you choose between cutting him or retreating. You eased up on the pressure. “You can do a finer job protecting yourself than most women can,” he said.

You stared at him. Your arm began to shake from holding the knife for so long. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t kill him. You were weak and would never be accepted as an Agojie. You would never fare well beyond these walls. 

You dropped the knife on the bed and held out your wrists. “I’m ready for my punishment, my King,” you said.

King Ghezo let out a long breath. You noticed now that he wore a deep, royal purple that highlighted his rich, dark skin. He wore minimal jewelry. He was just that magnificent on his own. Especially when the candle light flickered across his features.

“Punishment?” 

“I’ve threatened the King. I am ready for whatever punishment you hand out,” you said.

The King ignored the knife on the bed between you. It was within his right to take it and kill you. Or take it as evidence of your deceit. He could brand it for all to see as he threw you out of the palace. 

He did none of those things. He reached out his hand slowly and enclosed yours in his. You stared at your hands in comparison to his. He watched you as he brought your hands to his lips and placed a small kiss there.

“Plot how next you’ll kill me. If I have not convinced you of my intentions, of my character by then, you may carry through,” he said.

“What? No, no!” You said. You pulled your hands back but he held on. He pulled you closer until your hands were pressed against his warm, smooth chest. 

“Keep the knife, my Queen. This will be interesting between us,” he said.

This was surely a trap. A way for him to play and toy with you while he tightened the noose about your neck. Or gathered wood to burn you alive. Or for the Agojie to sharpen their swords to take your head with it.

“My King…”

“One day, I wish for you to call me your love,” he said. “But I will earn it or die trying.” A cocky grin spread across his face. It transformed him from a king to a man. A man who you were married to, sitting on your bed, with intentions involving you. 

He placed one more kiss on your hands and then retreated from the room. He never gave you his back, but he did smile and bow. Then he was gone from your room. A chill from outside caressed your bare skin and you shivered.

Was the king truly mad? Or were you? And why did he make you want to find out which?

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[hard-core-super-star]

a kiss to every scar [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: servicetop!hailee steinfeld x [inexperienced] bottom!reader

summary: hailee sets out to show you the ropes of acting on a tv show...unfortunately, your very obvious crush on her distracts her enough to stop being so professional.

warnings: smut -> no minors allowed [this is technically porn with plot but the plot isn't important; fingering [R receiving]; praise + petnames; needy hailee [yes, this deserves a warning]; technically public sex but not really [aka sex in hailee's trailer but she forgets to lock the door]; hailee being overly protective but also very horny; R is technically younger than hailee but the age gap isn't that important, the height gap is though :) [sorry to my tall peeps]]

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: this request comes to you straight from our beloved 🧞‍♀️ anon! i tried to balance the fluff and the smut but well...you already know i always end up getting carried away. i TRIED, though. i'm going to make an announcement soon regarding writing hailee so stay tuned for that because it's going to be important. anywho, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

You’re no stranger to surreal experiences. 

It seems like your entire life ever since being cast in your first TV role has been a series of unbelievable experiences after the other. Most of said experiences have been due to the overall excitement that comes with learning lines, going to outfit fittings, and talking through scenes with amazing directors and producers. 

However, the biggest, most surreal, of all the amazing things you’ve done has been meeting, working, and getting to know Hailee Steinfeld herself. The reasons for that are endless since you’re not only a genuine fan of her but you also have a not-so-small crush on her.

A crush that has thankfully managed to pass by undetected considering your overall awe at the work you get to do every day. It’s managed to be so undetected that you haven’t noticed how mutual the admiration that flows between the two of you actually is.

You’re not totally oblivious so you have picked up on some of the looks she sends your way and on the way she’s so adamant about helping you maneuver through the many obstacles that come with being on set all day. None of that seems like anything more than her being nice since you’re so new to a life that she’s lived for so long so you’ve never questioned it.

Plus, you like the feeling of her hand on your waist way more than you’re willing to admit to anyone. (Especially her)

Which is how you ended up getting talked into staying on set to watch Hailee finish her last scene of the day. It’s not something completely uncommon since you love watching her and the director in action but the brunette promised to buy you dinner afterward, something that’s never happened before. 

Your heart and mind have already made up more than enough excuses to overshadow the very clear intentions behind Hailee’s invitation but nothing can take away the pure joy you feel from being near her. 

A joy that draws in the actress like nothing else.

“What’d you think?” Hailee asks as she approaches you, her face lit up by a smile you know all too well.

“You’re incredible,” you reply the same way you always do and successfully draw a little chuckle out of her. “Seriously, I don’t know how you do it.”

“Practice…and way too much free time.”

She reaches a hand out to you, an unspoken question lingering in the air between you. You waste no time in taking her hand and letting her guide you toward her trailer so she can change back into her normal clothes. 

The walk is spent in the comfortable silence that always seems to follow the two of you and you pretend not to notice the way she keeps looking over at you with every few steps. You know exactly why her eyes keep shifting over to you but you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed about it. 

Despite how used to being on set you might be by now, you still admire each and every detail as if it was the first day again. Part of it comes from how unbelievable it all still is and another part of it comes from how cool everything is. There’s always so much to take in and it’s become a habit of yours to be present and grateful for every moment.

A habit that, unbeknownst to you, Hailee finds really adorable.

The list of things she likes about you is quite long but at the top of the list are your wide-eyed looks of wonder and the smile on your face nothing seems to wipe away.

It’s no secret that the brunette has taken a liking to you, especially in her attempts to make sure nothing snuffs out the bright beams of sunlight you carry inside of yourself. She knows exactly what that’s like and she’d sooner lose her role as Kate Bishop than let you fall into any dark spirals.

“So…” She speaks up, gently pulling you closer to her side. “Did anything exciting happen besides watching me?”

Your cheeks flush at her words which makes her grin. “Sort of. Florence and I talked about walking around New York tomorrow since it’s just going to be you and Jeremy filming scenes.”

“Oh, yeah? Where are you thinking of going?” She leads you into her trailer while you launch into the specifics of all the places you want to visit and the things you want to see.

The brunette watches you intently, although her attention slips from the words you say to the genuine excitement your body language conveys. You’re too busy talking to notice the way she’s eying you or the way she keeps licking her lips.

You finish your explanation only to be met with complete silence and Hailee’s tall frame leaning comfortably against the door to her trailer. 

“Lee? Were you even listening?”

The tiniest of pouts tugs at your lips and the actress is quick to make her way over to you, completely forgetting about the unlocked door and her promise of taking you to dinner. “I’m sorry, baby, you’re just too cute, I got distracted.”

The “apology” makes your heart skip a couple of beats and you’re sure she notices your flustered state. “I guess that’s fine. I should probably go anyway so you can change.”

You look away from her and attempt to walk away but she stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. The contact makes you stiffen, not because it’s unwelcome but because it sends an overwhelming amount of feelings through your entire body. “You okay, y/n? I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?”

Your eyes remain locked on the ground below you as you shake your head. The lack of a verbal response only serves to worry the brunette further and her free hand quickly tilts your chin up until her warm eyes meet yours. 

She doesn’t say anything but the question on her face is obvious.

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you force yourself to answer. “I just…I think I like it too much.”

The concern in her eyes shifts to something else, something bordering on passion, but you’re far too embarrassed to question it. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to be nervous. I like you too.”

The words don’t fully register in your brain at first. Sure, you’ve lived through a lot of unbelievable moments but this is something right out of those dreams you can never tell a single soul about. 

“You…you what?”

Hailee chuckles, taking the smallest of steps forward so your bodies are practically touching. “I like you too, baby. I hate to break it to you but you’re not as subtle as you think.”

“Neither are you,” you blurt out.

She leans in a little and your eyes instantly drop down to her lips. “I know.”

Her whispered words are the only warning you have before she claims your mouth with her own. Whatever shock you feel fades away almost instantly and you can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her and pulling her closer.

You’re so caught up in her kiss that you don’t fully register the way she gently pushes you up against the nearest wall and presses herself as close to you as physically possible. You don’t register anything besides the feeling of her lips and the way your hands tangle in her hair so easily.

Hailee’s not as zoned out as you are, though, and her ears pick up on the muffled sounds trying to escape you. She instantly pulls away from you, staring down at you with blown-out pupils. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply breathlessly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Your response doesn’t seem to convince her but at least she doesn’t notice the way you’re clenching your thighs together. “We can stop if you want, I’m not looking for a one-night stand or anything.”

The sincerity in her voice is almost too much to handle and the truth slips out of your lips before you can stop it. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

She blinks a few times and you practically watch as the wheels turn inside her brain. “You’ve never…oh. Oh, wow.”

Her response isn’t bad but it leaves you flustered all the same so you lean forward and hide your face in her shoulder. “Hailee…”

“Hey, hey, look at me, baby.”

A few seconds pass before you follow her instructions and she instantly melts your worries away with a soft kiss. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s cute.”

“It’s cute that I have no idea what I’m doing?” You question.

“Yeah, it just means I’ll have to show you. I mean, um…if you want, of course. There’s no rush.”

All you can do is stare up at her while you think things over. There’s no denying how nervous you are but you trust Hailee more than anyone you’ve ever met before. So, maybe it’s time to take a small leap of faith with her.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

The brunette groans in response and the sound goes straight to the growing heat between your legs. She wastes no time in attaching herself to your neck, kissing and sucking every inch she can find.

The sensation is so pleasurable, it borders on overwhelming and your hands grip her shoulders in search of the stability you lost the day you met her.

“You're so pretty,” she murmurs against your skin. “You don't know how long I’ve wanted you for.”

“Hailee-” You gasp as her hands find their way under your shirt.

“I know, let me make you feel good, sweetheart. Can I?”

The answer is more than obvious but you find yourself nodding desperately anyway. You know deep down everything about what you're doing is desperate and yet you can't find it in yourself to want to stop. Maybe it's unconventional but you don't need anything more than the brunette to make your first time unforgettable.

Hailee detaches herself from you long enough to help you shed your shirt, her eyes swooping down to take in every inch of you. Your knees buckle under her gaze and all she does is grin. “You're fucking perfect, baby.”

The words themselves are enough to make you burn a few degrees hotter but then her hands are removing your bra and you're quickly standing topless in front of her appreciative eyes.

Her fingers soon follow the path her eyes trace and you shudder in ways you can't describe. Her thumbs gently rub against your nipples, your back arching almost instantly as you turn into putty in her hands.

“Does that feel good, darling?” All you can offer is a moan and she chuckles. “Gonna need some words.”

“Yes. Feels so fucking good.”

“There you go,” she murmurs, swooping in to litter kisses along your jawline. “Good girl.”

She pinches your nipples right as the words escape her lips and you're sure you almost pass out from the pleasure. “Oh- please.”

“Begging already?” Despite her question, one of her hands leaves your sensitive nipples to trail down the front of your body. “Do you think you're wet enough for me to touch you yet?”

You hum in response and attempt to keep your hips under control. “So wet for you.”

“Look at you,” she coos while her hand slips under the waistband of both your jeans and your underwear. “You’re already an expert at getting what you want from me.”

“Lee,” you whine. “Don’t tease, babe.”

“I’m sorry, you're just so cute like this.” She rests her forehead against yours, everything about her seemingly cool and collected while you're burning up and panting. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Tell me if it hurts too much.”

Your inexperience leaves you a little clueless…until she starts to slip one finger inside your tight cunt. You gasp almost instantly, your body tensing at the intrusion.

“Relax, baby. I've got you.”

It's hard to fully relax but Hailee does her best to keep you distracted by murmuring soft praises and keeping up her gentle touches to your breasts. The full length of her finger sinks inside and she gives you a moment to breathe and adjust.

“How’re you feeling?” She asks, warm eyes searching your face for signs of unease or pain.

“Full,” you mumble with a smile.

She lets out a sound somewhere between a moan and a whine. “Fuck. That's so hot.”

The brunette leans in to kiss you before you can reply and you happily melt into the contact. You don't realize it’s yet another loving distraction until she starts to slowly pump her finger in and out of you.

You moan against her lips, the sound coming out muffled but no less desperate. Your walls clench almost uncontrollably with every move she makes which only fuels her need to pleasure you.

“You're doing so well for me,” she mumbles. “Taking me so well, aren't you, baby?”

Her words cause an unfamiliar feeling to start to rise from deep within you that only gets stronger once her thumb finds your sensitive clit. Your hips buck into her hand and she ends up burying her face into your neck to stop herself from getting too wild.

She somehow manages to keep her slow pace, fucking you nice and gentle to build up your orgasm and prolong your pleasure. At the end of the day, all she wants is to keep you happy.

“You’re so close, aren't you, sweetheart? I can feel it, the way you can’t stop clenching around me. God, it makes me so wet.”

You don't know what triggers it, maybe it's her words or her thrusts or the tight circles around your clit, but you fall over the edge instantly with a cry so loud, she has to kiss you to drown it out.

It’s impossible to describe how you feel. It's like you're floating and underwater and in the heart of the sun all at the same time. All you know is you've never felt pleasure like this and it's all thanks to Hailee freaking Steinfeld.

Hailee holds you close until your body stops shaking and you slump forward into her. “Hey, welcome back, y/n.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, every muscle in your body feeling absolutely spent yet satisfied.

She doesn't reply. She merely removes her hand from your sensitive center and kisses the side of your head.

“So…are you still up for dinner or…?”

“You're the worst.”

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

There are some heavy anti parallels between Daenerys Targaryen and Joffrey Baratheon/Cersei Lannister as monarchs in the way they treat Ser Barristan Selmy.

Joffrey dismisses Barristan Selmy from the Kingsguard because he needed someone to blame for his father's (Robert's) death. Of course, Joffrey is in reality his mother's puppet King, who considers dismissing Ser Barristan Selmy a great decision, as it would clear the way for Jaime to become the commander of the Kingsguard and give his a seat on the Small Council ( and Lannisters are all for nepotism in the way they run things). Plus, with Ser Barristan Selmy gone, Joffrey could make his personal guard Sandor, a member of the Kingsguard, something that Cersei also considered a winning situation.

Cersei sighed. "Joff wanted someone to blame for Robert's death. Varys suggested Ser Barristan. Why not? It gave Jaime command of the Kingsguard and a seat on the small council, and allowed Joff to throw a bone to his dog. He is very fond of Sandor Clegane. We were prepared to offer Selmy some land and a towerhouse, more than the useless old fool deserved."

Tyrion I, ACOK

The above passage not only reveals that Joffrey is his mother's puppet King but also that Cersei isn't the most clever person when it comes to ruling. Not only she fell for Varys' plan but she is also a very bad judge of other people. She considers Barristan Selmy an "useless old fool" when he's a great fighter and an asset due to his experience and strength for any ruler to have by their side. She also considers a great exchange to have Sandor in Barristan Selmy's place and we saw how that worked for the Lannisters at the end of ACOK.

Another passage on this specific incident that shows Cersei's myopic way of thinking:

"Ser Barristan was the Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard," Tyrion reminded her pointedly. "He and Jaime are the only survivors of Aerys Targaryen's seven. The smallfolk talk of him in the same way they talk of Serwyn of the Mirror Shield and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight. What do you imagine they'll think when they see Barristan the Bold riding beside Robb Stark or Stannis Baratheon?"

Cersei glanced away. "I had not considered that.

Tyrion I, ACOK

Let's compare it with Daenerys, who finds out that Ser Barristan Selmy was lying to her about his identity. What is more, she realises that the man she trusted as her advisor was serving Robert Baratheon for years. Ser Jorah, in a move that closely reflects Varys' manipulation of Cersei/Joffrey, offers to kill Barristan Selmy for Daenerys. But Dany, needs to first listen Barristan's story before she decides what she'll do with him:

"Why are you here?" Dany demanded of him. "If Robert sent you to kill me, why did you save my life?" He served the Usurper. He betrayed Rhaegar's memory, and abandoned Viserys to live and die in exile. Yet if he wanted me dead, he need only have stood aside . . . "I want the whole truth now, on your honor as a knight. Are you the Usurper's man, or mine?"

"Yours, if you will have me." Ser Barristan had tears in his eyes. "I took Robert's pardon, aye. I served him in Kingsguard and council. Served with the Kingslayer and others near as bad, who soiled the white cloak I wore. Nothing will excuse that. I might be serving in King's Landing still if the vile boy upon the Iron Throne had not cast me aside, it shames me to admit. But when he took the cloak that the White Bull had draped about my shoulders, and sent men to kill me that selfsame day, it was as though he'd ripped a caul off my eyes. That was when I knew I must find my true king, and die in his service—"

"I can grant that wish," Ser Jorah said darkly.

"Quiet," said Dany. "I'll hear him out."

Daenerys V, ASOS

Daenerys, unlike Cersei, won't allow any advisor of hers to cloud her judgement. She knew beforehand that Ser Jorah was antagonistic towards Ser Barristan so even if she doesn't fully know the reason yet ( the revelation that Jorah was a traitor happens right after that passage) she won't allow him to interfere while she gets Barristan's confession.

Of course, after she finds out that not only one but two close advisors of hers have betrayed her she has a strong reaction. It's only natural for her to do so. And yet, despite that antis always accuse her of being merciless, she shows mercy while dealing with them. Another ruler would execute them both for treason and no one would bat an eye. In fact, everyone would say that their action was justified while treating with two traitors. But Dany admits on her inner monologue that she can't do that:

Go, go away forever, both of you, the next time I see your faces I'll have your traitors' heads off. She could not say the words, though. They betrayed me. But they saved me. But they lied. "You go . . ." My bear, my fierce strong bear, what will I do without him? And the old man, my brother's friend. "You go . . . go . . ." Where?

And then she knew.

Daenerys V, ASOS

When they both return successful from their mission to help the capturing of the city of Mereen, it's time for her to decide what she'll do with each of them.

Even while she has every right to be angry with them - and she is- she is still fair towards them and admits twice that they helped her to win Mereen.

Before she makes her decision, she opts to listen to Barristan's story once again, to understand better the reasons why he acted the way he did. It's a good move for a leader because someone who leads needs to know all the facts in order to make a fair judgement on someone. And that's what Dany does.

Barristan doesn't sugarcoat his opinion. He tells her that he considered Robert a good man and that's why he followed him instead of Viserys who he thought to be unfit to rule. He even tells Dany that he lied about his identity because he wanted to make sure she was - unlike her father and brother Viserys- fit to rule before he pledged his sword to her.

Once again, another ruler would be offended by the knight's words. He insulted her dead relatives by calling them unworthy to rule,which are true facts but how many rulers or even mere noble do you know besides Dany that would accept hard truths about their families? And then he proceed to tell her that he didn't automatically choose to follow her because she's the rightful ruler - remember both Dany and Barristan live in a world where they believe in ruling by birthright- but first he had to test her abilities to rule. And Dany was okay with that! How many rulers or again mere nobles do you know that would be okay with someone questioning their birthright and telling them that they need to prove their worth before they claim it? I really believe that as a fandom we don't give Dany the recognition she deserves for being more humble than most while dealing with these subjects.

Daenerys decides to allow Ser Barristan Selmy to remain by her side and that shows her political genius - which again is hardly recognised in the asoiaf fandom. She set aside her hurt pride by the knight's words and saw the bigger picture: someone who decided to follow her not simply because of her birthright but because he considers her a component leader is gonna be forever loyal to her. And Barristan Selmy is an asset for a ruler to have by their side, something that Tyrion had pointed out on his own chapter while he was dealing with the knight's dismissal by his nephew/sister.

And Dany made the right decision because we can see how much loyal Ser Barristan is to her on the fifth book of the series. He remains loyal to her even after Dany goes missing towards to the end of the book.

[merakiui]

[01] 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒷𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓉, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁.

villain!azul ashengrotto x magical girl!reader note - welcome to this very impulsive magical girl parody! i'm not sure how many chapters it will be exactly, but i'm looking forward to writing more. i hope you'll enjoy reading! chapter navigation: [01] (you are here) // [02]

Magic is a messy, complex thing.

It can enchant and amaze with beautiful, endless possibilities. It can terrify with traumatic results. Like any sort of power in this world, it is a heavy responsibility for those who wield it. Everything has its dark side; you’re sure the same holds true for magic. No matter how marvelous it may be, surely there exists some shadow.

It’s also something you can’t use, and so the good and the bad don’t really apply to you!

Not that this is cause for envy. Rather, you’re relieved you don’t have to worry about experiencing the problems that accompany magic. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is; magic would only further complicate it. With no other plausible way to return to your world, you’ve had to make your home here on Sage’s Island. It’s an isolated place, boasting two elite magical universities and a bustling town.

It also happens to resemble a chicken wing on maps, so that’s a plus. Truly an ideal getaway! If only you weren’t trapped here indefinitely… Maybe then you’d have better appreciation for it.

As it happens, you’re a janitor living in the abandoned, decrepit dorm on the outskirts of campus. It took a month since you moved in, but you’ve managed to clean it up into a habitable space with the help of its resident haunts. The Headmage hasn’t been very helpful or present since your arrival, and so you’ve had to make do with what little you’ve been given. But for all of his troubling qualities, he isn’t inherently cruel. He’s kind enough to pay you for your services (but then that was only after you threatened him into an agreement), and he doesn’t overwork you (again, this is because you made it abundantly clear you won’t do anything if it violates your own sanity in some way, shape, or form). At least he’s willing to negotiate every time you argue for humane working conditions.

He’s an irksome guy. You can’t believe he has the gall to call himself the ‘embodiment of magnanimity’ when he’s done the bare minimum. Even the ghosts have offered more assistance and they don’t have any sort of authority here! You’re pleased to share a space with them. Sometimes they seem more reliable than the Headmage.

Despite your attempts to acclimate, the illustrious Night Raven College is still a place wholly unsuitable for a magicless human such as yourself. You’re the same age as some of the students here, but they feel like they’re on another level. Flying overhead on brooms, casting spells, mixing up potions… You listen in on some of their conversations while washing windows or sweeping the floors and wonder if all magic schools are this rigorous.

Maybe that’s any school regardless of its curriculum. Any sort of academic pursuit comes with difficulties; that’s normal. But magic is a facet unique to this world. There aren’t any arcane academies where you’re from, but now you wish there were. They seem so fascinating.

“Not much of my problem, though, is it?” you mumble, shaking free of that thought. Being a janitor is great. You can avoid the stress of school and keep up with the gossip exchanged in the halls. It’s like reading the newspaper, only it’s spoken instead of written.

Morning spills through the part in the curtains when you open them. You shut your eyes and bask in the warming glow of a sunshine smooch. It’s going to be another great day—you’re sure of this—and a day as pleasant as this deserves to be lived in its entirety. Perhaps you’ll have a picnic outside or you could even—

BAM.

Your eyes snap open just in time to view the raven who’s slammed itself against the window. Disoriented, it jerks itself up and away from the glass, flapping its wings wildly. You watch its attempts with a pitying frown. And then, inching closer to pull the window open to allow the raven respite, you see it: the blue flames racing towards you at a rapid speed.

With a yelp, you dive out of the way just in time. Due to the forceful blast, the window shatters in a spray of glass. Heat licks at your face, so hot it almost singes your brows, and you stumble to the other side of the room in a panicked daze.

“You lousy bird!” someone exclaims, the words pronounced in a growl. “Get back here so I can nab ya and prove that I’m worthy of bein’ at this school!”

The raven squawks, fluttering wildly about your room. A sleek, obsidian-colored feather floats into your hand. You don’t have time to admire it, for the curtains have just caught fire.

“Come on—I just put those up last week!” you bemoan, looking on in abject horror.

From the opening, a furry creature bursts through. He resembles a grey cat with his short, fluffy stature, but his tail is shaped strangely and there’s blue fire flickering from his ears. The same blue fire he’s currently conjuring in an attempt to catch the raven…

You grab hold of the coat rack—the nearest viable weapon you can think of—and jump in front of him. He startles and leaps back when you swing.

“What’re you doing?! You can’t do that in here! Fuck—my curtains! Don’t light anything else on fire!”

Baffled, the cat-creature scoffs at you. “How was I supposed to know someone’s livin’ in here? Not my fault!”

“It’s a residence! Of course someone lives here! I live here!”

“When they make me the Great Mage Grim, I’ll fix this place up for ya. That’s a promise! I just gotta catch that bird and prove myself a worthy candidate. Just you wait—they’ll be puttin’ my name up in lights!”

“Like hell they will!”

With a devastated groan, you whack the curtains down with the coat rack. They land in a heap, smoke curling from beneath the pile and sliding out the shattered window in dark, wispy tendrils. It takes a frazzled few stomps and smacks before the fire fizzles away, leaving you with charred curtains and the distinct stench of something scorched.

Still panting from the adrenaline rush, you loosen your grip on the coat rack. This is a mess. What am I going to do? I don’t have enough money to fix this!

You turn your hateful scowl on the cat-creature. “You!”

“W-Wait! Wait!” He raises a paw to his lips and gestures towards your bedside table. The raven sits perched, a golden chain wrapped around its neck and an envelope clasped in its beak. In all of the chaos, you must have missed that. “Don’t say a word. It’s right there.”

He approaches stealthily, slow as a sloth, and pounces. He misses narrowly, ending up with a mouthful of feathers instead. The raven caws and takes flight, circling overhead.

He spits feathers. “Myahaha! I got it! I actually—oh. Dumb bird… No one can escape the Great Grim.”

The raven lands on your shoulder next. It cocks its head at you.

“What? Is this for me?” you ask, even though you’re certain of the answer. You pluck the envelope from the raven, who sets to preening itself now that it’s no longer occupied.

“Give it here!” The cat-creature hops up onto your bed, reaching with an expectant paw. “That bird’s got my admission letter!”

“Your letter?” You hold it out of reach and stick your tongue out at him. “No ‘great mage’ sets someone’s home on fire. You’re a subpar mage, if anything.”

“I am not! You just wait—I’ll show you!”

“I don’t want to see anymore.” Turning away, you break the wax seal and procure the parchment waiting within.

He swipes at you impatiently. “Lemme see! What’s it say?”

Written in elegant script, complete with a stamp you’ve never seen before, it looks very official. Whoever wrote it is exceptionally good at cursive, their letters swooping together seamlessly. It’s almost like a decorative artwork with its double-looped O’s and dancing cursive. You marvel at the craftsmanship, wishing your handwriting could look as refined as this person’s.

To whom it may concern,  Greetings and congratulations on your admittance into the program! We recognize your outstanding achievements as a model student and believe you have what it takes to do wonderful things. It is with great pride that we bestow upon you a piece of magical history, referred to as The Tried-and-True Trident. You will find it enclosed in this letter.

You look up from the letter just as an aureate necklace lands in your palm. The raven blinks at you once before lifting itself off of your shoulder with a flap of its inky wings. It departs through the window, up into the cloudless, cerulean sky, in a flurry of feathers. There’s a tiny trident pendant hanging from the chain. It winks at you in the light, so shiny you think you might catch your reflection if you stare long enough. You’re not sure what part of it is tried or true, for it looks more like costume jewelry than anything. At least it’s cute. Kind of fashionable, even.

With this historic piece, you are now free to wield the wonders of the sea as you please. You are expected to use these powers to defend those you hold dear from the threat of tragedy. You should have met with your mentor already. If not, we shall send someone to escort you. We look forward to beholding your excellent heroics. Sincerely,

“Gimme that!”

Grim snatches the letter before you can glimpse the name signed at the bottom. The enchanted letter tears in two and then, before both of your eyes, it promptly disintegrates.

You eye the fuzzball with a fresh bout of vitriol. “What did you say your name was again?”

“It’s Grim—the Great Grim—and I promise ya as soon as I—”

“Good. Now I know what name to carve on your tombstone when I put you in the ground for ruining my letter!” You reach for the coat rack, expression ablaze with newfound ferocity.

Grim yelps and scurries away. “H-Hold on! I can fix it!”

“How? It’s ash!”

“Well, what did it say? I’m sure I can explain it to ya!”

“It said something about this necklace. The something-something trident. Protecting loved ones from tragedy. Admittance into some program. A mentor…”

“Mentor… Mentor! Yeah, that sounds about right!” Grim laughs proudly. “Aren’t you in luck, human! I’m gonna be your mentor.”

“Sure you are.” You rest your hand on your hip, brows raised. “The same cat who destroyed my window and curtains is gonna mentor me in whatever this is. Funny story.”

His jaw drops. “A-At least pretend like it’s cool! And I’m not a cat!” He hops off of your bed with a huff. “Ungrateful human. You’re undeserving of the Great Grim’s teaching anyways! I don’t need you!”

“Other way around.”

“You don’t need me!”

“There we go.” You applaud him sardonically. “Look, I don’t know what any of this is. I’m sure it was a mistake. I’m not even a student here.”

Grim, who had been on his way towards the door, halts. He turns to face you slowly. “Yer…not a student?”

“I work here. There’s no way for me to be enrolled here because I can’t use magic.”

“W-Wha—can’t use magic?! Then why did you get in, but I didn’t?!”

You can only shrug. The necklace twists idly when you hold it up for closer inspection. “So this thing is supposed to help me? Hey, Grim, do you know what this is?”

You lower to his height and hold your hand out. He watches you dubiously before approaching and leaning in to sniff at the chain.

“Smells fine to me. Kinda like wet metal.”

“I didn’t ask for a flavor profile.” You heave a tired sigh. The day’s only just begun and you’re already swamped with nonsense. “Maybe that Headmage knows something.”

Grim gasps. “You’re chummy with the Headmage? You think you could talk him into lettin’ me join?”

“Why do you even want in so badly?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a renowned mage! They should be begging me to join!”

Anyone could’ve sent that letter. It might not even be from the Headmage… If I knew the sender’s name, I could just track them down and ask them. 

“You said you wanted to prove yourself, didn’t you?” You offer your hand again, this time to shake on it. “Become my mentor. That’ll show that Crowley you’re plenty capable. Then you can get into this school and I can find a way to return this necklace to its rightful owner.”

Grim folds his arms over his chest, avoiding your hand like it’s the plague. “And what’s in it for me? My services aren’t cheap, y’know!”

“You can live here with me. I’ll find ways to sneak you into the lecture halls if you wanna sit in and observe the class.”

“How about food?”

“Food is…” Nonexistent, really. That cheapskate Crowley! I’ve got to talk him into raising my pay. “I get paid at the end of this week. We’ll have to survive off of what’s in the fridge and the lunch I’m allowed to get from the cafeteria for now.”

Grim’s features soften. “Hm… I guess it’s not terrible. Could be better. But all great mages start from humble beginnings—including myself, but you’d never be able to guess!”

“Right…”

With how carelessly you tossed that fire around, you’re the last mage I should be partnering with.

“Do we have a deal, Grim? You’ll be my mentor and I’ll help you wherever I can.”

Grim places his paw in your palm, his chest puffed out. “You’d better start callin’ me Teacher!”

A smile strains on your lips. “Not happening.”

With a firm shake, your pact is made.

“So what spells do you know? Any that might be able to fix up a window and some curtains?”

“You don’t need those lame spells! The Great Grim can do plenty of other amazing feats.”

“Like?”

“Very amazing feats. Didn’t you hear me?”

“You don’t know anything, do you?”

Grim flinches, guilt flashing across his countenance.

“Is blue fire all you can summon?”

“I… I can do much more! This is just a fraction of my true power! If I had a magestone, this whole spell business would be a lot easier.”

“A magestone? Ah, those things the students have on their pens? I guess that would be helpful. Where can we get one, though?”

“I’d tell ya if I knew.”

“The library might know. If we head there now, we can spend the rest of the morning researching and then we can get lunch.” You reach to fasten the chain around your neck. It’s tucked under your shirt next, safe and sound. “Wait outside for a minute. I’ll change out of my pajamas, clean up the window, and then we’ll be on our way.”

Grim trots out the door without resistance. “I’ll grab a snack from the fridge while yer doin’ all that stuff.”

“One snack! Don’t eat everything!”

But he’s already bounding away, singing as he goes: “Free eats can’t be beat!” Sighing, you shut the door and turn to assess the state of your bedroom. It could be worse. Your bed could have been damaged, or you could have sustained quite the nasty burn.

One mess at a time.

You change into your uniform, which is really just a PE jumpsuit. The same one the students wear. This one has seen better days and it’s a size too big on you, but it’s all Crowley claimed to have on hand when you asked about work clothes. Once again, you soothe yourself with your favorite adage: It could be worse.

You could be homeless. You could be starving. You could be dead.

So it’s not so bad to wear the spare. It’s still got the dorm patch and class numbers sewn onto it, albeit both have worn considerably. Your eyes are drawn to them as you admire yourself in the mirror. Octavinelle Dorm… You’ve heard there are seven dormitories at this school, each based on a historical figure and representing the various spirits of these people. The sorting at the entrance ceremony was something special for the incoming first-years. You’d felt a little awkward to disturb such a grand occasion, even more so when the Dark Mirror announced to a hall full of talented mages that there isn’t an iota of magic in you.

Quite the humbling experience.

But sometimes you wonder which dorm the Dark Mirror would have chosen if your soul was bursting with magical capability.

As of now you’re a faux member of Octavinelle—whatever that implies.

By the time you’ve managed to sweep the glass, dispose of the ruined curtains, and patch the window with a temporary placeholder—what a relief for pasteboard and masking tape—Grim’s nearly through the few items left in your fridge. You yank him away just as he reaches for a container of leftovers.

“If you eat too much, you’ll spoil your lunch.”

“Can’t imagine that problem.”

“You sound so proud of your bottomless stomach.”

“And you’re not?”

You roll your eyes and tug your sneakers on. “Let’s be off.”

“How’re we gonna sneak me in?”

“How do you feel about becoming my temporary purse pet?”

Grim looks unimpressed when you hold your tote bag open for him. “No way!”

“It has lots of space and it’s stylish. Besides, shouldn’t your dedicated student pay proper respect to her great, glorious mentor?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his approving smirk. “Well, when ya put it like that…”

After Grim clambers into your bag, you lock the front door behind you and set off for campus.

“Please don’t blow our cover, Grim.”

From within the depths of your tote, he scoffs. “The Great Grim is the stealthiest mage you’ll ever meet!”

“I highly doubt that.”

It’s the second time you’ve found yourself in the library, but it’s still just as impressive as ever. You could spend hours here, wandering between shelves and skimming all sorts of tomes. Some of them are written in languages you can’t decipher, so you observe the pictures provided in hopes of gleaning any clues. Grim lounges on a chair beside you, absentmindedly turning through a thick textbook. You managed to find a relatively isolated corner in the very back and it’s not especially busy today. The promise of a hearty lunch keeps him well-behaved.

“Find anything?”

“Nothin’ important. Ugh. This stuff is the worst! Why can’t a magestone fall from the sky? That’d be a whole lot easier than this.”

“It sucks, yeah, but what else can we do?” You rest your face against your palm and scan through yet another page of information. “Let’s keep looking. I’m sure we’ll find something useful.”

“Nngh… I’m hungry.”

“You just ate.”

“That was hours ago!”

“Has it really been that long?”

“Feels like it.”

You lean back in your chair and stretch, listening to the satisfying snap of your joints as they crack into place. “Can you understand any of these words?”

“Most of ’em.”

You point to a specific place in the paragraph. “Can you tell me what this one means? I think I’ve got the general idea based on the graphics, but I could be wrong.”

Grim glances at it, his blue hues waltzing across the page. “It’s about merfolk.”

“Merfolk? They exist in this world?” And then you pause to gather your delayed thoughts. “Never mind. That would make sense.”

“What about ’em?”

“Where I’m from, merfolk aren’t real. They’re fiction.”

“Huh. A place without any merfolk… Bet they don’t have anyone like me either. I’m one of a kind!” Grim chuckles. “So where’re you from?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts. You usher Grim under the table, who goes but not without protest. He ducks under just in time, hiding within the shadows. A student rounds the corner and stops short when he sees you. He’s holding a few books in his arms, each looking more heavy than the last.

“Ah,” the both of you say in unison.

He clears his throat and offers you a cordial nod. “I wasn’t aware someone had already claimed this corner.”

You eye him carefully. He looks familiar. Glasses. Silvery-grey hair. Blue eyes. Where have you seen him before?

“It’s all yours. I was just leaving.” You move to stand, but he steps closer.

He peers at the open textbook lying in front of you. A smile you can’t quite classify as friendly spreads on his lips. “Is that so? You seem especially engrossed in this book.”

“I like to stay educated.”

I genuinely can’t understand a word in this text.

“On the anatomy of merfolk?”

You shut your mouth at once. That’s what this is? No wonder the diagrams looked…unique. But you’re too committed to your story to falter now.

“Especially the anatomy of merfolk.”

The student chuckles, but it sounds hollow to your ears. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you before. You’re in Octavinelle?”

You gape at him like a fish out of water before realizing the jumpsuit and its patch. “Oh! Ohhh, no, not at all. This is an old uniform.”

He looks at you with more scrutiny until it clicks. “I remember now. You’re the magicless girl who so carelessly interrupted—ah, forgive me—fortuitously appeared during the entrance ceremony last month.”

What a little fake. You narrow your eyes at him, suddenly defensive. Now you’re made aware of who he is. He was one of the few in the audience during your awkward arrival. Back then, he was clad in a robe with his hood up and so you only caught sight of his glasses and the swoop of his silvery-grey hair peeking out. You’re certain this is the same guy. You could’ve said that without the backhanded barb.

“So my reputation precedes me.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I disagree. You’re still quite the mystery.”

“Well, there’s nothing to solve.” You rise from your seat, reaching for your bag. “I’m just a janitor trying to get by.”

He hums. You can’t decipher the meaning in that, but you don’t particularly care enough to drive yourself mad over it. You feel around on the chair for Grim. He was just here a moment ago…

You drop to your knees to check under the table. Your heart plummets into your stomach.

Grim, you had one job!

“Is something the matter?”

You pop up from beneath the table so fast that your head knocks into it. “Shit! Ow! Yeah, no, I’m fine. I thought I dropped my pencil.”

You scan the rest of the space as discreetly as you can. The student watches you. You don’t like the way he seems to stare through you as if intending to gain access to your very soul. As if he sees something you don’t.

“Have a wonderful day. Study hard. Pass your tests. Get—uh—the scholarship or whatever.” 

Flashing him your most nonchalant grin, you make your way down the aisle at a pace that is the exact opposite of relaxed. There’s no time to dwell on that off-kilter exchange. You’ve got a runaway cat-creature in dire need of capture!

The one day I take off and it’s the day my window’s ruined, I get a weird letter, and my new roommate is missing. That’s horrible luck!

You walk briskly through the library, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Grim couldn’t have gotten far. You were only distracted for a few minutes, and the library is huge. Perhaps he’s just lost and waiting in place for you to find him. For some reason you can’t fool yourself into believing this train of thought.

Your search takes you out of the library and down the hall. Where could he have possibly gone? Surely he didn’t make his way back to Ramshackle. You check the time on your watch. It’s almost lunch.

Lunch! Of course!

You hurry towards the cafeteria with rekindled purpose.

I’m going to start calling him Gluttonous Mage Grim if he makes this a habit!

Fortunately, Grim is predictable. You’ve only known him for a day—not even—but it’s not so difficult to pinpoint his location after you’ve worked out his motivations. Unfortunately, you make it to the cafeteria just as the grand chandelier falls from its support in the ceiling, crash-landing in a broken heap. And standing just feet away from the damage, looking very guilty, is Grim alongside two students you’ve never seen before. Crowley’s there as well, just as frazzled as the feathers on his coat. He’s in the middle of lecturing them about the importance of this relic—how it’s been with the school since it was founded and it’s an irreplaceable piece that would cost over a billion Madol to fix—when he takes notice of you.

“(Name), it’s devastating! A most heart-wrenching tragedy! Why, it’s enough to bring one to tears.”

“Seems so…” You shoot Grim a vicious look. So much for being covert. Not so stealthy now, huh? “I’ll get the broom.”

“No, not yet. These three—” he turns towards them, yellow eyes fierce— “are expelled!”

“Expelled?!” the navy-haired student exclaims. He looks like he’s just stared Death in the face. “This can’t be… What will my mother think? I promised her I was gonna get good grades, attend all of my classes, pass my tests…”

“Hey, it’s not my fault. That hairball’s the one who started it!” the other argues, his arms folded over his chest.

“No way! It wasn’t me!”

Crowley clicks his tongue. “Unbelievable. This school has zero tolerance for blatant tomfoolery. Surely you’re all aware…” He pauses to look at Grim. “And you! You’re not even a student here! Just what are you doing, trespassing on school property?”

Grim flounders dizzily. “Spinning…”

“He’s my roommate.” All eyes flick towards you. “I’m letting him stay for now. Sorry if that breaks any rules. I just don’t believe in turning others away, even if they’re prone to causing trouble.”

“What a noble soul,” Crowley murmurs, impressed. “Well, if that’s the case, seeing as he’s nothing more than a talking pet cat—”

“I ain’t a pet or a cat!”

“I’m afraid my previous statement still remains in place. He’s not to be on school grounds.”

“You heard the Headmage. No school for you.”

But Grim’s already lying flat on the floor like a defeated pancake.

“Then what about us? That hairball can’t get the easy way out and leave us with the worst of it!”

“There’s a way to fix this, isn’t there?”

“Y-Yeah! Can’t you just use magic to fix it right up? It’ll be good as new. Someone with your skill should be able to do it.”

Crowley shakes his head, mournful. “Magic is not limitless. Not only that, but the magestone powering this great chandelier is cracked. And those are not so easily replaced. I fear this is the final day this miraculous chandelier will ever grace this grand hall with its light.”

The ginger-haired student grimaces. “Not good…”

The other withers. “Expelled… What am I going to do? I can’t go back home with this news!”

A magestone… That’s what Grim needs. You glance at the one set into the chandelier. A ghastly crack runs up the surface. Are they really that special?

Before both can succumb to their melancholy, Crowley says, “There is one way! Possibly…”

“Really? What is it?” they say at once, eyes bulging with hope.

“This very magestone was mined from the Dwarfs’ Mine. Perhaps, should you procure one of similar qualities, the chandelier can be repaired.”

“Then… Okay! I’ll get a magestone! As long as it’s all right with you, sir.”

“Ah, but the mines have been closed for some time. I reckon the magestones are all but gone.”

“I’m sure I can find one. Please, sir, I’ll do anything to stay here!”

Crowley seems to consider this. Eventually, he nods his approval. “I’m willing to postpone your expulsion for now.” The navy-haired student’s relief is short-lived when he adds, “However, if you fail to bring a magestone to me by the first rays of the morning sun, it will be expulsion for the both of you. No further exceptions.”

With a hasty nod, he says, “Of course! I understand! Thank you so much for the second chance. I won’t let you down!”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s get this over with.”

You gather an unconscious Grim in your arms while Crowley instructs the students on how to access the mine. They stride off with different degrees of enthusiasm. You open your mouth to ask permission, but Crowley beats you to it.

“Please do accompany them. I trust you’re responsible enough to handle any trouble?”

“If you raise my pay, I’ll do anything.”

He clutches his chest. “Your proclivity to bargain strikes through to my very soul! Ah, but since I am the kindest Headmage I shall grant your request.”

With a satisfied grin, you hold Grim tighter and run off after the pair. “Thanks again, Headmage!”

You follow them all the way to the Mirror Chamber. It’s just as imposing as you recall, but there’s a serene quality to the space that wasn’t there before. Maybe it’s because you’re here willingly and there isn’t an audience to witness your poorly timed debut.

You approach both of them. “Hey! Sorry to bother, but could I join you?”

They turn to look at you. Grim shifts in your arms, groaning.

“I don’t see why not. Welcome to the team,” the navy-haired student says with an awkward smile.

“Might as well. More people means a faster chance at finding that magestone.” He points at Grim next. “And he better be coming, too.”

“That’s the plan. I’ll make sure he won’t cause any problems for you.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Today’s just not my day. What bad luck…”

“No time to sulk. We’ve gotta get that magestone,” the other says, turning towards the mirror. “Dark Mirror, the Dwarfs’ Mine!”

Grim jerks awake then. “Myaah?! Where am I? What’s goin’ on?”

You hold onto him tightly, preventing him from squirming out of your arms. “Relax. You’ll be fine. I think.”

“What d’ya mean by that?!”

The Dark Mirror brightens with life. There’s a blinding flash of light and then, just like that, you’re taken to the mine’s entrance.

Magestone, here we come!

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Vaggie Redesign! (1/7)

Welcome to my new quest of redesigning the entire main 7 Hazbin cast! First on the chopping block is Vaggie who I will be addressing as Evangeline/Van for the rest of this post.

I’ve designed a good 100+ characters in my lifetime so I think I can manage a decent moth lady.

First thing, she was supposed to be a moth. Why not keep her as a moth. Vivziepop is a coward. Second but much more important, she is not grey anymore!!!!! All colours I used were picked from this wonderful little Gaudy Sphinx moth so everyone thank you Gaudy Sphinx moth!

For her scars, she didn’t have nearly enough to begin with. What even is this.

She deserves som recognition for yknow. Killing people. And yes I know she has that whole thing where she thought Angel’s couldn’t be injured but these are from Lute when her eye got ripped out so! Checkmate. The X is supposed to resemble Lute marking her for death so sinners could notice it and then probably torture Van because betrayal yknow. The scar colours and placement on her neck are supposed to resemble angel blood and also the swoopy things exorcists have on their necks but imagine they got more like. Burnt into her skin. Also it’s not immediately recognizable as angel marks cause theyre moth colours anyway!

Her hair looking like wings was a cool idea though I’ll give them that. Obviously she can’t fly with her hair but it’s the silhouette that counts. Oh and her short hair was cuter so I just mixed them

Also her colours were ugly!! I love myself a good black and red—i mean who doesn’t—but we know of hazbins little addiction to that colour palette and why would I use just black and red when I can divulge into insanity and refrence @bluehazardanonymous’s colour wheel again!!!!!!!!

YAAAAAYYY!!!!!! I think the greenish red suits her a lot with her protective nature and honestly probably a little bit of envy from heaven stuff. Justified of course because genuine why is heaven like that. Also the reds are definitely red but theyre a little subdued so she doesn’t come off as incredibly angry and all that. Plus red can look very elegant and I think she deserves that. As for her dress I tried to keep it inspired based off the traditional dress of El Salvador while still using colours picked from the moth.

I also really wanted to include the lace from these dresses because it is genuinely beautiful but unfortunately my lace pattern was too big and got smushed when I tried to use it so the most I can do is show it of separately😞

The blue also is a much cooler colour of course so it gives that little bit of approachability to her character. I am latino and I think I can safely say for every other latino/latina person the spicy latino character archetype is stupid and she needs more depth than that. Give us more Charlie and Van being sweet and having Charlie pull her weight instead of just standing off to the side crying all the time.

Hopefully you all enjoy the new design, I am working on a certain ssomebody next 🐍 and I intend to get it out soon (hopefully)

I am not Salvadoran and I am not super familiar with the culture there so if I messed up anything with her dress and whatnot please don’t be afraid to call me out on it so I can improve in the future. Thank you!