#title and pose is a reference to something

[false-siffrin]

been a long road to follow, been there and gone tomorrow, without saying goodbye to yesterday…..

[leapdayowo]

Y’all I have 31 pages (probably 50 individual sketches) all for jrwi riptide. The minute I have time to properly paint them it’s OVER okay. This podcast had such a visceral grip on my mind. There will be fluff. there will be laughs. there will be angst. The only thing stopping me is the FRICKIN LINE ART and my school obligations…

anyway yeah that’s an update from me

[ssa-dado]

30 Seconds

triathlon!Aaron Hotchner x fleabag!reader Genre: SMUT, pre-relationship mutual pining and just a touch of ♫ LOATHING, UNADULTERATED LOATHING ♫ Summary: You text the hot swim dad for legal help. He shows up in khakis. You try to behave. You fail. He's accidentally jealous of your date, you accidentally grind on his lap, he finishes in his pants, and somehow it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to you. Warnings: SMUT MDNI (heavy makeout, dry humping and *sighs* Aaron creams his pants for just that... the title is descriptive enough), age gap, cuss words, hint of the vile act of female masturbation *pearl clutch*, objectification of the Hotchner body Word Count: 4.9k (damn gurl) Dado's Corner: Based on this request! And... um... full disclosure... I added the glasses part solely because of the cat pic sent by @hotchology, who said this ginger furball is how they imagine Hotch in glasses (LOOK HOW CUUUTE)

masterlist(s)

Everything showers.

A sacred rite of modern womanhood.

Takes minimum two geological eras to complete, consumes half the planet’s fresh water, and must be repeated often to remain an eligible mating partner.

Because that’s the whole point of being a woman, isn’t it? To be clean, hairless, glowing, and vaguely vanilla-scented - just fuckable enough for men who think 3-in-1 shampoo counts as skincare.

The concept of an everything shower is… layered. Part hygiene. Part penance. Part psychological rebirth. A full-body cleanse for the sins you haven’t committed yet.

You’ve done them before first dates. Before almost-dates. Before parties, dick appointments, emotional breakdowns, and that one Tuesday when you just needed to check in on her-

(Her. Down there.)

Once, you even did one before visiting your mother. (Unclear whether that was for survival or atonement. Maybe both.)

But never - not even in your darkest, most masochistic imagination - did you think you’d be doing one because of an eviction notice.

Not until today.

Because Aaron Hotchner - a man who should be both physically and emotionally unavailable due to his very, very, veeeery important job saving the world - is apparently not unavailable.

Not when it matters.

Not when it’s least convenient for your nervous system.

…The irony.

All it took was one stupid text. A momentary lapse in dignity. Something he’d probably refer to as “compromised judgment.”

do you happen to know a very cheap lawyer asking for a friend

And instead of his usual three-to-five-business-days reply time, he hits you with:

aaron hotchner (work, no nudes): Are you at home now? – A.H.

And now you’re just a bit overthinking… because how does he know that?

Did the FBI install a secret camera in your pothos plant? Does he have access to some satellite heat map of your apartment? Has he been watching your window? A camera in the air vent?

(Has he seen you trying out that new clear dildo in front of the mirror for “science”?)

(The one time you tried doing yoga and got stuck in child's pose for 40 minutes?)

You don’t know. You don’t want to know.

All you do know is that you are currently fully naked, shaving for a man who:

Has no idea he’s being shaved for, while you’re on speakerphone with him, as he gets closer and closer to your building block because he invited himself into your private space and-

Would absolutely turn around and disappear if he ever caught even a hint of cucumber-scented shaving cream (you borrowed from your roommate) and realized you'd… prepared for him.

Because your “just in case” implies premeditation. And premeditation implies intention. And intention? Intention is basically foreplay.

And foreplay is strictly prohibited outside the sanctity of marriage, a psychological clearance form, and at least three signed affidavits from HR.

He would enter WITSEC on the spot. Change his name. Grow a beard.

(Hot.)

“What’s happening? Are you alright?”

He concernedly asks over the phone - totally unaware (definitely unaware) that every time he checks in on you, he’s poking your very well-buried, very latent daddy issues with a stick.

(Or maybe he keeps asking because he’s the one with daddy issues. Very obvious ones. That classic parented-child energy. Raised himself on black coffee, moral obligation and emotional regret.)

What a match, really. You get off on being cared for, and he gets off on taking care of people he’ll never emotionally open up to.

Soulmates.

Anyway-

“So… my landlord is an asshole and I really hope he gets some very painful hemor-”

Mr. FBI has the audacity to call you by your full legal name before cutting you off with, “This call is being recorded. I’d appreciate it if you refrained from making…” he even pauses, searching for the most delicate phrasing. Because God forbid he doesn’t sound like a morally burdened Disney princess. “explicit threats.”

Oh, you’d appreciate a few things too. Like having his actual number and not the one issued by the United States Government - so you wouldn’t have to worry about scandalizing some poor technical analyst who’ll be forced to transcribe this call word-for-word the second they find his body in a ditch and trace it back to you.

(“Exhibit B: She said, quote, ‘I hope he gets some very painful hemor.’”)

…But you’re not as childish as him to complain about that.

“My bad.”

“It’s alright.” (Can he please stop talking like this?)

“Yeah… I-” Your voice trips. Your face is hot. Your entire body is hotter. “The thing is-”

“I’m listening.” Oh, fuck him. (Please.)

“In short: the building’s falling apart. We’ve been emailing the guy for weeks, complaining, begging, threatening – nicely - and either he forgets to reply or says he’ll fix it and then doesn’t. It’s been an eternity and he still hasn’t done a single fuc-”

Recorded line. Recorded line. God forbid the man has a seizure because of you. “-thing.”

You hear a chuckle on the other end.

You hate phone calls.

You’d choke him if he weren’t safely boxed inside a moving vehicle.

“I said threats. You can curse. I’m not ten.” Oh, he’s smiling. You can hear it. The smug bastard.

“Oh, that I noticed.”

You love phone calls.

If he were here, he would've already hit you with one of those signature stares - intended to intimidate, but really just making you want to lick the corner of his mouth out of pure spite.

But look at you. Free. Untouchable. Doing amazing.

“The thing is, I didn’t pay rent this month. Because they’re still ignoring the repairs. And now they’re threatening to evict me if I don’t pay.”

“That’s retaliatory. It’s illegal.”

“Wait… you’re telling me I’m not screwed?”

“No, they are. You withheld payment due to unaddressed health and safety violations. That’s protected under landlord-tenant statutes,” he says, suddenly shifting into full legalese, something-something code 572, subsection blah-blah, tenant rights, lease clauses-

You don’t hear any of it. Actually, the very second he started speaking fluent Law Daddy, , your brain slammed the emergency brake to focus on the real crisis:

What the fuck are you going to wear.

“Document everything-“

Lace? Bold choice, but post-shave? Masochism. Granny cotton briefs? He’ll never look at you again.

“Photos.”

Tight top, no bra? Risky.

What if he hugs you and feels how obnoxiously hard your nipples are?

(He’s not a hugger. He doesn’t seem like a hugger. Right?)

(Right??)

(But what if he is today?)

(What if he walks in, sees you - top clinging, no heating - and suddenly decides: You know what? Now’s the time. Now’s the moment I become a hugger. Just for her. Just this once. Just to pull her in close, pretend it’s chaste, press his palm between her shoulder blades and - oh fuck - realize it’s not.)

(What if he hugs you and feels it?)

(What if he hugs you and keeps hugging you?)

(What if he grips tighter, his hand slides just a little lower, and his voice does too, right by your ear - “You’re not wearing a bra.”)

(“Neither are you, sir.”)

(And what if that hug turns into a grind, into his thigh between your legs, into lift me onto the kitchen counter and show me what else you know about tenancy law.)

“Emails.”

Loose top, skimpy bottoms? Slutty. Strategic. Respectable slutty. He’d stare at your legs all night.

(He wouldn’t. But you’d know. Which is worse.)

You should lather in coconut oil, just in case.

You should lather in coconut oil anyway – hydration is important to avoid ingrowns (and yes, to smell edible too.)

“Timestamps.”

Tight top, no bra, skimpy bottoms? Too much? Too “I can’t pay the plumber, but maybe I can offer something else...”

(Not that you’ve watched those. Obviously. You’re just… aware of the trope.)

(Not because you spent 30 minutes the other night trying to find the perfect one. And then another 10 skipping the plot because it was too unrealistic, there’s no way the plumber just happens to have lube.)

(Not that you wouldn’t do it for him. But you’re also not going to lower yourself to being a badly lit, lazily scripted fantasy for the male gaze.)

“…If you haven’t already, I’d recommend drafting a written complaint.”

“…Aaron, I don’t even know where to start,” you mutter. “That’s why I asked if you knew a very cheap lawyer.”

“I’m the very cheap lawyer.” For some reason he chuckles, probably it’s because of his own joke, “Don’t worry, we’ll do it together, I’ll be there in fifteen.”

He is not there in fifteen.

He’s “there” after fourty-eight minutes - flustered, apologizing, muttering something about I-395 and a jackknifed delivery truck, which is just adorable, really, coming from a man who’s clearly never taken the bus in heels while bleeding through his jeans, juggling three leaking Trader Joe’s bags, and re-evaluating every life decision since birth.

He’s grumbling about “infrastructure,” all furrowed brows and moral outrage. How sweet.

You, meanwhile, are Frenching the entire Department of Transportation.

You are giving gridlock the kind of wet, eye-contact blowjob that wins awards - because, for once in your adult life, the universe delayed a man just long enough for you to become a person.

Thirty-eight glorious minutes to shave, moisturize, hide the evidence of your emotional instability, light a candle, panic about the candle (too much?), blow it out, light it again (fuck it), rearrange your throw pillows, Febreze your loveseat, and clean your floors so well you briefly consider serving dinner off them - or yourself.

(Also enough time to change outfits four times, reject each one violently, and land on something that screams “Oh, this? Just threw it on,” while whispering: “I shaved everything.”)

You’ve never been more grateful for civic failure.

You look good. Your apartment looks good. You know it smells amazing in here. You know it. You can feel the Pine-Sol particles sparkling off the hardwood.

Any second now, he’s going to say something about it.

He’s going to inhale – deeply - and ask what detergent you use. Compliment your lavender baseboards.

You can feel it coming. You’re ready. You smile. You bask.

Aaron sets down his bag. Unclips it. Opens it. Looks up.

“I printed out the tenancy statutes,” he says, already pulling out an aggressively highlighted stack of documents from the briefcase.

And this would be impressive - should be impressive - if he weren’t wearing a plain black T-shirt that is doing things to his arms. And the khakis. Fucking khakis.

The most indecently decent pants in the entire male wardrobe.

They whisper "suburban dad," but scream "accidental bulge in soft daylight."

Speaking of which, unfortunately, your apartment lighting has never worked harder - midday golden-hour haze bouncing off every freshly scrubbed surface, casting soft shadows and sensual gleam until finally it settles on The Situation.

…Shit.

(Do not look at it.)

(Do not acknowledge it.)

(Do not mentally calculate whether that’s just the way his pants fold or if that’s his dick pressed against the zipper like it also has a clause to deliver.)

(Do notice, however, that he still hasn’t said a single word about how nice your apartment looks. Rude.)

“I flagged the key violations and I added notes on a recent amendment that strengthens your case - you can reference it in your response letter.” His eyes scan the room clearing it for hostiles - except all he really sees is your loveseat. Small. Soft. Close.

And you, in a tank top.

He clears his throat. Adjusts the folder. His gaze flicks back to you – quick, sharp, and immediately redirected to something safer, like the floor.

“Where… should we get set up?” he asks, like he hasn’t already mentally measured the loveseat twice, logged its exact dimensions in his brain, and is currently laser-eyeing the very cushion he’s dying – dreading - to sit on.

“Oh, I don’t know… wherever you’re comfortable.”

He nods - just a touch too seriously - then hesitates. Again. Checks one more time, with those painfully polite eyes: Can I...? Is it alright if...?

(…As if you might suddenly revoke loveseat privileges.)

Then, slowly, he lowers himself onto the cushion. Perches. Occupies the absolute minimum amount of space humanly possible.

If he still had the joint mobility of his youth, you’re convinced he’d just origami himself into a respectful little one-inch cube and tuck into the far corner.

You glance at his shoulders - very broad, deliciously broad, yes - tense, but more at how hard he’s trying not to brush them against yours. What a funny man.

Especially funny because while he's typing up your official letter - like a good little lawyer - he's also letting the conversation drift into a completely unrelated side street.

Unrelated except for the fact that it's all about you.

Like how he “casually” mentions he hasn’t seen you at the pool lately.

The one where he trains and you sit in a cracked plastic cafeteria chair pretending to wait for your friend’s aquatic therapy - when really, you’re mourning every second you’re not legally tethered to the hot dad at swim practice. The hot dad who doesn’t even know he’s the hot dad. (Him. Obviously.)

You go for your friend. Technically.

Spoiler: she’s got two weeks left.

Which means once her sessions are over, you and Aaron will have absolutely no logical reason to ever speak again. No built-in excuse. No default setting.

And now there’s a looming, mutual thing neither of you are acknowledging.

You’re sure there’s a term for this. Something about large mammals afraid of mice and metaphor.

“Yeah, I was in the lane next to your friend’s the other day…” he starts.

“Really?” You pretend you didn’t get fourteen missed calls from said friend, who - when you finally called her back - didn’t even say hi. Just launched straight into: “Burgundy swim cap guy looked up at your seat three times. Three. He looked so sad you weren’t there I had to explain where you were so he wouldn’t drown in longing.”

“Yes… we talked for a bit. She seems very nice…”

Ah.

Interesting choice of words, considering she told you – verbatim - “I can’t believe someone built like a brick shithouse could be that pathetic.”

(She has yet to understand that that is the whole appeal. Him. And that exact contradiction. Him and that-)

“So… how did… your date go?” he asks, pretending to be casual. He’s polishing his glasses against the hem of his shirt, even though they’re already spotless. (You weren’t even aware he needed glasses. Probably neither is the rest of the planet.)

He keeps at it. Rubs one lens. Then the other. Then back again.

You wonder if he’s trying to distract himself. From the question. From the answer.

Your date.

The one that made you miss your friend's call. The one you actually went on. The one that-

“It went well, actually.” It did. Way too well. And that’s the problem.

Because you keep chasing Aaron.

Despite the very obvious fact that nothing will ever happen between you. Because he’s… well, him. And you’re…

A little too young. A little too broke. A little too you.

(And technically if you do the math, you’re closer to his son’s age than his. Just by a few years, sure, but still. Still enough to justify it to yourself out loud, then say it again. And again. Until it starts sounding like a fact.)

It’s just a harmless crush. A stupid little thing. A flicker. A fantasy. A hobby, really.

You have so many of those - men. Smart, emotionally unavailable, vaguely haunted. You collect them like parking tickets: Useless. Repetitive. Always showing up when you least need them. But you keep them. Stack them in a drawer somewhere in your head.

Just in case.

Still, there’s something about this one.

About him.

Aaron.

Aaron in wireframe glasses, almost making you believe in the higher powers he believes in too. (Hopefully not the United States government.)

Aaron with that voice, that jaw, that posture.

Aaron, who says things like “landlord-tenant statute” and somehow makes it sound better than the poetry in those overpriced, niche little books you only buy for the cover, the ones where the author hits enter every four words so it tricks you into thinking they mean something.

And maybe – deep, deep down – it’s because you want to be proven wrong. That someone like him could find goodness in parts of you you’ve already declared a lost cause. That he could look at all the rot and still see something worth saving. Or maybe it’s just easier. Easier to chase something you’ll never catch than turn around and face the things already standing still, arms open, waiting to love you back.

“I’m glad to hear that,” says Deliciously Four-Eyed Aaron, just a little too tight. Tighter than his khakis, which shift and pull every time he readjusts to keep from getting a flat ass on your loveseat.

(What’s wrong, Agent Hotchner? Not expecting it to actually go well? God, you hope that’s why his jaw looks like it’s about to file for divorce from the rest of his face.)

“I don’t know him well,” he adds, clinically. “But… he seems like a nice guy. He’s good at his job.”

Right. Which is rich, coming from the man who literally handed you the guy’s number. And now he’s playing coy?

So what was that, then? A random act of kindness? A stroke of pity? Was it projection? Was it a fever dream?

Did he just reach into the FBI rolodex and go: “Hmm. You’re not under disciplinary review, you own slacks, and your blood pressure is normal. Here, date this emotionally volatile woman I know and I think you might like - she has opinions and abandonment issues, enjoy!

Because Aaron doesn’t do spontaneous. Aaron does strategic. Aaron does 48-hour surveillance and triple-signed documents.

He’s not the guy who improvises. He’s the guy who rehearses his improvisation.

So forgive you if you’re just a little confused by Mr. Times New Roman over here, trying to mentally trace the logic that gets you from “I barely know him” to “you should definitely let him finger you. Only after marriage, though.”

It’s weird. And yet, somehow, that’s not even the most annoying part.

“Good at his job?” you echo, with a laugh that sounds way too close to a cry for help. (Of course. Of course that’s Special Supervising Whatever-the-Fuck Hotchner’s metric for male compatibility. Not empathy. Not emotional availability. Not even basic social literacy. No, job performance. What a catch.) “What are you going to say next, that he’s a good person because he clocks in early and doesn’t steal breakroom coffee?”

“Well,” he says, adjusting his glasses that did not need adjusting, “I can’t vouch for the coffee. But I do see him arrive on time. From my office. If that’s what’s concerning you.”

…Oh. So that’s what this is. We’re flexing now.

Mr. I Have A Window. Mr. I Oversee The Peasants. Mr. Private Office While Everyone Else Plays Hot-Desk Musical Chairs. Mr. Title, Tenure, and a Chair That Supports Both His Spine and His Reluctance to Feel. Mr. I Deserve This Square Footage Because I Ruined My Marriage for the Federal Government.

(You could go on. And on. And on. You won’t. But you could.)

And it’s not even clear who he’s trying to one-up here. The guy he set you up with? Or… you? Both?

Like, “Yes, he’s punctual. Yes, he’s nice. Yes, he’s good at his job. But I define what good is. I’m his boss. Be impressed by me instead. Please. I beg you.”

Okay. Breathe. Relax.

No one invited him to a pissing contest and yet here he is, unzipping his intellectual fly right in the middle of your living room. (Not the fly you wanted unzipped, unfortunately.)

You squint at him. “So what, you show up before everyone else just to watch your little ducklings waddle in behind you? Mother Goose clocking in before sunrise to lead by example and assert dominance?”

He turns toward you. Tilts his head. Makes that face. The one you’ve been craving since the second he walked in.

Eyebrows drawn, mouth slightly open - just enough to spot that one crooked tooth, bless it - an expression that says concerned, confused, and disappointed in your tone, all in one.

“It’s none of that,” he’s dead serious, even if he’s visibly smiling… marvelous. “It’s just respectful to be on time.”

Sure, Agent Hotchner. Tell yourself that while polishing your Employee of the Decade plaque.

“I barely even see my boss at the café. Twice a week, tops. And only after we open.”

Aaron lifts his eyebrows. Shrugs. “I’m not an asshole.”

Then he goes back to typing, pretending he’s not biting the inside of his cheek like the whole thing didn’t get to him.

Like he’s completely unbothered by the idea of some man buying you coffee and making you laugh for two full hours.

Like his knuckles aren’t just a little too tight around that trackpad.

“You know, for someone who just said he’s not an asshole, you sure spend a lot of time trying to prove how much better you are than other men.”

“I’m not trying to prove anything,” he says, softly. Too softly. Like he knows volume would give him away.

And fuck, those eyes.

You can’t look at them too long. You bounce between his face and anything else - your coffee table, the printout, his lap (unfortunately) - because those glasses are giving him four eyes now, and all of them are aimed at your skull, dissecting every micro-expression.

He's a bit suffocating.

“I think what really bothers you,” he says, measured, "is that you’re used to being misread."

You scoff. “Excuse me?” (Bitch.)

"You act like you want to be chased, but only if it feels reluctant. If it's earned. You push people to see if they’ll push back. You turn it into a game because it’s safer that way. If it’s a game, you can pretend you were never serious when they walk away."

Well. Okay. First of all: Rude.

Second of all: Accurate. Horribly accurate.

But also: How dare he.

"And if they don't... if they try to meet you where you are... you push them away first. Just to prove you were right to be afraid" he says - and the bastard even smiles. (Fuck his dimples. Really. Pretentious as hell.) "You punish them for it… and you punish the ones who don’t play, too. Because deep down, you still don’t know which would hurt more."

"Wow," you never thought you'd actually be speechless, and yet - here you are, scrambling for a comeback. Great. "Good thing you said you weren’t trying to prove anything. Otherwise I might’ve gotten confused and assumed you were just showing off." (Good enough. You’ll take it.)

Smarty-pants chuckles under his breath then leans back against your very professional, very structurally unsound loveseat. His knee brushes yours.

You pretend not to notice. He pretends he doesn’t notice you noticing.

"Not showing off, just telling you what you already know."

"Oh, right, because you’re such an expert on me."

"I’m just observant."

"And arrogant." And a fucking hypocrite too.

"And you still looked at my mouth twice." What a who-

Somewhere between your brain screaming full bitch slap, full bitch slap and your hand almost twitching to deliver it… you miscalculate.

You lean in. And instead of bruising his cheekbone, you crash your mouth against his.

Pride - and the stack of feminist books judging you from the bookshelf - insist it’s you who moves first. You believe them. You have to.

Even though his hands are already there - rough and steady, drowning your face in their grip - before you even finish breathing in your half-ounce of courage. Before you really even choose anything at all.

(But sure. Go ahead. Call it empowerment. You’re totally running the show. Girlboss shit.)

You want to bite him. Sink your teeth into that smug, diagnosing mouth. Split his lip. Make him bleed all over the living room he still hasn’t bothered to compliment the smell of. (You’re not petty about it… it’s just an observation.)

But it’s slower instead.

You taste his nerve first, his fear right after.

He’s already halfway to pulling back even as he keeps kissing you - trying to have it both ways - and for a second, you do break apart.

Both pretending you could still undo this. (And also undo all the bullshit he said earlier, profiling you so hard he didn’t even realize he was accidentally outing himself too.)

It doesn’t last.

You crash back into him, sloppier, mouths dragging, missing, gasping, half-kissing, half-clawing at each other as you’re both a little too desperate to land properly.

For a split second, the kiss turns... almost sweet. Tender. Romantic, even.

You could say he’s a good kisser.

You could say he’s a great kisser.

You could say he’s the only man alive who could kiss you stupid and still find a way to remind you to breathe through your nose.

(Like when he notices you getting lightheaded and somehow fixes it without even pulling away... which, not gonna lie, is a little humbling.)

But there’s no time for critical analysis. You’re already shoving him flat onto the loveseat, pinning him down, while he blinks up at you - wide-eyed, flushed, so beautiful it makes your chest hurt.

(And he looks so... concerned. As if he’s realizing just now that there’s absolutely no dignified way to get out of this alive.)

(Good. He shouldn’t.)

There’s tongue.

There’s teeth.

There’s his hands – everywhere - gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt, squeezing the backs of your thighs, pushing your leg higher over him until you can feel - Oh. Oh, he’s hard. He’s so fucking hard.

There’s a muffled noise from the back of his throat that sounds suspiciously like please and you are not thinking about that right now.

And it’s-

God.

It’s filthy. It’s great.

You grind down hard, whimpering shamelessly into his mouth, and he bucks up into you, meeting you halfway with both hands locked around your ass, squeezing so rough you’ll be wearing fingerprints by tomorrow.

(You hope so.)

(You really fucking hope so.)

He helps you move –

Up.

Down.

Slower.

Harder.

Guiding your hips with just enough pressure to make it feel like it’s your idea, finding the rhythm you didn’t know you needed until he gives it to you, forcing you to ride the thick, hard shape straining against his pants-

Just the right angle. Just the right friction.

So perfect it catches your clit every single time, knocks a gasp right out of your throat, straight into his mouth.

You’re soaking through your panties. You’re shaking with it. And it clearly gets to him - God, it wrecks him.

You can feel it - the way he tenses under you, the way his hands clutch harder at your ass, the way his cock throbs against you through the fabric like he’s just barely holding on.

He bites down on your bottom lip, rougher than you expect. Too rough for a man who apologizes when he says fuck.

He holds it between his teeth, sucks it – hard - humming low and filthy against your mouth, so obscene it makes your hips stutter.

Drop.

Just enough to let your soaked cunt drag across the swollen head of his cock.

And when you grind back, slower, tracing right along the thick ridge straining against his zipper, he chokes on a breath.

“God, fuck-”

It tears out of him, raw, as if he’s almost embarrassed by how much pleasure is tangled in it, by how stupidly sincere it comes out of his mouth.

(Also, thank God he didn’t reverse it. If he’d said “fuck, God,” instead, you’re pretty sure he would’ve stopped everything, dropped to his knees, and asked you to drive him to a confessional. Not even a metaphor - actual church. Actual guilt. Actual “forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”)

He tilts his head back, groaning, neck arching against the pillow - exposed, gorgeous - and you completely lose it.

Your tongue drags over his throat, chasing the pulse hammering under his skin, tracing your way back up to his mouth.

He’s so hot. He’s so good. He’s-

…terrified.

"I'm so sorry," he breathes, suddenly sitting up on his elbows. “I-” 

He fumbles. He panics. He stands. Backs away from the couch. From you. Visibly blushing. Visibly mortified.

“I didn’t mean-“

He doesn’t finish the sentence...

…Because he finished in his pants instead.

Poor thing.

You should be a little cruel about it - he was an asshole earlier, after all - but you’re not quite mean enough to kick a wounded 6’2” puppy when he’s already limping. (No pun intended… or maybe-)

"Hey," you murmur, reaching out, curling your fingers around his wrist so he can’t backpedal any further. He flinches. (Not much. Just enough to make you want to kiss him again. Harder this time. Until he flinches worse.)

"It’s okay. It’s-" You almost say sweet - catch yourself just in time, because you’re not trying to get murdered tonight.

"It’s normal," you settle on instead. "It’s flattering. Honestly.” (Also kind of hot. But you’ll take that particular confession to your grave.) “You didn’t... ruin anything."

He still doesn’t look convinced. At all. In fact, he looks like he might apologize again, maybe even draft a formal statement and notarize it.

You scramble. “It’s not a big deal, seriously. Who cares if it was-” (You hesitate for half a second, fatal mistake.) "-like, 30 seconds? Could've been 29, right?!”

…Right.

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @goorgeousz ; @hayleym1234 ; @ignoreeeeeee ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @littlemisskavities ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mmmunson ; @mxblobby ; @nikt-wazny-y ; @oxforce ; @percysley ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softtdaisy ; @softestqueeen ; @thatkidofwarandpeace ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24 ; @who-needs-to-sleep

(I might've missed someone this time, pls tell me in the comments if your name got lost AAAA sorry in advance)

Little reminder that the requests for fleabag!reader are open!! Ok.. I'll go now. Bye.

[kxsagi]

Hewoo againn (*￣∇￣)ノ

I see that your requests are open today, although I don't know if you'll be able to answer if it's already bombarded (oof)

Butt... Hear me out: Reader trying out new lipstick shades and using their bllk boyfriend's face/skin 👀 as a canvas cause y'know, they wanna see what color looks great against their skin 🤭

Kindly requesting the itoshi brothers, shidou, kaiser, ness kunigami, karasu, gagamaru, and barou (as well as any other boys you'd wanna add <3)

Also, I was the one that sent the request for mmafighter!reader x bllk boys and I loved it! Your writing honestly makes my day and mwah! ( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆💋

I suppose imma just refer to myself as your anonymous 💜 requester (?) (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

“𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬”

a/n: literally just saved a cute pinterest pin of this (it was a sign)

also thank you so so so much! i ADORE your ideas, the mma fighter! reader was so much fun to write mwah mwah mwah 😚💋

also #2: if anyone has lip gloss recs or lip combo recs, PLEASE GIVE IT TO ME 

ft. itoshi rin, itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, kaiser michael, ness alexis, kunigami rensuke, karasu tabito, gagamaru gin, barou shoei, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro

itoshi rin

“why don’t you use your own arm?” 

“because you’re my favorite canvas,” you reply sweetly, already uncapping the first lipstick. 

sits like he’s being punished, arms crossed, refusing to meet your eyes as you start swatching a peachy nude on his cheekbone. 

“stop smiling at me like that.” 

“like what?” you grin, swatching a bright coral on his jaw next. 

turns redder than the lipstick. 

eventually sighs and mutters, “just finish your weird little art project.” 

doesn't say a word when you give him a kiss on the nose with hot pink. 

hours later, you find a selfie on his phone titled: coral test results - looks better on her 🫤. 

itoshi sae

“princesa, that looks expensive. should you be testing it on a civilian?” says that while laying back on the couch like he’s on a spa retreat. 

you straddle his lap with a whole row of lipstick tubes in hand like a scientist in her lab. 

“seriously, i’m not sure your skin’s the right tone to match mine –” 

“oh? and what tone is mine?” he teases. “hot? hotter?” 

lets you swatch shades on his chest, his collarbones, even his lips, but insists on giving feedback like a beauty guru: “this one’s too tragic. this one screams tax season. this one? this one’s me in lipstick form.” 

you: “you’re so full of it.” 

him, with three lip marks on his abs: “full of style.” 

shidou ryusei

“ohh, are we playing makeup? finally.” 

no. he does not follow instructions. 

you’re trying to test out neutral tones and he’s over here demanding you use “something demonic.” 

“make it black. wait. black with glitter. give me devil lips.” 

keeps sticking his tongue out so you accidentally swipe it. 

“oops ~ guess you gotta kiss it better.” 

ends up with full lips, two-tone cheeks, glitter on his neck, and not one regret. 

takes mirror selfies while you’re still testing. sends them to his group chat. caption: my girl turned me into a fineass crayon box. 

doesn’t wipe anything off. goes out to the store like that. 

kaiser michael

you don’t even finish asking. “can i –” 

“yes. of course. i have excellent bone structure for makeup swatches.” 

poses like it’s vogue. tilts his face. offers his abs. 

“this is the most efficient way to test high-pigment color on perfect skin.” 

you: “whose perfect skin?” 

“mine, schatz.” 

makes dramatic gasps for every new shade like, “this one is bold, it screams money,” and “this shade is called kaiser’s girlfriend’s privilege.” 

you try to do a neat row of swatches, but he keeps flexing and distracting you. 

ends up looking like a lipstick picasso. loves it. 

ness alexis

so cooperative it’s suspicious. 

sits on the floor cross-legged while you perch above him on the couch like royalty. 

“mmm, maybe the berry tone next? or the cinnamon glaze one?” 

keeps his eyes wide and still while you apply it, like he’s in a professional makeup studio. 

rates each one like a food critic: “this one feels luxurious. this one? cozy date night in fall.” 

gently reminds you to blot if you forget. offers his arm for leftover swatches. 

tells you which one makes your skin glow the most. 

you end up cuddling with his neck covered in different kiss marks. he’s still smiling like it’s the best day of his life. 

kunigami rensuke

“uh, are you sure this is okay?” 

he looks so concerned, poor guy. 

���yes,” you say, already smearing a nude tone along his jawline. 

he sits like he’s at the dentist – rigid, confused, but obedient. 

“don’t you have, like, swatch paper or something?” 

“shhh. your face is way cuter.” 

blushes so hard he starts sweating. 

you kiss his forehead with a deep red and say, “final test.” 

he almost passes out. 

refuses to wipe it off and goes to the gym with a lipstick heart on his bicep like a love badge. 

karasu tabito

“oh hell yeah. paint me like one of your fancy girls.” 

reclines back dramatically with a throw pillow under his head. 

lets you draw full swatches, then starts naming them stupid things: “this is ‘sexy betrayal.’ this one’s ‘tax evasion.’ this one? ‘midnight scandal’.” 

you: “karasu, these are just pinks.” 

him: “emotional pinks.” 

halfway through he tries to kiss you with four different colors still on him. now you look like a disaster. 

both of you look insane. both of you are in love. 

gagamaru gin

doesn’t move a muscle. sits like a very obedient golden retriever. 

“just tell me where.” 

offers you his neck, shoulders, collarbone, whatever you need. 

every time you say “wow, that shade pops,” he perks up like a puppy being praised. 

tries to help by flexing when you do chest swatches. accidentally makes the lipstick smear. 

“sorry.” 

you giggle and kiss his nose. he doesn’t wipe it off for hours. 

barou shoei

“you’re not touching me with that garbage.” 

okay so you have to coax him into it. 

eventually caves but makes you promise “nothing fruity.” 

you swatch ONE dusty rose on his cheek and he’s like “too fruity. wipe it off.” 

ends up letting you do a whole gradient on his arm instead. 

glares at it the whole time like it offended his bloodline. 

secretly keeps your kiss mark on his jaw and glares at anyone who looks at it too long. 

isagi yoichi

“uhhh i’ve never been used as a color test before, but sure???” 

kind of nervous but excited to help. 

watches every swatch you put on him like it’s a math equation. 

“this one’s warmer… oh, but that one’s more vibrant. maybe good for nighttime lighting?” 

sweetly says “do the thing” and puckers up so you can test one directly with a kiss. 

giggles when you say he looks like a valentine card. 

takes a picture of your arm next to his cheek to compare tones. “science!” 

keeps the one he likes best on until bedtime. 

nagi seishiro

“ugh, do i have to move?” 

lays there like a cat being groomed. 

opens one eye to say “do the purple one” then goes back to half-napping. 

doesn’t react to any of the swatches except to occasionally go “eh. that’s fine.” 

you kiss his collarbone with a bold crimson and he finally reacts: “that one. wear that one forever.” 

goes back to sleep with ten swatches and glitter on his chin. 

you leave a sticky note on his forehead: best canvas award goes to you. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[rosierin]

serving looks and trouble | atsumu, osamu

synopsis; (y/n) works as a barista and the twins decide to pay her a visit. cue the gossip, the questions, and atsumu being atsumu.

a/n; if this isn’t the most “y/n” scenario ever idk what is

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

It started with the jingle of the café door.

Then a pause.

Then a collective gasp from behind the counter.

“Ohmygod,” one of (y/n)’s co-workers whispered, eyes almost bulging out her head. “Who are they?”

Another peeked over her shoulder, milk jug still in hand, jaw slightly slack. “Are they celebrities or something?”

The sound of milk frothing and mugs clinking didn’t stop, but it definitely slowed, as if the entire café had turned its head in unison. Even the indie pop playing overhead felt like it dipped in volume.

(Y/n) was elbow-deep in seasonal syrups and foam art when one of her co-workers eagerly tugged at her sleeve. Thing was, she didn't even bother looking up.

The shift in atmosphere was unmistakable—bolder than the espresso in the air and louder than the hiss of the steamer.

She could recognise those twin sets of footsteps anywhere. Those unhurried, confident steps paired with a presence that filled the room, the kind that stated we’re here without so much as opening their mouths.

Still, she smiled, lighting up at the sight of them as they walked through the door. “Hey, guys.”

Her greeting was met with a pair of lazy waves and even lazier smiles.

Atsumu leaned against the counter first, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, his expression as casual as it was intentional. His eyes found hers instantly—like they always did.

“Afternoon, angel.”

Right behind him, Osamu matched the pose with a quieter presence, one hand in his jacket pocket, the other resting on the edge of the counter. His smile was crooked and warm, but no-less smug.

“How’s our favourite barista?”

(Y/n)’s co-workers—two Uni students and one high schooler doing weekend shifts—were frozen. One of them dropped a spoon with a curse. Another accidentally messed up her latte heart. The third turned away and giggled girlishly into her sleeve.

“Don’t encourage them,” (y/n) muttered, face warming as she wiped her hands on her apron. She gave the twins a weak glare as she walked over, but her voice was far from scolding. “You guys are doing too much.”

Both claimed to have no idea what she was talking about. Merely exchanging a glance before shrugging in almost perfect sync.

Freaky twin telepathy things, she supposed.

"What brings you two foxes here anyway?"

Neither twin flinched at the nickname. She found herself referring to them as such ever since she met them in high school with their cunning minds, sharp tongues and charming faces. In fact, she was pretty sure they enjoyed the shared title, if their award-winning smiles were anything to go by.

She would've rolled her eyes, but Atsumu stepped forward and propped his chin on his hand, watching her with the kind of shameless awe that made her want to melt and throw a towel at him at the same time. “We came for a pick-me-up.”

“And maybe a pastry,” Osamu added, already eyeing the display case. “Whaddaya recommend?”

That earned a muffled squeal from one of her co-workers, who instantly perked up and bounded over to assist him—suddenly very enthusiastic about describing each of the monthly specials in great detail. Osamu listened politely, even throwing in a follow-up question or two, and offering the occasional quiet joke that made the girl giggle, cheeks flushed pink.

(Y/n) shook her head fondly, watching the scene unfold.

Turning up the charm, I see.

She bit back a smile, amused.

She watched them for a heartbeat longer before her gaze naturally drifted to Atsumu, already bracing herself for whatever antics he had planned.

The small sigh she let out was almost instinctual as she asked, “And you—what do you want?”

Atsumu tilted his head, a slow, amused grin pulling at his mouth. “That how ya talk to all yer customers?”

(Y/n) blinked, realizing belatedly that her tone had been a little too dry and quickly plastered on a sunnier smile. “No,” she said sweetly, hoping to cover up her little slip-up. “Just the ones who flirt with staff.”

A brief flicker crossed Atsumu’s face—something entertained and boyish—before a laugh spilled out of him, as bright and easy as the sunlight pouring through the picture window.

“Hey, I barely said anythin’ yet," he held his hands up in mock surrender, the sparkle in his eye unmistakable.

“Yeah, and it’s the yet that’s worrying me," she said, grabbing a pen and paper. "Anywho..." She clicked it once and put on her best customer service voice and smile. “What can I get for ya?"

Atsumu was clearly enjoying their little roleplay, because the grin on his face didn’t waver once. If anything, the glint in his eyes only seemed to brighten, like he was waiting for something she wasn’t quite catching.

When her eyebrows quirked up in question, he merely shrugged, his voice dropping just enough to make it feel oddly intimate. "Alright, alright… I’ll get whatever the pretty barista recommends."

An eyeroll was her only response to his flirting. She began jotting down his order, pretending not to flinch at the heat crawling up her neck.

You'd think she'd be used to it by now, but with her friends-slash-co-workers all hovering nearby—all trying a bit too hard not to listen in on their conversation—it was hard not to feel even the slightest bit flustered at all the compliments and smiles he was tossing her way.

“How do ya know I was talkin’ about you?”

Her hand froze mid-scribble.

"Seriously?"

His attempt at innocence was appalling. Especially with how he was practically soaking up the chorus of giggles her co-workers had the audacity of sparing him. He chuckled along with them, the sound doing little to quell the heat blooming across her features.

“God,” she muttered, swatting at one of the girls who was jokingly fanning herself with a receipt pad.

Atsumu just beamed, looking far too proud of himself.

“Go sit down,” she ordered, jerking her head toward the seating area. When Atsumu didn’t budge, she gave him a gentle shove on the shoulder. “Go on. Shoo.”

“Alright, alright, no need t’ push,” he chuckled, stepping back with that dopey smile of his.

(Y/n) shook her head, but a small laugh escaped before she could stop it. She watched him retreat across the café—bright with sunlight and chatter—to where Osamu was already sitting by the window, peeling the wrapper off a muffin with the look of a man who hadn't eaten in days.

Her co-workers were on her instantly.

As she turned to prep their drinks, they leaned in with laser focus, like they were dissecting a secret romance novel. But (y/n) focused on the task in front of her—anything to ignore the way they were practically vibrating behind her.

Two iced lattes. One with a single pump of vanilla for Osamu—classic, smooth, no fuss. The other with two generous pumps of caramel for Atsumu—of course. She added ice, poured the shots, topped both with cold foam, then reached for the lids.

She was just about to slide them across the counter when a hand grabbed her wrist.

“Conference room,” her co-worker whispered, tugging her into the back prep corner like they were about to discuss classified information.

The three of them circled her like cats cornering a mouse.

“So…” one began, eyes wide and burning with gossip. “Are you gonna tell us who they are, or what?”

(Y/n) felt the weight of the question loom over her. “...Friends?”

“Friends?” another echoed, voice rising an octave. “Plural? Girl, what did you do in a previous life to end up with two friends like that?”

“I—what?” (y/n) spluttered, a laugh threatening to break through. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I mean—no, I do. But it’s chill. We’ve been friends since high school, that’s all. We're pretty close but that's about it."

“Pretty close,” the highschooler probed, narrowing her eyes with a teasing smirk. “How close?”

(Y/n) groaned, but affection tugged at her lips. “Just friendship close—seriously. They look all charming now, but they’re more of a handful than they’re letting on.”

She tilted her head, glancing toward their table. Osamu was holding his muffin just out of Atsumu’s reach, stretching his arm above his head like a protective parent while Atsumu made multiple attempts to steal it, getting kicked in the shin each time. They were already arguing—hands waving, faces animated—even though they hadn’t been in the café ten minutes.

“See?” She gave her coworkers a pointed look.

“Wait,” one of the girls said suddenly. “Are they… single?”

(Y/n) hesitated. “Uh… yeah. They are. But I don’t think either of them are looking for anything right now—”

A round of the most judging, disbelieving glances followed, enough to make (y/n) slightly curl in on herself.

“Whattt? How do you know that?”

“Yeah, (y/n). C’mon, don’t gatekeep.”

“I’m not!” she laughed, exasperated. “But if you’re seriously interested, why don’t you just ask them yourself? I dunno, write your number on their cup or something.”

That sent her co-workers spiralling.

They all started fussing—giggling, whispering, glancing over at the twins’ table a few too many times. The air felt warmer, buzzing with curiosity and far too many hormones.

And as if Atsumu could somehow smell the pheromones from across the café, he rose to his feet and sauntered over.

He plucked up his iced latte with a lazy grin plastered on his face. Then he took one sip and asked to nobody in particular, “What’s all the fuss about? Saw ya glancin' over a coupla time."

One co-worker opened her mouth to speak—then immediately closed it again.

(Y/n) took this as her cue. “Yeah, actually. The girls wanted to know if you were both single.”

A chorus of gasps echoed around the bar.

“(Y/n)!” one of them hissed, scandalized.

She just shrugged and took a sip of her own half-melted iced drink.

Atsumu jerked a thumb at his brother. “He is." He took another long sip of his drink before his eyes flicked back to (y/n), practically gleaming. “I’m not.”

She cocked an eyebrow, arms folding. “Oh, really.”

He didn’t elaborate—not that he needed to. The implication hung in the air like steam from a fresh cappuccino. But just in case it wasn’t painfully obvious, he winked.

She hated the way her heart skipped a beat.

God’s sake.

In front of her co-workers? Seriously?

(Y/n) was about to retort something when Atsumu suddenly turned to leave, Osamu trailing after him with an amused shake of the head.

“Anyway, we’re off," he shot over his shoulder. Osamu lingered at the door, propping it open with his foot as he waved. (Y/n) returned the gesture, head tilting as Atsumu flashed her one last cheeky grin.

"See ya later, babe. Text me when ya come home!"

And with that, they left the store with the same swagger they had entered it with.

Finally, the café could breathe again.

The silence behind the counter, however, was nothing short of deafening.

Well. It was.

Not for long.

"'Babe?'" one of them gawked, holding her hands up like she'd just made a world-shattering discovery. "And hang on a minute—you live with him? I like how you conveniently left that detail out. God, I have so many questions—!”

And in came the flood of inevitable interrogations...

"Wait, so you are dating him, then?” another gasped, leaning dramatically over the counter.

"Be honest," the youngest chimed in, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just blink twice if it’s complicated."

“(Y/n), I can't believe you didn't even TELL us??” the first girl cried, clutching her chest in betrayal.

"Giiiirl—" the second chastised, "you're living the dream for real."

(Y/n) dragged a hand down her face.

“We’re not dating," she insisted. Then, almost completely glossing over the unexpected lore-drop, she added, "We do live together though. His brother too.”

A synchronized gasp.

"Since when?! You never told us that!" one of them demanded, arms thrown wide.

"Since we started Uni! Have I never told you?"

She peeked up sheepishly as the three of them shook their heads, scandalized. Whoops. She could’ve sworn she had.

"Oh—Well, you know how I live with Rin, right?"

This time, they all nodded vigorously.

The youngest, almost reverently, murmured, "Ohmygod, Rintarou Suna, how could I forget?" which earned a laugh from (y/n).

She recalled him being equally as popular among some of her co-workers in the past.

"Yes, Rin—anyway," she continued, gathering what remained of her dignity, "basically we all moved in together during our first year. And… that's it, really. I swear I told you guys."

"You didn't," one said flatly, voice comically grave. "I'd have remembered."

Another leaned her elbows on the counter, flashing her a mischievous grin. "So you're telling me you're living with not one fittie, but three? And two of them are twins?"

(Y/n) tried not to flush at the implication. She shook her head with a huff, flicking a towel at the offender.

"Girl, you must have some fuuun," the high-schooler teased, nudging her with an elbow.

"That's so gross—no chance," (y/n) retorted, shaking her head.

One of them sucked in a breath and let out an almost envious sigh. "You're better than I am..." she said dreamily.

"Pffft," (y/n) snorted, rolling her eyes.

She brushed off her friends' teasing, already expecting as much. But under the mortification, somewhere deep beneath the surface, was a smile she couldn’t quite fight off.

Because maybe Atsumu wasn’t her boyfriend.

But he really liked to act like one.

And maaaybe she didn't actually mind.

[thatspookydude]

Hoping and praying Tumblr doesn't kill the quality

I have had this idea floating in my head ever since I watched ZombieCleo's pov on Witchcraft SMP a year late. I loved the story of the Time Witch and all the references to their other games, series, and timelines from non-story-based servers that Cleo also played on. The grand finale using the in-game resurrection to cure Cleo's zombie-ism and tie together all the timelines was a really neat video segment, and I thought it was a nice end to their series.

I am curious to know how things would have gone if they won the title of Supreme Witch.

This was also a big test in me using different layer effects in Clip Studio Paint since I am always trying to learn how to more effectively use the program. I know the glow isn't perfect, but I still love how it turned out. I had fun looking at different dancer refs for the poses and trying to translate Minecraft skins onto something that's Not Blocks.

In case you're curious how it looks without the overlaying layers, here it is.

forgive me I don't know what all tags to use

[cloverrwritess]

Title: “Toucans”

Spencer Agnew x Fem! Reader

Request: Yes | No

note: I came across a tiktok video on my fyp and it made me inspired to write here on tumblr

here is the link for y'all to see

also thank you so much for the love you guys gave for my first Spencer fic! 🫶🏻

if anyone is confused by the joke, there is an explaination at the end of the story.

warnings: boob joke 🏃‍♀️

MASTERLIST

Another day, another filming day for Board AF video. The theme for today was 1950’s glamour and my costume was a velvet red halter neck dress. I was sitting down on a chair, while some of the crew was doing my makeup and hair for the video.

I was scrolling through instagram when I heard a catcall whistle behind me. Turning my head—I saw Angela wearing a tuxedo with her hair slicked back.

“Damn okay you look good” She said, staring at my whole outfit “That dress was made for you holy shit, I mean that in a platonic way”

“Not bad yourself, Mr. Giarratana” I tipped my imaginary hat to her, laughing.

“Everyone, filming is about to start in 2 minutes let’s go” Emily peeked her head at the divider. “Looking good [name]”

“Stop I can’t handle all these compliments”

I checked my outfit and hair at the big mirror, straightening any wrinkles and fluffing my hair a bit. I pushed the halter dress up to my chest to make sure it was secured well before walking towards the set.

________

“Oh my god look at you Ms. Stunning Model” Courtney clapped, hyping me up.

“You should honestly sign up for a modeling agency babes”

I chuckled “No way, none of the models would get my humor like you guys do, besides smosh is my home”

Shayne, Angela, Spencer, Courtney and I finally settled down and got into character before the cameras started rolling.

________

“My god the photographers couldn’t stop taking pictures of me while I was walking here” I dramatically sighed, while looking at the cards in my hand.

Angela lost the first round and we decided to do another one again.

“Spencer, press the button twice or scream out ‘I love eating ass’ really loud” Laughing at the dare I chose for him.

I turned my attention to him—realizing he wasn’t listening to me. His eyes were focused on something. I followed the direction before noticing he was staring at my chest.

I snapped my fingers to get his attention, He finally snapped out and we made eye contact.

“Hey! my eyes are up here”

“Sorry what did you say? It was something about cans”

This made the other three burst out in laughter, with Shayne holding his stomach and Angela falling from her chair from laughing too hard.

“Stop looking at my toucans sir, that is highly inappropriate” I got into character, yet giggling from getting him caught on camera.

“Sorry sorry, It was staring at me first” He put his arms up in a defeated pose.

“I’ll let you stare at them whenever you want Spencer, just ask”

________

authors note: this story was also inspired by that smosh mouth episode where amanda was wearing a cardigan with toucans (the bird) design and fixed it since the lace of her bra was showing.

since the boobs are also referred to as “cans” so having two makes it “two cans” and it sounds like “toucans”. 🥫

[astonmartinii]

fatherhood looks good on you | george russell social media au

pairing: george russell x fem albon reader

there comes a point in the relationship where you take it to the next level

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 783,409 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: looking so good i want to give you a baby

view all comments

user1: WHAT

user2: we really be saying anything on the internet these days

alexalbon: SHUT THE FUCK UP THE LITERAL ONLY RULE OF THIS RELATIONSHIP WAS THAT YOU KEEP THIS SHIT TO YOURSELVES

yourusername: gosh a girl can't have baby fever in peace these days

alexalbon: unless that baby is coming by stork you can put that talk on hold real fast

yourusername: just because lily is busy does not mean you have to take it out on me and george

georgerussell63: alex is it illegal for a man to be handsome?

alexalbon: if it's illegal to be handsome, you'd have the cleanest record known to man

yourusername: STOP RIGHT THERE DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT LYING IS A SIN

alexalbon: i'm not going to say YOUR boyfriend is hot, no.

yourusername: just because i got in there first 🙄

user3: i don't think she's serious but also george with a baby is just too cute not to happen

user4: george is the perf instagram boyf like he's so ready to pose

landonorris: well that definitely is something we all want to know

yourusername: i know you would LOVE to know ALL the details norris

georgerussell63: she's never going to let your crush go lando, you gotta just hold it

landonorris: i was THIRTEEN

yourusername: you don't love me anymore? 😕

landonorris: i don't know why i always get in these arguments with you

user5: i love how george just instigates things for y/n lmao

user6: your boyfriend should always support your mess

liked by yourusername

georgerussell63

liked by lewishamilton, alexalbon and 1,209,458 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: fatherhood is a different beast

view all comments

user8: alright i am so confused

user9: there's no way y/n can actually be pregnant i saw her down at least three pornstar martinis in hospitality this weekend

alexalbon: this better be a joke or i'm gonna kick you so hard you get a free non-reversible vasectomy

yourusername: stop the violence!

alexalbon: THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR GLEE REFERENCES

yourusername: someone is channelling some serious sue vibes right now

georgerussell63: let it be known i like my reproductive systems the way they are

alexalbon: that's kind of the point of a threat, you aren't supposed to want it

yourusername: he likes threats if they come from the right person

alexalbon: i am about one more comment away from knocking down your hotel room door and throwing george from the balcony

yourusername: and deprive our child from a father... alex i expected better from you

alexalbon: that's it i'm on my way

georgerussell63: @mercedesamgf1 PLEASE PROTECT ME I AM PRECIOUS CARGO

user10: these bitches got me actually combing through tiktoks and hospitality menus to see if y/n was actually drinking

user11: i'm gonna be real angry if this is all a big joke

user12: i know kimi antonelli is young but this is NAWT the way to announce him for 2025

charles_leclerc: guys i need you to spell everything out i am confused

georgerussell63: no can do charles you gotta follow the breadcrumbs just like everyone else

yourusername: it's right there sharl

charles_leclerc: actually alex, wait, i'm coming with you these hoes are annoying me

landonorris: don't forget me

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, maxverstappen1 and 1,409,556 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: our baby is here!

view all comments

user15: A CAT?

user16: i just knew george russell would be a ragdoll girl

georgerussell63: they were right i AM a girl dad

yourusername: finally dilf status

georgerussell63: a title i do not take lightly

yourusername: i can confirm libido has gone UP since becoming parents!

landonorris: shut THE FUCK UP

yourusername: you'll understand in time lando

georgerussell63: you just found yourself at the bottom of the babysitting list

landonorris: i don't want to look after it

yourusername: IT? IT? HOW DARE YOU?

georgerussell63: she can hear you lando that's so disrespectful :(

landonorris: ??? i'm not saying sorry to a cat over instagram comment

georgerussell63: expect the same courtesy when i take you out first corner next weekend

user17: i fear that was not a threat but a promise from george

user18: it's kinda hot

liked by yourusername

alexalbon: NEW ALBON PETS LORE AND NONE OF YOU TOLD ME

yourusername: ella can't wait to meet the gang

alexalbon: no offence but ella is kinda a shit name

yourusername: short for mozzarella

alexalbon: i take it back

georgerussell63: cause she's the lil pearl of our life

alexalbon: i love her already

user19: so we went through all this tomfoolery for a cat? a cat called mozzarella?

user20: you have to agree it's iconic

alexalbon

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 889,304 others

tagged: georgerussell63 & yourusername

alexalbon: i knew @albon_pets would get george at some point

view all comments

user22: i love how alex became the chill guy again after it was revealed he was not yet an uncle

georgerussell63: hard on the yet

alexalbon: too soon george

user23: the albon pets signature of approval is a bigger sign that george is in the gamily than if he actually proposed to y/n

user24: they've got a baby now he's an albon

yourusername: horsey is going to kick off over having to share george with me and mozzie

albon_pets: bring it on - horsey

yourusername: alex i'm not arguing with you pretending to be horsey, this ain't roscoe and lewis

lewishamilton: rude

roscoelovescoco: meanie

yourusername: did you just call me mean as your dog?

lewishamilton: you were extra mean

yourusername: fine lets let mozzie and roscoe scrap it out at silverstone - she's got the sass of both me and george btw x

lewishamilton: stay AWAY FROM MY DOG

user25: the merc garage gonna be a whole petting zoo at silverstone i can't

user26: you wanna catch up with red bull? sell meet and greet tickets to the petting zoo

maxverstappen1: this is my official invitation to a play date with jimmy and sassy

yourusername: WE'LL BE THERE

maxverstappen1: is mozzarella civilised?

georgerussell63: of course my child has manners?

maxverstappen1: you crash into people all the time, i had to check

georgerussell63

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 896,045 others

tagged: yourusername

georgerussell63: all of the family here for the home race

view all comments

user27: y/n wearing mozzarella in a baby harness i need to be put down

user28: that really is their child oh my

yourusername: make our baby proud georgie

georgerussell63: anything for you two xx

alexalbon: why do i never get these nice comments

yourusername: they're transmitted through our genes x

yourusername: also george more important 👍🏻

alexalbon: i'm literally your brother? your flesh and blood?

yourusername: george cuter

georgerussell63: can't argue with that

alexalbon: well of course he is this ain't alabama. (sorry logan)

logansargent: i'm from florida?

yourusername: even worse, my condolences

georgerussell63: can we get back to talking about how dashing i am?

yourusername: yes!

alexalbon: NO. SAY GOOD LUCK Y/N

yourusername: good luck y/n

alexalbon: what if i crash and you never said good luck, think about it y/n

yourusername: good luck alex (you're an asshole for weaponising the sport (and you being shit at it))

user29: i think i had about three strokes trying to follow this argument

user30: poor logan is just a victim of the albons at this point

landonorris: have a baby and forget about the rest of us, i see how it is

yourusername: you will never measure up to mozzie lando i hope you know that

georgerussell63: what y/n means is that i love my friends, but a child is a gift from god

landonorris: it's a cat. she can't even talk

yourusername: and yet she makes better points than you, makes you think

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 834,019 others

tagged: georgerussell63

yourusername: fatherhood looks good on you

view all comments

user31: mozzarella is so big already 🥹

user32: maybe i'm worse than them cause i'm attached to mozzie as well

georgerussell63: no one else i'd rather be cat parents to

yourusername: you're such a romantic

georgerussll63: such a pleasure to take this next step with the love of my life

yourusername: i love you more

georgerussell63: not possible

alexalbon: you being gross about mozzie was better than what ever the fuck this is

yourusername: @lilymunhe does he not treat you right?

lilymunhe: he's a romantic really, he's just exhausting the protective big brother act until george finally proposes

alexalbon: sue me

maxverstappen1: still waiting on the play date ...

yourusername: monaco?

maxverstappen1: done

yourusername: jimmy, sassy and ella will be like the charlie's angles reincarnated

georgerussell63: can't wait for you to see her IMPECCABLE manners

maxverstappen1: okay princess george

yourusername: hey only i can call george princess

maxverstappen1: you keep that to yourself

user33: disappointed that with all the tomfoolery around mozzie that there was no maternity photoshoots

yourusername: oh do not give me a challenge...

fin.

note: NEW SERIES ALERT? i'll create a masterlist after i post this. i hope you enjoyed, this one is more of a tame brother's best friend take but dw they can get more beefy and more sassy - send me any pairings you might like to see! thanks for reading x

[circeyoru]

Never Meant to Be…

[E-Rank!Sung Jinwoo x Summoner!Reader]

“Master Summoner, there is no need for you to waste your time here. This is only a low rank Gate, surely you’re needed elsewhere.”

“Nonsense, all Gates pose their unique level of threat no matter the rank and mana levels emitted.” You hummed as you fiddled with the tablet in hand to complete the final reports of your duties for today, a little fieldday wouldn’t hurt anyone. Besides… It wasn’t like Woo Jinchul isn’t used to your antics by now. Once completed, you turned your full attention to the self-appointed raid leader with a nervous look on his face―not the ‘oh boy a high-ranker is here to spectate’ but the ‘shit, I can’t do what I usually do’ kind of look. You gave him your business smile, “Don’t worry, I’ll be standing in the back, offering support if necessary. Hunters are still humans after all, wouldn’t want to lose any one of you.”

“Right, yes, of course.” The raid leader nodded his head, grudgingly giving you a smile, “Having you here is such a reassurance. Thanks for your services in advance.”

You let the poor man go to his raid team as you stood at the side, watching as he started to brief the other members of an observer joining the raid―that was you―without prior warning. You scanned the team as you stood at alert, your eyes sparkled and the corner of your lip curled up when a familiar figure was in the crowd.

“Let’s move!”

Everyone moved in formation with the strongest leading in the front and the tankers holding up their shields in case of an ambush type of monster. You did as you promised, walking behind the group with your hands in your pockets with an idle expression as you scanned the interior of the dungeon and its atmosphere.

You walked with a skip in your step as you joined his side, “Fancy seeing you here, what are the chances?”

Sung Jinwoo glanced at you for maybe a few second behfore setting his eyes back to his surroundings. It wasn’t that he was disrespectful of your―obviously higher rank and achievements―being, it was more of him not having the luxury of idle chatter while in a dungeon as compared to you. “If it’s you, Master Summoner, I have a feeling it’s not chance.”

“Then fate.” You chirped with a carefree smile, “It has to be that. Oh and also, I have a name, mister. Don’t refer to me by title, aren’t we close enough for that?”

Again, he glanced over as if stealing a peek at a crush in school―you found that side of him adorable. “In public, I think I should do that.” You were about to say something when he paused but he beat you to the punch, “But I also not want to drop that habit and slip up, so…”

You sighed internally. A small part of you deflated, but you understood what he said. He was the lowest of the low, the weakest of the weak. All knew him but not of a positive light. Still, you didn’t fall for him because of his raw strength, it was his determination and will power that caught your eye, the strength to push through against all odds and strive to survive not for himself, but for his family.

“Shall we go visit your mother after this raid? I can treat you and your sister to dinner. She needs her energy to study, right?” You changed the topic to something more lightheaded.

“I can’t impose―”

“Come, form a barrier, Water Serpent!” You suddenly interrupted him and raised your hand in the air. In the blink of an eye, a magic circle appeared under your shoes and enlarged itself until a giant snake appeared. Scales as blue as the ocean, crystal for eyes glowed in the dim dungeon, and its tail shaped like a fish’s fin with an ever present wave of water emitted.

The serpent surrounded the Hunters and a water dome appeared over them. Not a second later, bangs were heard all around perimeter of the dome and its surface, yet it was too dark to tell what was happening.

“Light! Mages, cast light magic!”

The mages did as ordered and orbs of light floated up to the top of the dome from the inside. Gasps were heard immediately when the view became clear. Bats, humanoid bats, were claw at the dome to get to them. Their claws were sharp, yet their speed couldn’t compare to the regenerative abilities of the dome.

“We’re sitting ducks!”

“We’re all going to die here!”

While Jinwoo was working his brain in overdrive to try and find a way out of this, you stepped up to the leader. “Sir, with all due respect, this is not something this team can handle. Can I take charge and bring everyone out?”

“...” The raid leader’s expression showed obvious confliction as he battled himself for the answer to your question. He looked to the team he was given the privilege of leading and the monsters that were doing everything they could to get to them from all sides. He looked to the serpent protecting them under your command. His hands clenched into fists, shaking with silent rage. You thought―everyone else thought―the leader was going to be stubborn and prideful. Yet… “Our lives are in your hands.”

A sigh of relief were sounded from all around. You nodded and patted his shoulder with a grateful smile before it fade and you turned to the rest of the team, “This barrier won’t hold while we’re on the move, it’s only present when we remain station. These beasts aren’t something that you all can handle so the best course of action now is to get you all out of here and have a team with higher ranked Hunters take over. Any objections?”

The team was silent.

“If no, then we must returned to the entrance quickly, I’ll cover you all while you run.” You shouted out to them. You raised your hand and used a small dagger to cut your palm enough to draw blood. You squeezed your hand into a fist until drops of blood dripped onto the ground, “Come, answer my summons, Shadow Mare and Sky Phoenix.”

Two more magic circles appeared, only this time it wasn’t under your shoes but in front of you. The nearby raid members all backed away a bit to make space as the circles enlarged the same way as it did before. Out of the circles, two creatures appeared. One in the form of a horse but bigger than the average size on Earth, in addition, it was as if its cloaked in darkness with his entire body pitch black, save of the glowing white eyes. The other in the form of an eagle, also bigger and much like the folklores depiction of a phoenix but instead of fire and a mix of red, orange, and yellow, there was whirls of wind and a mix of green and light blue. 

“My Water Serpent will guide you to the exit while my Sky Phoenix will fight off any danger so you all can focus on escaping.” You leaped and got on the Shadow Mare’s back, grabbing a hand full of its mane made from shadows. “I’ll distract it from the back, but don’t think that you don’t need to fight, if the situation calls for it, just follow your instinct.”

So the plan came and went, it was agonizing for you since you had to maintain three summons at the same time and provide the mana necessary for its healing from multiple attacks. Over the course of it, you had to grab Jinwoo and pull him up to your ride as he―heroically―stayed back to help someone who tripped but they in turn felt him to fend for himself. You instructed for him to hug onto your waist or else he wouldn’t stay on your summon.

Once you all made it out, you immediately went to the personnel that came with you to file an urgent report of the situation. While your partner went on to request the nearest guild’s aid, you called Jinchul to request for his arrival as you stood guard in case of a dreaded dungeon break. Thankfully, none of the worse case scenarios happened thanks to your quick thinking and the team’s cooperation with the situation. When things start to die down, you went to Jinwoo and passed him the essence stones your summons got from defeating the beasts along the way.

“Here… I know it’s not much but… This should help your mother’s hospital fees and…” You feel yourself going off balance as your world tilted to the side, you saw Jinwoo’s shocked and concern expression, his lips moved but all you heard was an earpiercing ring like the world had gone silent. “Oh, I think… I need to…”

You swear before you blacked out, you heard your name being called out. You could have sworn it was Jinwoo. Then again, it couldn’t be him, right?

⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧⬪⬧

“Must be nice. To have the Master Summoner’s favour.”

“Tsk. What a leech.”

“E-Rank scum.”

“Does he have no pride?”

Words of scorn shifted from calling Jinwoo a weakling to hogging the attention of one of the more talented Hunters in the country; the Master Summoner. The only Hunter that could summoned beasts of great calber, no two summons were the same unless one counted the pack or grouped summons. You were a legendary Hunter despite not being an S-Rank, people say you reported a false rank, but that was never confirmed. You worked in the Hunters Association as the vice-chairman, as more of an on-site staff member to connect to the Hunters, guild or guild-less.

That was actually how he and you met.

You were in your routine inspection, nothing special, just a causal observation to see if any guidelines needed to be improved or changed, even added if necessary. You stood at the back of the team and observed silently, only acting to defend yourself when the situation arose. He found himself captivated, you were so serious that he thought that was your only side.

Until he was saved by you when he was in a bind. It was a weaker monster, a goblin, that pinned him to a corner, the rest of the team moved on without him since he was picked off to the side. He thought that was it, he thought that this was going to be his end. But then you showed up. A line cut through the goblin faster than his eyes could follow and at its destruction, you were standing victorious with a bloody blade in one hand. Your summons, a pack of grey wolves with steel-like furcoat, move to devour the corpse. You walked pass the mess and extented your hand to him, “Are you okay? Come on, we need to catch up to the group.”

There was no annoyance, there was no sarcasm. You were looking out for him as an equal, devoid of ranks. That started it all.

You showed up more to raid he was going to. What started as once a month slowly turned to once a week, it was very gradual to the point it didn’t notice until the gossip and envious gaze directed at him when he was alone. He didn’t care, truly he didn’t. For you were like a ray of hope in his darkness.

Jinwoo didn’t understand why, but you took time out of your schedule to take care of his mother in the hospital and his younger sister when he was recovering in the hospital after a grueling raid that got him lying in the hospital bed. You gotten close to his sister while tutoring her even, not only eating dinner with her while he was busy with recovery or raids.

Your smile and kindness, he always bowed his head in respect and gratitude. He told himself not to be greedy and not to forget his place. There was no way you’d fall for someone like him when you could be with people as great as the other S-Rank Hunters. So he drilled it into his head that you were out of his league and never try to covet you.

Then why…

When you took charge of that raid, when you aimed for everyone’s safety, when you went back for him when he was once more left behind by his teammates, when you told him to hug you as you rushed the two of you back to safety. Did he wish those moments could last longer, just the two of you. His heart ached for you. His mind recorded the moments like they were his last.

And they were.

“Please. Stop everything that you’re doing to me.” Jinwoo’s voice spoke words he never wanted to say. His eyes stared at his intertwined fingers on his lap. He couldn’t face you, he just couldn’t.

“What are you saying? I’ll stop cooking your meat if that’s what you want.” You chuckled with a half-hearted promise, not before you dump another piece of meat into his bowl. “You know, this kind of thing doesn’t need such a serious tone.” You waved your tongs in the air, “We both should celebrate to the occasion nothing bad happened in that dungeon the other day.”

Jinwoo clenched his jaw, “Stop being so nice to me!”

His outburst got people at the tables near the two of you turn their heads in your direction. You chuckled and nodded in apology, motioning for them to continue with their dining. You stared at Jinwoo in concern as you placed the tongs down, lowering the heat a bit to avoid burning the still cooking meat. “What exactly do you mean?”

“The hospital visits, the meals, the money, the homestays, the care… Everything you’ve been doing for me. Please stop it.” Jinwoo told you all this in the eyes, never breaking eye contact. “I know you mean well, but… I… I can handle it. So thank you, but I don’t need it.”

The look of concern dropped from your face, an expression of disbelief and awe mixed together as you tried to keep your smile on. “Are you that dense? Don’t you see why I’m doing this?” 

When Jinwoo remained silent, you clicked your tongue in denial. In his mind, this was the best course of action. As long as he was a lowly E-Rank Hunter, he could never match up to you. This was for the best, for both him and you.

“I thought you’re better than this… That the gossip and rumours wouldn’t push you down…” You whispered, but Jinwoo heard it all. 

His mind shouted “sorry” over and over like a broken record.

“I love you.”

That made his head snap up to gaze at you. Only… Now there was an expression of brokenness on your face, your eyes were watery and your lips in a thin straight line. Your gaze on him was firm and piercing that he felt like he was being burnt through. His mind at a blank when he replayed what you said over and over.

“Do you have to make me say it out loud for you to understand?” Your voice cracked and broke.

He was speechless. There was no way… No way you actually like, no, love him. No way you want him. And no way would this work in the long run. You’d be laughed at, you’d be the talk of the town, you’d be disrespected for associating with him in that way.

“Fine. Have it your way.” You stood up sudden, slamming a slack of cash on the table. “Here, this is the last time anyways. Keep the change since you shouldn’t come find me or the other way around.”

As he watched your back stomping to the exit, his heart screamed at him to chase after you and his mind looped the anger in your voice. Yet his body sat there frozen in time.

In the end, he didn’t do anything.

For it was never meant to be…

Note: Angst angst angst. This is full angst. I think there was a request on a summoner!reader in my inbox before, but now it's gone?? The only thing I remembered from that request was the summoner bit, otherwise I can't recall since it's deleted (not by me okay). Anyways, hope you enjoyed this one while waiting on the monarch series.

𝕮𝖎𝖗𝖈𝖊 𝖄.

My Works: MASTERLIST *(regarding requests, check the Masterlist to see if it’s opened or not and other info related before sending one. Thanks.)

Taglist: @rozuburedo @ariseverdark @skylar896 @o-qi-shisme @stoats-a-dork

[akumamazoku]

I AM YOUR RECKONING

edit: changed the title so this wouldn’t get confused for the actual big project, this isn’t part of it

it was previously ‘i will eclipse you every time’ SORRY the re:concerns lyrics were stuck in my head,,,

yoo this is a WIP soooo it’ll be cooler later trust

GINORMOUS THANK YOU TO @goosewithagun i literally couldn’t have drawn this without them, i swear looking back at my sketches compared to the fixes and adjustments they made is ASTONISHING like my anatomy was so OFF lol so they helped me sm

thank u lums :D

ANYWAYS yeah i was in an art mood again and i got inspired by some swordfighting poses i saw on pinterest (… i was originally gonna draw medieval knight 1x with a cool skeleton horse but there’s always next time) sooo i started on this! there are still some stuff i want to add like 1x’s cloak n everything, but i thought i’d get down the base before i add more stuff over top, like their smoke layers later

also this time we have the actual shed!! no telamon for rn

sorry for the rant i just like to talk abt my ideas!!!

ALSO sorry if anything looks off, if you see something i should fix leave me a bit of constructive criticism below!!! i wanna make this look as good as my last 1x drawing!

…i just realized that i named this post ‘i will eclipse you every time’ trust me this is NOT what i was referring to on my mortem currere one lol, ill have the actual stuff out maybe later this momth

[th3-past3l-cl0wn]

The portraits of Neha and Elizabeth Beaufort: an analysis

By me

At first glance it was easy to observe the clear inspiration Neha’s portrait had of “the girl with the pearl earring”, however we can somehow feel this when looking at Beaufort’s portrait.

But the deeper we look into their character, the more we realise how opposed they are to each other, representing her inner character.

our first encounters

In both cases, you don’t know them for who they are, but you are introduced by what they are, “the novelty dice maker” and “the gardener”.

You get to later know their names, you might only know one for Neha but it doesn’t distance you from her, quite the opposite it feels like a nickname.

Learning Elizabeth Beaufort’s full name distances you from her, she is now a title, a figure of authority.

Neha is hidden, and if you wish you can even decide to go the whole game without seeing or talking to her. But Beaufort? She is centric to the story, you have to talk to her, she is one of the first characters you see when you go outside, one of the first that helps you in the examination process with the ammonia and gardening gloves.

the girl with the pearl earring

while we can see it clearly for Neha, it feels more vague for Elizabeth.

Neha’s head covering is worn in a more modest and classical manner, her pose practically identical to the reference, she symbolizes the “old” what was once. An art piece and aspiring individual of her time. The way her portrait is painted is very academic, there is very little use of dark outline if ever. Everything about it is almost soft and comforting.

In contrast Beaufort’s portrait adopts a widely different, almost provocative pose, the way she wears the headgear covering less for instance but attaching her hair, prioritizing practicality over appearances. There is a more modern touch to her portrait, the colours are saturated and there is a bold dark outline, she is defying the traditional. She represents the “youth” of Martinaise.

While Neha resembles almost identically to the portrait, Beaufort distances herself from it, the past but still she finds a way to keep a part of it, what made her what she is, and then turn it into something personal.

In both of their portraits, the background is applied similarly for the taints and almost like they were mirrored vertically, however Neha’s are softer, almost like they are fading away, while Beaufort’s are high in contrast.

the postures

The novelty dice maker, upon your first meeting with her, is turned away from you, she’s working, she stills open herself to you, as she presents her arts and studio in an almost familiar way. You enter her domain of creation, you’re inside her soul. Maybe you could picture it sort of like a confessional, there is intimacy between the two of them and they won't necessarily need to face each other. She looks at you from the side, seemingly making you feel as though you were disturbing her, and yet she is not. But she stills look at you from above, this could be referring to the fact she was up, high in her workshop’s room while the crime scene was unfolding, not only this but she “disregarded” it when it was happening, as she had one of the best view on it, and yet stayed absorbed by her art.

On the other hand, Beaufort is facing forward all time, she’s observing your every move, she looks up at you, from beneath it is easier to see all (visual calculus check “gardening in march”, you point out the fact she is stationed at the best spot to keep tabs of people). She looks at you with an interrogative expression, she was expecting you to be here, to talk to her. She shields herself from you when she crosses her arms or when she hides her real identity from you at the start by going as “the gardener”, she makes you believe that you are someone above her, and you believe it. She is always in a public space, never once alone, she is either outside or in the Whirling-in-rags. There is no intimacy, if even a way to talk to her as “Elizabeth” instead she is “a member of the union”, this could also be reflected in her looking upward, as stated earlier, as she is in the middle of a hierarchy in the Union. Her purpose is to exonerate the Union of the presumed crime, “the Union fixer”. She is cleaning up the mess caused by the Union’s dogs. Even if there is a “box” reminding of a confessional where the Hardie boys stay, it is, not only a long process to get them to confess, she is the first to stop them when they open up, but you are also constantly observed by the public, not only her but the people at the Whirling.

Knowing this, Neha also found herself “shielded” by the entrance of her studio, though it served an entirely different purpose as it can always be opened. Beaufort wears different masks that you can’t take off as you talk to her, but rather break by any new dialogues you have surrounding the case, there is no way to get under her skin without making her reach a breaking point. They are facing opposite directions, Neha leaned toward the past, Beaufort toward the future, but they both look in your direction: the present.

No matter their difference, both of them wear blue clothes, this reflecting their social class, they're both born blue collars, even if Beaufort wears a white shirt, representing the purity of her youth and her future aspirations, she works for the union, the symbol of the working class, she represent them on a legal point of view, as a lawyer. Her jean strapped overall partially visible in her portrait also can remind of a tank top, or “débardeur”, which could be an echo to the organization she works closely with, the dockworkers union” or “débardeurs’ union”. Elizabth’s softer features in comparison to Neha’s sharper ones also amplifies this duality of “youth” vs the “old”.

the lightings

Beaufort’s portrait shows a significant amount of green on her forehead, associating blue and yellow, blue symbolizing intellectual skills and yellow motorics, this is her mindset. However the right side of her face is lit in dark red, which can be associated with physique skills, indicating her short temper she tries to hide. The fact it is cast on the right side of her face could imply that it is her “real” face, what is “right”. In her eyes and her nose you can also see a reflexion of light that Neha doesn’t have, echoing to her “ bright and hopeful” futur, the fact she is highly regarded by her peers, but also maybe her more emotive tendencies, not in a derogatory way, but more in a youthful ardor, defending her ideals.

For Neha, her yellow, we could even say gold lighting highlights what she is handling right now, her works, her art, that is what is important to her, she is what she creates, her face being cast in the shadow. This choice of colour for the light might be associated with motorics skills knowing she is a dicemaker. The light could also represent the future ahead, the change in the world, the “miracle – from the northwest”. She is averting her gaze from it. It is too late for her.

[genderkoolaid]

Hello, I am going to ask about that sabrina post. Please don't feel the need to answer if you don't wish to. I didn't listen to any of her music other than expresso, so I didn't know about any of her other tracks and gave them all a listen to see what the fuss was about. I generally think the controversy over "Man's best friend" is basically entirely slut shaming, but isn't one of her other popular songs, "Juno", kinda bad? Being promiscuous or wanting to get pregnant is fine. The positions are fine, but I'm unsettled by the fact that she's referencing a minor in such a sexual song. I believe that the poses even got the nickname "Juno poses". I get that it's not as bad as that "euphoria" show that used to be popular, and perhaps I'm overthinking it, the sexualization of underage girls isn't as uncommon as I wish it was, but what do you think? Apologies if I'm coming off as rude. Also I think your blog is very insightful, thank you for running it.

I personally don't think it's that big a deal. The song is a reference to a movie about a well-known movie about a girl who gets pregnant. The girl in the film is a teenager, but the song itself is clearly referencing it because it is a popular movie about pregnancy and not anything related to teen pregnancy specifically. It's something that might be a little strange, but materially it's only connection to the sexualization of underage girls, is that the title is a pop culture reference to a famous movie about a teen pregnancy.

I think it's understandable why you might be put off by this. Since you asked for my thoughts, I want to give you this to chew on: I think part of the problem with a lot of online activism (which bleeds into real life activism), is that people have values and stances but tend to be very focused on surface-level feelings about these issues. This is where you get people talking about how short women being sexual with tall men makes them uncomfortable or makes them assume their male partners are pedophiles. These people are genuinely concerned about the issue of girls being sexualized, but they aren't focused on what is materially harmful—just what reminds them of the negative feelings they have about girls being sexualized. So anything that inspires similar negative feelings is assumed to be equally harmful, or at least connected to that real-world harm. This is an understandable but ultimately dangerous way of navigating social issues.

It is genuinely good that people are talking more about protecting young people, especially those seen as girls, from being sexualized. But the reason that is bad is because of the material impact it has. Sabrina Carpenter is not trying to promote young girls being pregnant as something that is sexually desirable; she's simply making a pop culture reference, which is at best unfortunate. But if you haven't seen the movie Juno, you likely wouldn't know that the titular character is a pregnant teenager, or even that the song is a reference to the movie. I don't think there's anything to be genuinely concerned about here.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Intertextuality

Applying Literary Inspiration to Your Writing

The concept of intertextuality is a literary theory stating all works of literature are a derivation or have been influenced by a previous work of literature.

There is deliberate intertextuality, which purposely borrows from texts,

and there is latent intertextuality, which is when references occur incidentally—the connection or influence isn’t deliberate—as all written text makes intertextuality possible.

Some intertextual references are exact lines of dialogue or action, while others are more vaguely referenced.

The definition of intertextuality includes forms of parody, pastiche, retellings, homage, and allegory.

Any work of literature that is involved in the creation of a new text is considered intertextual.

Tips for Using Intertextuality

Intertextuality is a literary device that can be used in a number of different ways within your own work:

Venture outside the genre. You can use works like Dante Alighieri’s The Divine Comedy or John Milton’s Paradise Lost to craft an intertextual work that isn’t a biblical or religion-themed story. Horror can inspire comedy, like for spoofs or parodies, and comedy can inspire drama. Lines of dialogue can be used as titles or inspiration for your work, storylines can be placed in a different time or setting to create a new plot, even text from formal essays or other parodies can be used within your own writing to make it intertextual.

Embrace it. According to some, intertextuality is either deliberate or latent but is completely unavoidable. Every text has been influenced by the countless ones that have come before it. With that in mind, it’s okay to accept that “everything has already been written” and make something of your own.

Don’t plagiarize. You may not need to use quotation marks, but using another author’s work as a basis for your own does not mean copying their writing—or taking credit for their original writing. Intertextuality is about referencing, allusions, satire, and borrowing, not taking whole texts and changing the character names.

Examples of Intertextuality

In the 1960s, literary critic Julia Kristeva posed the idea that intertextual relationships could be found throughout many forms of literature—different texts exist through their relation to prior literary texts—feeding into the idea that no text is truly or uniquely original. The notion of intertextuality posits that everything has some form of influence or borrowing from literary works of the past.

According to Kristeva, nearly all works contain some form of reference to another work of the past. Below are examples of many famous writings that employ the use of intertextuality:

The main plotline of Disney’s The Lion King is a take on Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

The structure of James Joyce’s Ulysses is modeled after Homer’s Odyssey.

Jane Smiley’s A Thousand Acres is a contemporary retelling of Shakespeare’s King Lear.

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys is an intertextual work of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre as it includes the wife of a secondary character from the novel as one of its own, and offers an alternative point of view on similar social issues of the prior narrative.

Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials series is an inverted retelling of John Milton’s Paradise Lost.

Matt Groenig’s television show The Simpsons uses multiple intertextual references to literature, films, other tv shows, and commercials for its storylines and jokes.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[justagaycryptid]

I feel that regarding Morgott/Tarnished pairings there’s an untapped market regarding the transitional period that there would be between the start of the relationship and the point where it actually is healthy

Like it would take a lot of effort on the Tarnished’s part to actually get Morgott to simply just be amicable to them. Like it wouldn’t take too much divergence from canon to keep him alive, simply have him decide to concede to the Tarnished instead of choosing to keep going until he dies; he’d have to realize that he cannot win, but if he stays alive he can figure out some way to minimize the damage the Tarnished poses to the Golden Order/Leyndell, especially since they aren’t Elden Lord yet, so he’s got time to plan. It could be believable since while Morgott is prideful as hell, he’s also fully devoted to his role as Lord of Leyndell; yes it’s more likely he’d die protecting the Erdtree, as happens in canon, but posing a divergence from canon with his concession, depending mostly on the type of Tarnished he’s dealing with, wouldn’t be too out of character so long as you frame it as a long play on his part, which we know he’s capable of given his history as Veiled Monarch for the past few thousand years or so.

So given this kind of foundation, there’s no way in hell that there would be any sort of progress until after the Tarnished becomes Elden Lord. Morgott’s deal is very much ‘the devil that you know is better than the devil that you don’t’. He’s not stupid; he knows he suffers under the Golden Order, he knows other Omen suffer under the Golden Order, he knows the world had gone to shit. Yet still, this is all he has. He’s given himself to the Golden Order because it’s all he has. He holds a hope that yes, one day the Golden Order will fix everything, that it will hold true and restore sanity to The Lands Between. It is the only thing he has left to give his love to, and by every god above that’s what he’s going to do. And like I don’t 100% subscribe to the notion that the dude is just a self-loathing sad sack. Yes, he holds a disdain for his Omen heritage and views himself as lesser in that regard, but at the same time he deliberately escaped the Shunning Grounds during the Shattering and took the throne of Leyndell for himself. He explicitly refers to himself as ‘Last of All Kings’ during the cutscene for his boss battle. He’s an efficient warmonger and one of the orchestrators of one of the battle on Mount Gelmir, which is considered one of the most appalling battles in the entirety of the Shattering. Despite all his hang ups about being an Omen, he is prideful to a fault.

So then when it comes to the Tarnished, he doesn’t know what they are going to do. (Minor point of contention that I have is when people refer to Morgott as ‘racist’ because of his disdain for the Tarnished. First off, Tarnished aren’t a race, being Tarnished is an affiliation; warriors of Godfrey that were banished with him after they lost Grace in The Long March (pretty sure that’s what it was called) and their descendants. If you’re gonna call Morgott racist then criticize his beliefs about the Golden Order and how they treat lesser races, but not because he hates the player character. Stupid thing to bitch about but I digress) Morgott hates the Tarnished because he knows what they represent. He knows that means that they have been called to repair the Elden Ring and become the new reigning Elden Lord, which is an idea that terrifies Morgott. And honestly given some of the endings you can achieve, he’s right to be terrified. This is something that threatens the state of the Golden Order and the Lands Between as a whole, much less Morgott’s title as Lord of Leyndell. He stands to lose everything he’s desperately fought for, and watch the world fall apart before his very eyes. There would be no relationship between the Tarnished and Morgott unless they could prove to him that they aren’t going to essentially ruin everything. Given that they are able to achieve this, it would likely be slow going to improve their standing; hesitant allies evolving to a sort of comfortable ‘coworker’ (I suppose? There’s probably a better word for it but that’s all I’ve got at the moment) standing given that the Tarnished proves themselves competent in manners of state, or if they are willing to learn (preferably from Morgott since then he’d be more assured that they’re doing things the ‘right’ way). Of course Morgott would be very unlikely to initiate anything on his end. As it stands, once he’s sure the Tarnished won’t bring about the destruction of the Lands Between, he’d probably prefer to be left alone to keep serving as Lord of Leyndell. It’s not that he necessarily wants to be alone, it’s just more comfortable for him; it’s what he’s used to. But given that he’s almost certainly lonely, and if they are tolerable to be around, it would take less effort than one would think to get him to warm up to them.

If it did ever progress to something romantic however, the Tarnished would need to initiate. Firstly, it’s unlikely Morgott would recognize any romantic feelings he may harbor as being such; he’d likely take it as himself beginning to recognize the Tarnished as Elden Lord, which is a status akin to divinity, since for Morgott love and worship are intrinsically linked in his mind. Secondly, even if he did recognize himself as falling in love, he would not act on it unless he knew his affections were explicitly wanted. And even then it would take convincing. Just because he feels he deserves his position as Lord of Leyndell, doesn’t mean he feels like he would deserve to consort with the Elden Lord. He *is* still an Omen. He knows that is something that is undesirable, something that he himself considers undesirable. It would take a metric ton of coaxing and reassurances that yes, the Tarnished does in fact want him romantically.

And then it would very quickly get unhealthy.

As I said before, Morgott believes love and worship to be intrinsically linked to one another; his parents are gods and the only thing he has ever loved has been the religious system that oppressed him for thousands of years. He had likely never had any sort of healthy attachments modeled for him, and thus would not know how to express his newfound love for the Tarnished in a healthy manner. Like it wouldn’t get to ridiculous levels like ‘Alpha Male’ Morgott, but he would be incredibly jealous and possessive. This is his Love, his very God. He dedicates his very fucking soul to them and only them, and he’s constantly terrified of losing their favor just as he never held the favor of Grace. Because the Tarnished is a God he knows that other people worship and covet them as well. Depending on the Tarnished’s stance on the Golden Order it’s very likely he would at this point finally abandon it, especially if it’s been abolished by the Tarnished. How foolish of him to worship false idols that would never return his love! He’s finally found true divinity! Of course be still holds lingering shame about his blood considering that it takes more than a little while to undo thousands of years of hearing that you are a mistake and a blight on the world. But in this instance his shame would only push him to keep his hold tight on the Tarnished. He knows that he is Unworthy, and yet he still has the love of his God anyways, and there isn’t a single damn person that can take this away from him. It’s very likely he would also become paranoid to excessive levels that the Tarnished will find someone better. That there are worthier suitors than him, that they will decide that they no longer want him and have realized that they deserve better. Depending on if the Tarnished is able to catch this, it’s very likely that Morgott would spiral into something uncontrollable and that the relationship would become something toxic. Taking a more optimistic path, it would take a lot of honest discussion with Morgott before the relationship settles into something healthy, at least on Morgott’s side. He’d eventually calm the hell down and for the most part quell his more negative emotions.

[respectthepetty]

Reading the (Visual) Rainbow Awards 2024

2023 was the first time I gave these awards, so I'm excited to deliver my 2024 version to the QLs that gave the best visual narratives this past year. In order to be considered for these awards, the series 1) had to air during 2024, and 2) had to finish airing by December 31, so out of the 114 QLs I watched this year, 13 are still ongoing and cannot be considered for these awards. Out of the remaining 94 QLs, 69 had some degree of consistent color coding

*For reference, in 2023, I watched 108 QLs, 14 were still ongoing, and 67 had consistent color coding.

Now for the ceremony to begin!

Petty Award: Last Twilight, Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo, and Spare Me Your Mercy

This award goes to a show or shows that had great visual narratives but I refuse to write about it because I'm petty, and these shows know what they did to me!

I've aired my grievances with these shows plenty, so now they can officially join last year's winners, Only Friends and I Feel You Linger in the Air, plus several other series in my Grudge Garden. May beauty bloom from the cruel love you gave me.

Stats Awards [These awards are based solely on numbers]

Most Popular: Black Brooder

This award goes to the color that was most popular in a pair, number-wise.

The stats: A Black Brooder was part of a color-coded pair 27 times in 2024. 2023’s was a Blue Boy with 26. The next color-coded boy in 2024 was a Blue Boy who was part of 21 pairs. 2023's was a Black Brooder who was part of 15 pairs.

The Best Black Brooder was Happy of the End’s Haoran. The show explicitly stated he was mysterious, secretive, and seductive which are all key characteristics of a Black Brooder. He had a dark past that haunted him and the narrative the entire show, so the black color appropriately emphasized the darkness within him. Even at the very end, he was lighter in his life, but it did not take away from what he went through to get that little bit of happiness and color. Haoran is the epitome of a Black Brooder, and that’s why he deserves the title of "Best Color-Coded Character of the Year."

Most Popular Pair: Light x Dark

This award goes to the color-coded pair who were used the most in the year, number-wise.

The stats: The Black x White dynamic won in 2023 with 12 couples, but in 2024 this dynamic almost doubled by being used 22 times. No other color-coded pair came close.

The Best Light x Dark Couple: Myung Ha x Yeo Woon from Love for Love’s Sake perfectly represent why this dynamic is needed, yet it wasn’t clear why until midway through the series. Black Brooder Myung Ha was sent into a game to save Heavenly Human Yeo Woon, but as the story unfolded, we realized that Myung Ha was the one who needed to be saved by his Heavenly Human and for a very good reason which adds to his dark color. The colors were there the entire time, yet the reveal of why those were the colors still shocks me almost a year later.

The Outlier: Wandee Goodday

This award goes to a series that delivered a colored-coded pair that no other series did.

When this show was first announced, I was elated that I was getting a Yellow Yal x Purple Person pairing which had yet to be done, and my excitement only grew throughout its airing. Even though I didn’t get the proper color exchange I dreamed of at the end, the show had outstanding visual rhetoric (bunny x tiger, anyone?), and it gave me a pair comprised of complementary colors, so it deserves this award for doing something different, and doing it well.

Visual Rhetoric Awards

Honorable Mention - Peaceful Property

This award goes to a series that had a great visual narrative but could not be considered for these awards because it wasn't marketed as a QL (even though it's canon to me).

The show’s “Cok Long” sign alone would have received a visual rhetoric award, but the characters were also color coded and gay af. The dance pose for love. The steak in the shape of a heart. The food in general! Home dreaming of Peach in bed to comfort him. The tears and strings in the hospital tying them together. The stories about Thansai x Ride and Vicha x Phoom!!!! The color exchanges! This show used all the visuals to bury the lead, literally and figuratively, and dealt with people facing the ghosts who haunt them in an unexpected and tender way, so it was a show with a lot of heart and the visuals to back it up.  

Best Boundary/Barrier/Bars - My Stand-In

This award goes to a series that best displayed an internal conflict with a physical barrier between the two leads.

This show’s visual rhetoric skills were vicious. I was personally attacked every time Joe’s back was only shown. I was shaking in rage each time Joe and Ming were shown behind bars, with barriers between them, and with Joe being lower than Ming. But nothing hurt more than when Joe 2.0 finally gave into Ming, and we visually saw Joe’s body split in two. Previous to that moment, they were each standing on opposite sides of the line, then slowly, Ming pushed Joe against the glass leaving Joe exposed to the world, so he could focus on Joe’s back, and the line was right there to show us that nobody was fully in that moment. They were both in their bodies, yet out of them. They were in the present, but also in the past. They wanted this, and simultaneously were disgusted. They were conflicted, and that line cut right through them. And me.

Best Balance - Jack & Joker

This award goes to a series that best used the scene to outline the balanced dynamic between the leads.

In a hospital room, standing in between the light and dark curtains, next to the red couch and the blue bed, two color-coded boys hashed it out and showed the audience why balance is always needed in a relationship. Jack became darker because he shouldered everyone’s burdens, yet there was Joke begging Jack to let him carry some of his sorrow and relieve him of his darkness. Then, the black and white colors and those dual smiling/frowning faces were right there to reinforce what Joke was saying — We need Yin & War Yang.

Best Background (Noise) - Marahuyo Project

This award goes to a series that best used the background details to strongly reinforce the ongoing plot.

It was a story about sea creatures that beautifully connected to the overall queer theme of the story, and King (of the sea) wore several sea-themed items. The show also focused on trans acceptance and solidarity with all characters wearing the trans flag colors at one point in the show, and the use of butterflies to signify the harsh yet necessary transformation we must experience to become better versions of ourselves. Oh, and the religious icons! Basically, this show did not waste one moment of its screen time, and it’s a feast for the eyes because of it.

Best Use of Clothing - 7 Days Before Valentine

This award goes to the series that made the best use of clothing to show the evolving dynamic between the leads.

Sun, the main character, was 🎶The Worst🎶 when this story began. The show looked the audience in the face and said that man was the devil with his horns and black and red outfits. Then, an actual demon showed up, in white! After that, this demon took on more of Sun’s darkness as an act of salvation while the demon’s clothing transitioned from white to gray then black. In the end, the demon was actually an angel who needed to see that redemption was possible for his own sake. It was a story about how nobody is really good or bad and how people deserve a second chance, which was a consistent theme in most QLs this year, and beautifully highlighted in this show.

Colors Awards

Best Color Exchange - My Love Mix-Up (Thailand)

This award goes to a series where the leads were color coded and switching their colors demonstrated more than their love being mutual.

The original Japanese version of this show is one of the best color-coded BLs and features the best color exchange EVER in the form of a well-lit kiss, so I was watching the Thai version with a critical eye. The Thai show had the pink = love moments and other subtle visual rhetoric, plus it included the traditional color merge of Kongthap’s blue with Atom’s developing yellow into green which they both wore for their first kiss. The show was following all the normal steps, but at the very last moment, after the boys decided their love was worth the fight and came out to their parents in teary confessions, they met in the place it all began merging Kongthap’s blue and Atom’s strong orange into a couple’s brown and kissed, and I have never been happier seeing the color brown as a symbol of love.

Best Kiss - Only Boo!

This award goes to the series that best used a kiss to support the color narrative of the story.

This show had no competition in this category. Its only competition was itself. Every kiss either was color-coded, included the Blinding Light of Love, created a color exchange, formed a color merge, or was lit with the Pink = Love lighting. Every. Single. Kiss! So this award isn’t for just one kiss, but all the kisses in the series, but the grand kiss in the finale had the boys in their respective colors, kissing under a pink light, while their colors were part of the background decorations as everyone cheered around them, and It. Healed. Me.

Best Red (Thread of Destiny) - Unknown

This award goes to the series that best used the color red to symbolize two characters being connected by fate.

Century of Love, a story of lovers meeting again a century after tragically parting, gave Unknown good competition in this category, but ultimately the story of two kids finding family in each other and building a life together is the winner, and it’s all because of that damn red railing! The red was there when Qian fed Yuan on the street, and the moment Qian wrapped Yuan’s hands in the red boxing tape, he secured the bond between them. However, the scene where Yuan stood at the bottom of the stairs before leaving the house felt like the connection was severed as he walked out the door leaving a dark room behind only for the camera to slowly move up the red railing to reveal Qian standing at the top of the stairs looking at Yuan’s room. They were still connected, and I’m still emotional about it.

Best Pink - Bad Guy, My Boss

This award goes to the series that best used the color pink to demonstrate the love between two characters.

This was the most competitive category in 2024, and Deep Night with its pink poly dream held the top spot for most of the year until this ridiculous Wattpad BL entered the group chat and crushed everyone with this single shot. In the show, Run was basically being manipulated into a relationship with Fei Long for ~evil reasons~ that included an incarcerated brother, a ploy to gain more power, and an ex-boyfriend, yet the pink kept showing up around Run until it surrounded both of them. And it was the softest pink. It was slightly surprising that they did both genuinely love each despite the circumstances, but it was even more shocking just how kind that love actually was. They might have been crazy for that, but they were also crazy in love!

Best Rainbow - 1,000 Years Old

This award goes to the series with the best use of a rainbow.

Pun was a dark-color coded vampire, and Yo was the colorful human he fell in love with, yet Yo thought that Pun brought color to his life. Before Pun showed up, Yo was lost in the world chasing aliens with his friends, but once Yo encountered Pun at a pork blood soup stand, both their lives became filled with adventures that were revealed to be centuries in the making, and Pun’s rainbow umbrella symbolized the whimsical nature of their relationship. Both brought color to the other’s life. In every life.

Best Heart - 4 Minutes

This award goes to a series that best represented love by using a tangible item to symbolize a heart.

Color-coded boys in love deserve color-coded plushies to represent their love. Great was white-color coded, and Tyme was black-color coded, so when they went on their adorable arcade date, the color-coded cat plushies with hearts on their sides were the perfect prize to celebrate the guys’ developing feelings for each other. However, the date never really happened and instead was part of Great’s redo timeline as his heart was dying after being shot. And somehow, that made it even better! In his last moments, all Great wanted was for Tyme to keep winning his heart over and over again, and Great would have given it to him, again and again. In another life, he’d enjoy just playing a claw game with Tyme.

Best Accessory - Addicted Heroin (Thailand)

This award goes to a series that best used a color-coded accessory to support the ongoing plot.

Everything in this show was color coded from the cotton swabs to the nail clippers, but the series wins this award for The Audacity™. In any version of this story, Hero’s character is going to be batshit bananas, but in the Thai remake, the show decided to include color coding in the craziness. When Hero had Pop(py) kidnapped, Hero tied him up with color-coded green rope because even as Hero had taken his boyfriend hostage in the dumbest turn of event, he needed to prove he knew Pop’s color was green. But not only did Hero do that in the show, the folks behind the show, who seemed determined to be wilder than the show itself, started selling figurines of the moment! It’s meta, but like really bad, which means I LOVE IT!

Best Blinding Light (of Love) - Deep Night

This award goes to the series that best used a blinding light to emphasize the overwhelming feeling of being in love.

Deep Night had several amazing moments using the Blinding Light of Love, but Wela and Khem had liked each other since the first episode, so this moment visually presented what it felt like for them to realize it actually might be something more. They were nestled between the pink of the club lights with the window bathing them in the streetlight; then, the light from outside became blinding as Khem admitted to being jealous and wanting to be something more with Wela. It truly was the point Khem realized he was deeper than he thought, and for Wela to see that his feelings were real. It was a moment of lustful escape that turned into a moment of genuine love.

Best Lighting - The On1y One

This award goes to the series that best used lighting to support the story's narrative.

Using dark, cool lighting for the moon and bright, warm lighting for the sun are not new techniques, but the way The On1y One used those lighting treatments for its characters was a reminder that the professionals behind the scenes are truly experts in their field. In the first episode, Jiang Tian, the moon, emerged from the darkness of the street, and the warmth of Sheng Wang’s light cupped his face as he stood outside the gate. As they interacted, each retained their respective lighting, but slowly, slivers of the other’s lighting began to merge with their own until the audience could no longer tell where their individual light ended and the other’s began. And neither could the boys.

Best Cinematographer: Jim Picharn - I Saw You in My Dream, Jack & Joker

This award goes to the cinematographer who best supported the story through visuals without distracting from the ongoing plot.

In 2023, Jim of Dee Hup House was on the shortlist for this award due to him being the cinematographer for Thai BLs Step by Step, Hidden Agenda, and I Feel You Linger in the Air, and in 2024, he was back with I Saw You in My Dream and Jack & Joker. The reason he is getting this award now is because both his 2024 offerings looked completely different. Jim has a certain hazy and dreamy style to his cinematography which fit perfectly in I Saw You in My Dream’s narrative, but his style shifted to something harsher and a little bit grittier in Jack & Joker. There were still specific Jim elements in both pieces, but it was clearer how his style served the narratives in each story differently. Not only was it interesting to see, but it was also a beautiful addition to the stories being told in both shows, so I’m looking forward to what new visuals he will be gifting us with in 2025.

Best Surprise - The Trainee

This award serves as a catch-all for a series that delivered a color-coded surprise while still incorporating it well within the plot.

I am not egoistical enough to believe the folks behind these QLs are reading my little ol’ Tumblr blog, but I’m also not humble enough to rule it out as a possibility. Normally, I have to watch behind-the-scene specials, find translated interviews, or follow cinematographers’ and directors’ social media to get confirmation about colors, but in 2024, several shows simply posted the information on main! Two Worlds, Love is a Poison, Peaceful Property, and a few other shows openly stated how the colors were being used in the show, but The Trainee did the most and made graphics to announce the color coding of its characters and posted them on Twitter and Instagram! The graphics also featured key aspects of the characters’ personalities which aligned to their color. For eight weeks, I had been determined to prove that Jane was a loyal Blue Boy and Tae was a wise Brown Boy, and, magically, the show just looked at me one day and said I was right. I will never forget that rush, so in case someone who does work behind the scenes on these QL is reading my posts, thanks for the best present 2024 could have given me!

Best Group Effort - Pit Babe

This award goes to the series that best color coded a majority of its characters.

I watched this show with no sound, no subtitles, and no idea what the hell was happening. And yet the colors got me through! I might not have any clue who is the Alpha, Beta, or Santa Maria in this show, but I know who is red, blue, and royally evil because the colors were coloring the entire time! I cannot write more about this show because I still don’t really understand what it was about, but I am super excited to watch the second season the same exact way I watched the first — with the colors guiding me the whole way.

Best Consistent Color Coding - Chaser Game W

This award goes to the series that had the most consistent color coding throughout its run.

Two celestial maidens in a video game. Two penguins in a book. Two women in a toxic workplace romance. No matter what form the leads took in the show, they were color-coded in every version of their characters. They were part of the reason the Light x Dark pairing was the most popular in 2024, and in the first season, they exemplified that dynamic with kind Heavenly Human Itsuki being stuck working for her demanding Black Brooder ex-girlfriend Fuyu. Then, the second season gave us the women swapping clothes and colors as they became a more established couple. Even their daughter took part in the color-coded hijinks, and in the end, Itsuki and Fuyu found the balance in their work and their love life, together.  

Best Overall - Idol Factory

This award goes to the series that did it like nobody else to claim the ultimate prize.

I refuse to pit two bad bitches against each other, so that’s why both The Sign and The Loyal Pin get this award. And I’ll even throw the Factory’s third offering, My Marvellous Dream is You, into the mix because regardless of which show I write this about, Idol Factory gave me rainbows of colors every single time!

I didn’t just get the pink = 💕love💕lighting. I got the pink lighting getting more intense as the love between the two characters intensified.

I didn’t just get color-coded clothing. I got the patterns of the clothing showing each character’s personality, so when they started to swap patterns, it was obvious they were in love.

I didn’t just get color exchanges. I got color events with blinding lights of love, color exchanges, and color merges.

Basically, I got everything I wanted and more, so even though Idol Factory has only produced five shows, all of them have excelled in the colors and visual rhetoric department, and I’ll be patiently waiting for its 2025 (and 2026) shows to air because I know they will be visually stunning, as always.

Congrats, winners!

[right-there-ride-on]

Chronology of Major Gyjo moments (sources cited)

Gyro refuses to leave Johnny behind despite making it a point that he won't be slowed down by him

Chapter 14 - Across the Arizona Desert: Continuing on the Shortest Route

2) After being attacked, Johnny states the only one he trusts is Gyro

Also, early example of Johnny being willing to give the corpse up to save Gyro (even before Sugar Mountain!)

Chapter 27: Tusk (Part 3)

3) Gyro disobeying his father and familial tradition by giving in to his urge to save Johnny (and thereby fight like a 'true man' for what he wants)

Chapter 35: The True Man's World (Part 3)

4) Gyro putting his faith in Johnny to defeat their attacker. When Johnny thinks he's failed, he cradles Gyro's face and asks for forgiveness. (it's a major moment. to me)

Chapter 44: A Silent Way (Part 5)

5) Ok this one is just a little sus but I'm putting it in anyway: Gyro dreaming of that time he slept with one of his patients, only to immediately wake up and have a domestic scene with Johnny. For what purpose...?

Chapter 45: The Promised Land Sugar Mountain (Part 1)

6) Johnny gives up the corpse parts for Gyro (again), immediately followed by them drinking away their sorrows into the sunset. Who's doing it like them.

Chapter 48: Tubular Bells (Part 1)

7) Gyro finds the Golden Rectangle, previously described as, “… the foundation for every perfect structure for beauty" (Chapter 43: A Silent Way, Part 4) in Johnny eyes, and refuses to answer Johnny's question about where he's finding it. The implications of what Gyro thinks of Johnny's physical appearance are obvious.

Chapter 52: Wrecking Ball (Part 2)

8) Gyro sacrifices his hand, his only other point of reference for the Golden Rectangle, in order to save Johnny from a hit he probably could have tanked. Even Gyro looks a little surprised at himself... Also, they are all over each other this arc. Gyro is especially protective.

And, a little later:

Chapter 53: Wrecking Ball (Part 3)

9) Once it's revealed that Valentine intends to kill the rest of the racers (at least the ones who pose a threat to him), and makes an attempt on Johnny's life, Gyro attempts to convince Johnny to drop out, implying that he would drop out with him.

Of course, this is immediately followed by Johnny begging Gyro to, at the very least, help Lucy and see what she knows about the corpse parts. Seeing Johnny's distress at being so close to his goal only to have it snatched away from him convinces Gyro to stay in the race (something that will ultimately get him killed) and theorize how they can use the spin to defeat Valentine (via the stirrups). He tries to play it off but goddamn he is in love with him.

Chapter 72: Ticket to Ride (Part 2)

10) Shuiesha coloring may imply that Johnny is wearing Gyro's shirt beneath his own?? It's got the same collar and everything.

First appearance of this coloring choice is Chapter 63: 7 Days in a Week

11) Exchange of secrets no one else knows (they are each other's most important person!)

This panel in particular:

Chapter 76: D4C (Part 9)

12) And last but not least, thee set of chapter titles ever, in which Valetine attempts to bargain with Johnny to spare his life in return for bringing back Gyro. Johnny refuses, not because of any moral quandary about saving the life of an evil man, but because the Gyro brought back would not be the same. On top of that, he recognizes Valentine as a liar.

When it's all over, Johnny just breaks.

And that's the end of the chapter!

Chapters 88 and 89: Break My Heart, Break Your Heart (Parts 1 & 2)

13) Johnny's Goodbye (I like this scene more in b+w what can I say)

Chapter 95: The World of Stars and Stripes (Outro)

Obviously Johnny and Gyro have a lot of smaller moments too, but these are the ones that come to mind when I think of them!