#neither are any of the Core Four

[a-god-in-crime-alley]

So I’mma do a quick rant on Tim and the whole “forever 17” thing people are always going on about.

Disclaimer: some of this is based on my own experience with how I changed as I got older and comments from people that I went months and years without seeing.

I’m AFAB so it’s not quite the same. But I’ve never been one to remember a skin care routine and have relied on good genetics and good hygiene to make this point.

When doing some calculations for another post (you’ve probably seen that post I reblogged about the batkids ages) it hit me WHY it doesn’t look like Tim has aged.

Sure it might just be a style choice because DC wants to keep a chokehold on their Teen audience with Tim. (Even though Damian is RIGHT THERE!!! DC stop making Damian look like Tim for the love of GOD!)

A lot of people don’t actually CHANGE that much from ages 16-24 as long as they are keeping to the same exercise routines and diets. With the exception of Tim’s Brucequest, he kept to a fairly stable routine for Years!

The reason most people change so much early on is because they drop off their usual exercise (gym class) and repetitive diet (school or packed lunch). So you see people’s weight fluctuating (this can have an effect of visible face shape) hair either thinning or thickening and skin either clearing or getting more acne.

Add this to Tim probably having pretty good genetics (his mom looked like she was maybe pushing 30 when she died but was probably closer to mid 40s. Both Janet and Jack were around 10 years older than Bruce, who would have been mid 30s at the time.)

Tim not showing any signs of facial hair can also be down to genetics. Some cis men just NEVER get more than a single chin hair, maybe a max of 5 sparsely scattered along their chin. Those guys usually just pluck them out. They never actually have to shave. Though I think we Have seen Tim shaving again one point. Can’t remember when.

Either way, it makes sense for Tim not to actually look his age in any more than muscle mass. He’s noticeably built compared to how he was when Damian was introduced. (When the artists are going for a more realistic art style.)

Then considering his most recent dimensional adventure to save Bruce after the shit with Failsafe, you see just how much older he looks next to his mother (from that universe) and she didn’t seem that surprised with how he looked. Meaning her version of him is probably around the same age, and anyone who read that issue can see she looked pretty young.

Add all this to the fact it’s Canon that Jason is 23! He’s only at most 3 years older than Tim but is probably closer to 2 years older. (With Jason being 15 going on 16 when he died. And Tim was 12-13 by the 6 month mark after Jason died and Tim became Robin.)

So in conclusion, DC needs to stop acting like Tim’s still a Teenager and acknowledge that he’s a lot closer to 21 (hell, if we go by proper calculations he SHOULD BE 21).

What I’m saying is give us Tim going out for drinks with his older brothers. Have him show up at Jason’s after something bad happens and ask if he’s still up for that drink (in reference to that one time Jason offered to get a 16 year old Tim into a bar.)

Give us Funny Drunk Tim shenanigans to balance out that Dick is a miserable drunk! Have Jason get stuck babysitting both of them because he’s the only one that can actually hold his alcohol. Have the Girls be watching and laughing from across the bar because they unintentionally had their Girls Night and the same place the guys had their Boys Night.

Please DC, I am Begging you!

[eaturheartout2021]

Dominate Me

Second part to this

Summary: After a mission, reader is forced to confront Ghost about their little incident. Things get heated.

CW: knifeplay, mild cunnilingus, P in V, mild gagging, unprotected sex, man handling, possessiveness

Simon “Ghost” Riley x female!reader

Word count: 1.9K

It has been two weeks since the little stunt Ghost had pulled in the briefing room and he hadn’t mentioned it since. Neither had you. Thinking back to the heated look in his eyes as you came on just his boot alone made your core flare with desire but you pushed it down.

Gaz lightly bumped your shoulder with his shaking you out of your stupor.

“I’ll never understand how you can look at a bunch of zero’s and one’s to make out words. Bloody brilliant stuff.” He laughed holding a heavy tree limb for you to slip under. You returned the gesture and silently followed behind the trio.

“I’m not gonna lie, after the third day I couldn’t tell any numbers apart. I’m just glad it’s over. I need a shower and about 12 hours of sleep.” You groaned at the thought alone.

“Ye be lucky to get 3 or 4. Ye’re first watch lass.” Soap called back, adjusting his gear smiling wickedly at you.

You simply stuck up both middle fingers.

The safe house was nothing more than a two roomed shed with an outhouse across the way. No running water, no electricity, but it had a roof and four rolled up sleeping mats in the corner beside the fireplace. There was chopped wood neatly piled on top of each other and four ration packs along with bottled water. Laswell deserved the best head of her life for the way she treated you and the team, and you made a mental note to tell her wife.

Soap and Gaz went outside to run a perimeter while you and Ghost were on weapon detail. The unavoidable had come. 

Ghost immediately began stripping himself of his gear, taking the velcro straps and ripping harshly causing you to jump slightly at his sudden roughness. The vest thudded to the floor along with his tac belt and coms. Soon, leaving him in just an obscenity tight-fitting long sleeve tan shirt, his mask, and jeans.

“You were reckless. Ya know that?” He was angry, livid actually. His hands were drawn into fists at his sides while he peered down where you sat on the floor reloading a pistol clip.

“How was I reckless? I got the job done didn’t I? We were running out of time and we needed that data file.” You shrugged your shoulders avoiding his gazed and continued to refill the half empty clip.

“You tripped the alarms system. I had to kill-off 6 of Makarov’s men just to get to ya.” He closed the space between you, his hulking frame shadowed yours.

“I didn’t even want to think about what they would’ve done if they had got to ya before I did.” You had to look away from his face, his eyes full of genuine fear. It made your heart twang with guilt.

You glanced down to your stilled hands holding the now full clip and just beyond stood his boots. Those damned boots. You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you looked anywhere but his feet and apparently he caught on. He took the smallest step forward and slid his foot under your knee and lifted.

He pulled your leg to the side making you sit with one leg out straight and the other bent up. Your breath was racing out of you as you glanced up at him, up his long muscular leg, up his strong thick thighs, to his now very prominent bulge sporting in the front of his pants, to his heaving chest, all the way up to his blown out eyes that were practically undressing you.

“I believe ya need to be punished for making such a fuss.” His voice was thick with lust, it was almost suffocating. He knelt down and picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and gave your ass a quick and hard slap. You let out a little gasp and tried to wriggle out of his grip causing two more to land right onto the first.

“Stay still.” It was an order. One you’d quickly obey. He hauled you into one of the two rooms the small space had to offer and quickly unrolled the mats and placed you down. Without warning, he flipped you over, stomach down. The metallic scrape of a knife opening was all you heard before you began to panic. Looking back, Ghost softly pushed your face back down covering your eyes.

“Do ya trust me?” His voice caressed your skin causing goosebumps to leaving in their wake.

“With my life.” It was a whisper but it was all he needed before he used his knife to slice up the leg of your pants leaving your delicate skin intact. You let out a shaky breath trying to settle yourself when the cold blade touched your lower back.

Your pants were merely hanging by a thread, leaving you in just your underwear, a pretty pastel blue. A deep groan sounded behind you as a hand cupped your cheeks and squeezed hard.

“Although these are absolutely stunnin love. They have to go.” The knife tugged at the hem of your underwear before an audible rip met your ears. Your ass was completely exposed to him, his hands cupping each mound roughly and spreading ever so slightly just to see how soaked you were from absolutely nothing at all.

He took your soaked, ripped underwear and tucked them into his pocket causing you to let out a sharp gasp.

“You are not keeping those!” His eyes crinkled up in a smirk.

“I suppose you’re gonna stop me?” He took a free hand a slid it between your legs, dipping into your soaked folds. You let out a soft moan, letting your head fall back onto the mat hips rolling into his fingers.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Smug bastard.

He let your rolling hips send a finger to your entrance and delving deep. A sharp gasp left your lips and his guttural groan mirrored yours.

“So tight f’me. Hadn’t had anyone to keep ya open?” He quickly added a second all the way down to the knuckle. You silently shook your head, unable to form words. Ghost stopped and took away his hand, you shot up your head looking back at him just as he landed yet another quick smack to your ass.

“Words, love. Use ‘em.” Your head was fuzzy with pleasure, skin buzzing with anticipation.

“No sir.” It was hardly a whisper. The desperation you felt for Ghost to place his fingers back inside you was overwhelming. The absentmindedly rocking your hips made caused Ghost to glance down, slowly trace your puffy slicked lips and tease. A high whine built in the back out your throat but Ghost grabbed the back of your neck causing you to stop immediately.

“Wouldn’t want the lads to hear us would ya? Be a good girl f’me yeah?” He held a single finger over his covered lips while his other hand went back to your folds and immediately shoving their way inside. He made way for three digits and worked his way through you like no man has ever before.

You had to bite your forearm just to keep quiet like he asked, small quiet whimpers escaped every now and then while his whispered praises caressed your senses.

“Sound so sweet like this. Gonna come on fingers lovie?” He was slightly hovering over you at this point. You were gasping, rutting back on his fingers, down onto the mat below to get friction to your abandoned clit. He knew you were so close.

Right as you were about to tumble over the edge, he pulled away from you, completely stepping away.

“What the actual fuck Ghost?” Your eyes were brimming with tears, with frustration. You rolled onto your back to face him and he was slowly unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper.

“Only way you’re coming is on my cock. Understood? ‘M not gonna be easy. This is your punishment doll.” Without another word he slipped out his cock and your mouth went dry. He was absolutely massive, you were kind of concerned how it was all going to fit honestly.

Ghost grabbed your leg and slid you down to meet him causing a small yelp to make its way out. He looked down at you as he slid the mask up just enough to expose his chin and lips as he started to kiss down from your stomach, to your hip bones, down to your sopping lips where he licked a fat stripe up and sucking briefly onto your clit. A strangled moan filled your lungs and your hands went flying to grab the fabric of his mask.

You rolled your hips deeply into him and he took everything you gave him. When he pulled away his chin glistened with your slick and a wicked grin flashed across his scared lips.

He reached down to fist his neglected and weeping cock. He lined up the swollen tip with your entrance and without any warning, grabbed both your hips and thrusted his way in. Immediately he set a brutal pace, folding your legs over his shoulders to get even deeper inside.

You were falling apart. Gasping, moaning, whining all the while Ghost abused your insides relentlessly. He looked down at you and groaned, quickly fishing into his pocket to pull out your ruined underwear before shoving them into your mouth.

“I said quiet.” His voice was rough and blissed out. His hips rolling in constant waves meeting your hips with obscene squelches. You weren’t going to last another second. You grabbed onto his arms rocked into his thrusts.

That’s when he bent you in half, pulling your underwear from your mouth and connecting his mouth with yours. The new angle had his cock hitting spots inside you that you never knew existed. He grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged causing your to look at him.

“No one else. Ever again.” His thrusts started to become more aggressive, deeper. “Only f’me. Say it.”

“S’yours! S’yours!” You cried as you came the hardest you ever have in your life. Tears flowing out of the corners of your eyes as he connected his forehead with yours and thrusted twice more and came deeply with an animalistic roar.

He road out his high before he slowly stopped and rolled to the side of you. He didn’t say a word as he pulled you close and cradled your head to his chest. You wrapped your legs with his and settled into a comfortable silence.

“Y’really scared me. Don’t do stupid shit like that again. M’ serious.” He whispered and you knew he meant it. You nodded your head and was about to apologize when a soft knock came from the door outside.

“Is it safe ta come awa in?” Soap asked hesitantly. You looked at Ghost in mortification, face flushing white.

“No, Johnny.” Ghost looked down at you a smiled wickedly.

“You knew they were outside?” You sat up grabbing the scraps of your shredded pants to try and cover yourself. Ghost just shrugged and tucked his arms under his head and closed his eyes.

“Lt, we’ll give you a few to get put together. C’mon Tav.” Gaz said and their snickering giggles faded as they walked away from the door.

“Price is going to kill us.” You said as you laid back down beside Ghost who pulled you back close beside him.

“Probably. Only because you still never turned in those briefing notes he asked for.” He smiled as you cursed loudly and threw your hands into the air.

This was soooo much fun to write!! I really hope you guys love part 2 as much as I do! As always my requests are open so feel free to send me any ideas you have and I’ll try to make them happen! I really hope you enjoyed ❤️

[jj-one]

you asked for hard thoughts so i felt the need to pull through 😌😌

ik this is probably a popular thing, but jisung in literally any public/semi public setting. the initial hesitation before the horniness wins out?? feral.

pulling him into a bathroom without any warning? pushing him into a camera booth at the mall and planting yourself on his lap? letting your hand creep far to high on his thigh when no one is looking? yes. yes please.

ANYWAYS THATS MY THOUGHTS OK THANK YOU BYEEEEE 🫶🫶

one thing about me is i love public sex specifically bc of the elements of it being risky and making sure not to get caught so ily for this 🤭 anyways let’s goooo

jisung’s most definitely not the strongest soldier when it comes to being able to resist you— especially when you’re the one continuously provoking him. he notices everything. from your small touches here and there to the side glances you keep making every so often, it pushes him to a point of no return. it makes his head spin. and all he wants is to bury his cock so deep in you until neither of you can think a single thought anymore.

you knew exactly what you’re doing, too. the way you giggle at nothing, fingers trailing along his arm like you’re testing just how far you can go. the way you press a little closer every time you two walk past a store window, pretending to glance at something inside, but it’s him you’re watching in the reflection. his jaw tightening. eyes narrowing. the growing tension in his frame each time your hand almost brushes his belt.

so, really, it should be no surprise when he yanks you into the photo booth at the far end of the mall, drawing the curtain closed with shaky fingers, the low hum of the screen flickering to life just as you land in his lap. the confined space is barely wide enough to hold you both, and yet, you manage to straddle him with ease, your knees pressing into the bench, thighs caging him in like you planned this.

“you’re unbelievable,” he mutters, breath warm against your neck, voice caught between disbelief and pure hunger. his hands already gripping your sides, holding you down against him like you might float away otherwise. you only smile, that wicked little curve of your lips that makes his cock twitch in his jeans, and let your hand creep far too high on his thigh. knuckles brushing the outline of his hardening length, slow enough to make him shiver.

“and yet you’re doing nothing to stop me.”

jisung hisses between his teeth, head falling back briefly against the booth wall as you palm him fully. one arm fastened around your waist while the other fumbles to tap “start” on the booth screen, pretending you’re just two sweethearts taking goofy photos. four flashes. that’s all you get. four timed photos to act like you’re normal, like you’re not pressed against his bulge, grinding slow and heavy, mouthing at his neck like it’s a private room instead of a public setup tucked behind the food court.

but his hips buck up the moment your grip tightens, and suddenly you’re rolling your hips in his lap like you’ve forgotten you’re still technically out in public.

“you keep that up,” he growls low, lips dragging across your jaw, feeling hotter as his tongue flicks the shell of your ear, “and m’gonna make you sit here dripping while we walk out of this damn mall.”

you only hum in response, leaning in like you want that. like you want to push him to the edge, right here where anyone could walk past and pull that curtain aside. you kiss him deep and slow, not sweet— completely feral. tongue sliding into his mouth, moaning low as your body rocks harder into his.

he groans into the kiss, fingers digging into your ass now, shifting you just right so your clothed core presses straight into his zipper. “f-fuck, baby,” he gasps, voice barely holding steady. “you’re gonna make me ruin these jeans.”

you tilt your head innocently, lips brushing his cheek now, and whisper like the little minx you are, “so don’t wait.”

and when the third photo snaps, you’re both already too far gone— half-lidded eyes, flushed cheeks, your hips grinding with intention now. anyone walking by would think it’s just a couple being a little too handsy.

but inside that curtain, jisung’s losing it. and you? you’ve never looked more satisfied than when he’s unraveling underneath you.

[bandydear]

now that i've had a sleep and a think about my core problem with the series, it boils down to two things: it's a fake ensemble, and there aren't enough episodes.

these two issues exacerbate each other.

Dexter, a Showtime original, had 12 episodes during its run. Yellowjackets has 9-10 and just the additional 2-3 episodes would really help with allowing moments in the series to breathe. ideally, it would be a 22 episode series. that would give so much more time to breathe, explore mysteries, and have characters ACTUALLY TALK TO EACH OTHER

just in season 3 we had: - only misty mourning natalie and very little legal or emotional fallout from that - lottie's death also having very little legal or emotional fallout - VAN SITTING DOWN WITH SIMONE TO HAVE A CONVERSATION FINALLY AND THEN NOT HAVING ONE - a four month timeskip in the teen timeline now yellowjackets is technically an ensemble, but it's starring Shauna. back in season one, it actually felt like an ensemble, because we were seeing Taissa's homelife and the fallout of her actions affecting them. we had Misty, and Nat's home lives. they don't have spouses, reputations, or children to care for so they're more "free" to operate as they did in the wilderness. Natalie as the hunter, Misty as the wild card. having four mains--two deeply seated in society, and two living on the fringes of it is fun and dynamic tension. adding Lottie and Van in season two still played on those. Lottie has created a new society all on her own to live in, and Van has decided to trap herself in time, creating a safe time cave to protect herself from integrating into society again. neither of them are paying taxes. if the thesis statement of the show is: THEY CAN NEVER GO BACK then this is a good way to show how each of them avoid doing that. Tai and Shauna's lives exploding because THEY CAN NEVER GO BACK makes thematic sense.

but, it doesn't feel earned. important conversations that should be long scenes are turned into throwaway lines or brief phone calls. as the show races on, it becomes PLOT, PLOT, PLOT, with no moment for characters to stop and react and talk about what's happened.

we don't see Van and Tai discuss Coach having caught them at school, and then talking about what it would be like to be a couple out in the world (triggering Taissa's fears which pay off with her not wanting to go back later). in season two, after a whole season of disagreeing! Lottie and Nat seem to have finally align, only for that alliance to shatter with one line? "This can't be fixed with therapy, Nat!" with no further follow up from ether before Nat's death. no arguing? why did Van look at Lottie as god made flesh only for them to have zero private adult conversations?

these are great characters! we care about these characters! we want to see more of them actually fucking talking to each other, but the velocity of characters needing to get from point a-z mows down any moments for introspection--EXCEPT SHAUNA'S STORYLINE. we have long discussions between Melissa and Shauna--interactions that TAKE TWO WHOLE EPISODES and that's why it doesn't feel fair or earned. Tai gets like 30 minutes of screentime, Van even less, and Shauna's whole family gets monologue time? it's not an ensemble! it's the Shauna Show, but for the folks who've gotten attached to everyone else, it doesn't feel fair or earned. I don't give a fuck about Jiff.

anyway, no fixing it now

[blushsturns]

𝜗𝜚 can you get off from just matt sucking on your tits?

title: needy

warnings: f!receiving, m!receiving, grinding, use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart, doll), fingering, handjob, titty play, degrading (if you squint), pure filth!

word count: 3866

There was something about being in Matt’s lap as you straddle his waist, your hips coming in contact with his hardened bulge against your hot core that drove you absolutely crazy. You don’t know what had gotten into you, but you were feeling extra needy tonight and after hours of waiting for Matt to finish streaming with Nick and Chris, you couldn’t wait any longer. You were so close to getting between his legs and sucking him off while he tries to focus on his game, but you knew better than that. You almost cried in relief when Matt finally turned off the stream and took off his headphones. You had caught him sneaking glances at you, without trying not to get too distracted from the game, and all you were doing is laying on your stomach on your shared bed with your shirt raised up and your pretty ass cheeks swallowed by 

Here you were now, perched onto Matt’s knee and rubbing yourself up against him in only one of his oversized tees and your lacy panties covering your already slick arousal. You could feel his hardened cock twitching immensely against your core through the fabric of his sweatpants.

Your breathing was becoming more rapid as the seconds passed, your heart was already beating straight out of your chest from the exhilaration running through you. 

Matt groaned as you continued to rut your hips against his hardened bulge and using it to your own pleasure and satisfaction. You couldn’t help it; you were so damn needy and needed him in all the ways he was willing to give you. 

Both of your eyes locked together in an intense gaze, his strong, larger hands placed against your hips to hold your body in place as you rolled your hips onto him causing both of your moans to mix together and echo throughout the four walls surrounding you. Your panties were damp already, leaving a wet spot on the front and seeping through onto Matt’s sweatpants. Neither of you cared; it was actually quite a turn on to see how turned on you get for him. 

“Fuck, you needy little thing.” Matt breathed out through labored pants, his hands moving up underneath your oversized tee shirt and running his fingers along your bare skin causing an immediate shudder to run down your spine at his touch. “You just couldn’t wait for me to finish streaming could you? You just had to act like a little slut, making it hard for me to concentrate on my game with you right behind me, looking gorgeous and sexy as fuck knowing damn well what you were doing, didn’t you?”

You whimpered at his words, rolling your hips against him and gasping softly at the friction between his hardened cock and your needy, dripping core. You nodded your head at his words, moving your arms to wrap them around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to your body. Your hand moved up into his hair, your fingers running throughout his tousled locks and gave them a gentle tug causing a groan to escape his lips. “I can’t help it, baby. Hearing you groan and cuss in frustration.. reminds me what you sound like when you’re pounding into me rough, and deep, just the way I like it.” Your words were filled with need, want, lust. You wanted him more than ever and you were getting needier and needier by the second.

He growled at your words which only seemed to turn you on even more and without saying another word, he pressed his lips against yours in a deep, passionate kiss causing you to gasp in surprise. He moved his hands to cup your jaw with a bit of force, his thumbs digging into your cheekbones as your eyes fluttered closed and immediately pressed your lips back onto his hungrily, a soft moan muffling against them.

Your fingers tug onto his hair to pull his head impossibly closer to you, your lips moving together in perfect unison. You could feel his cock continuing to pulse and twitch against your clothed core, your slick arousal practically dripping inside of your panties and against Matt’s thigh.

He moved one of his hands away from your jaw to your neck to wrap his fingers around it in a firm grip, causing you to gasp out against the kiss. Your lips moved together hungrily and the taste of his lips on yours only drove you more insane, making you want him even more. He traced his tongue along your bottom lip, begging for entrance which you gladly accepted and parted your lips to collide your tongue with his almost immediately. 

Your tongues moved together messily, battling for dominance before he began to suck on your tongue causing a slight moan to escape from your lips against his mouth as you rut your hips forward into his hardened crotch. 

Kissing Matt was like the first time every single time. He knew what to do, and how to do it. Your body was on fire, your heart was racing quick, and butterflies roamed in your tummy from the feeling of his lips on yours, and his tongue in your mouth. You could feel yourself growing more wet in your panties, and fuck it was driving you insane how much you needed him. 

He was the first one to pull away, both of you breathless and gasping for air. That didn’t stop him from pulling his hand away from your neck and moving both of his hands underneath your shirt, running his fingers up and down your bare sides as he began peppering kisses to your jawline and down to your neck and against your collarbone. 

The feeling of his lips against your skin made your body tingle all over and your heart to continue to race rapidly in your chest. Your head tilted back to give him more access to your neck, a soft whimper leaving your lips as his tongue traces against your collarbone and towards the base of your neck, leaving love bites behind for a story only the two of you will share. You loved being covered in love bites by Matt, it was a little reminder that you were his and no one else’s. Your fingers threaded through his tousled hair and tugged onto a fistful of his hair as he continued to suck, lick, and nibble against your skin. 

“Matt..Please.” You whimpered out desperately, pushing your hips forward into him and biting gently onto your own bottom lip which still had Matt’s taste lingering against it. Your slick arousal coated your panties and against his sweatpants. You swore you never been more turned on in your entire life, your body buzzing with electricity and exhilaration. 

His hands caressed your bare sides before gripping your hips tightly to push your body up against his even more. The pad of his thumbs pressed into your hip bones, moving slow, lazy circles against your skin and causing a drawn out moan to escape from your lips. “Such a needy girl, aren’t you, sweetheart? What do you need, hm?” His words were velvety smooth, filled with desire and need. He slowly lifted your shirt up over your head and allowing it to fall onto the ground, revealing your plump, pretty breasts to him. Your nipples were already hard, sending a cold sensation to brush against them and a shudder to run down your spine. 

You gasped softly as his fingers immediately traced over your hardened nipples, his thumb and index fingers tweaking the nubs between his fingers, causing a louder moan to escape your lips and an instant gush of wetness to pool in your panties. You fucking loved your nipples being played with, and Matt knew that.

Whether they were being played with, pinched, or sucked on, you fucking loved it and it turned you on immensely. Matt was aware, loving the way your head falls to your shoulder and your face full of bliss and pleasure, your lips parted with the sweetest little moans falling from them. It was like music to ears and he swore he could get off just from seeing you receive the pleasure he gives you. 

You roll your hips along his knee to grind against it, the friction of his knee rubbing against your soaking wet and needy pussy only causing you to moan out some audible sounds, sounding needier than ever. “Matt..” His name falling from your lips as you gasp softly when you feel him lean forward to begin flicking his warm tongue along your hardened bud and swirling it around before immediately latching his lips against it, sucking onto it like his life depended on it, a muffled moan escaping his lips. You gasp softly as you only rut your hips against his knee even messier, moving your arms to wrap lazily around his neck, your fingers finding fistfuls of his hair and tugging onto it to push his face closer to your breast.

“Hm? I can’t hear you.” He pulled away from your breast to speak, his lips curving up into a devious smirk as he looks up at you, his ocean blue eyes had darkened, clouded with lust and desire. He used his free hand to grope your other breast, his thumb circling along the hardened bud. “I need to hear what you need, sweetheart. What is it that you need? Tell me or I won’t do anything.”

You practically groaned in desperation, your pussy drooling with your own arousal and clenching around absolutely nothing as you roll your hips against his sweatpants. You moved one of your hands down in between your bodies and lifted your hips slightly so you can help pull his sweatpants down just enough to allow his cock to spring free and instantly moaning at the sight of his hardened cock, the pink shiny tip glistening with pre-cum. Your hand immediately wrapped around his cock and squeezed the base, causing a groan to erupt from Matt’s throat. 

Your body was shaking with adrenaline and desperation, heat pooling in your tummy and your heart beating rapidly in your chest. He tilted his head onto his shoulder, constant groans leaving his lips as you continued to pump his cock in your palm, your thumb circling along the glistening tip before pulling your hand away to bring your thumb up between your lips and immediately taking it past your lips for a quick taste. The delectable, satisfying taste made your taste buds go crazy, closing your eyes as you take in the sweet taste, a soft moan escaping from your needy lips. 

You open your eyes to see Matt staring at you so intently like he could eat you in seconds if you’d let him, and God you wanted him to right this very second. You brought both of your hands back to place against his shoulders to hold yourself up to keep yourself stradling on his waist. “Need you in all the ways, baby. Please. I can’t take it anymore. Need you so badly.” You moan out in desperation, biting gently onto your bottom lip, tasting him still on your own lips. 

He moved his hand between the both of you and immediately found your soaking wet, throbbing clit and began to rub you through your lacy, completely soaked panties. “Fuck, you’re literally drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He moaned out in approval, moving forward to pepper kisses against your jawline, his tongue tracing along your sweet skin and causing your head to roll back against your own shoulder as you press your hips into his hand. You were so needy at this point, so desperate, and willing to take anything that he was willing to give you. Absolutely anything. 

His finger practically slipped into your slick pussy without even moving your panties out of the way, as they were completely drenched at this point. You swore you had never been more soaking wet in your entire life, but you weren’t complaining, and obviously neither was Matt. 

Matt fucking loved eye contact, especially during intimate times like this. He kept his eyes on you the whole time as his finger found place deep inside of your cunt, immediately hearing the way it squelched against his single digit and feeling it clench. He let out a moan of approval, licking over his lips in a hungry motion as his eyes fall down to between your bodies as you begin to rut your hips against his finger buried in your cunt as he began to thrust in and out your tight pussy, going deeper within each and every thrust. “Oh..fuck.” You gasped out in pleasure, your heart beating rapidly in your chest and sweat glistening against your forehead and pooling into your hairline as you throw your hair over your shoulder to get it our of your way.

You rode his singular finger, his palm cupping your entire center and brushing against your clit with each and every movement. His cock twitched against your thigh as you rubbed yourself against him, heat radiating off your body and onto him. He used his strong grip to rip your panties from off you, causing you to gasp as the shredded material fell to the ground. 

Watching Matt be truly in his element was such a turn on and you needed him desperately. Your slick arousal was coating his bare leg as you pushed your hips into him, immediately gasping out loud as you felt him slip his ring finger inside of you, motioning the “come- hither” with both of his fingers now deep inside of your cunt. 

Your cunt was filled with his fingers, immediately clenching around them as he began to thrust them in and out of your tight hole, his palm cupping your pussy as the sounds of your wet pussy squelches around his long, slender fingers. “Fuck fuck fuck!” You moan out in pure ecstasy, your tits bouncing nearly in Matt’s face as you continue to rut your hips against his lap. His cock twitched immensely against your thigh as you moved your hand down to wrap your fist around his leaking, throbbing cock and began to pump him at the same pace as his fingers were moving inside of you. 

“God, you look so fucking pretty f’me, don’t you, doll? Taking my fingers deep inside this tight little cunt. It’s like your cunt was made for me, wasn’t it, sweetheart?” His words were thickened with lust and desire as he peppered kisses against your collarbone and moving his lips further down to the top of your breasts, running his tongue along your sweet skin. Your body shuddered at his words and the feeling of his tongue against your skin. 

You rode his fingers like it was your full time job, putting in the work and effort to get the job done, but the bonus was it made you feel so fucking good and you didn’t want it to end. His palm created friction against your throbbing clit with each and every movement of his fingers deep inside of you. Your cunt swallowed his fingers perfectly and squelching with each and every thrust. 

“Tell me, doll.” Matt said with a bit of sweetness in his voice, looking up at you as he grabs your plump breast and flicks his tongue over your hardened nipple once again. “Tell me this cunt is mine. Tell me that no one else has ever, and will ever make you feel this good, but me. This cunt is all f’me. isn’t it, doll?”

You nodded your head instantly as you listened to him speak, incoherent moans falling from your lips as he begins to suck onto your hardened bud, his tongue flicking around it repeatedly as he continues to stare up at you. You continue to ride his fingers as they only dive deeper into your tight, wet cunt, your hand trying desperately to keep up with pumping his throbbing hard cock, but all you could seem to focus on was your pleasure, as selfish as that was.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. His attention was solely focused on you and making sure you feel good and finally getting you to cum.

But then he pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to immediately whine out desperately at the loss of contact, rutting your hips against his leg and crying out, “Matty, why did you do that?” You almost were on the brink of tears, your face flushed and your body shaking tremendously. “More. Need it.”

He let out a laugh, immediately bringing his fingers that were coated in your juices to his own lips and sucking them clean while moaning in satisfaction at the delectable taste. “Gonna make you cum just from me sucking on your nipples and playing with ‘em, baby. Think you can do that?” 

You’ve never done it before, but Matt knew how soaking wet you got just from him paying full attention to your tits. He loved playing with them and sucking on them and honestly, you loved watching him do it. That alone could probably get you to cum in seconds.

You were already so damn close to your orgasm, your pussy dripping your arousal against his leg. Your hand moved up and down his shaft, feeling it twitch against your fist as your thumb circled the shiny tip, repeating the same motion as you watched Matt’s eyes roll back to his head, pleasure filling his entire body from your hand alone.

“Fuck, keep doing that while I suck on your pretty tits, baby. Wanna see you make a mess on my thigh.”

Your body was shaking and glistening with sweat and all you could focus on was Matt now giving his full attention to your tits, sucking onto your nipple while his pointer finger and thumb tweaked the other hardened bud. You were such a slut for nipple play, you loved it so much and Matt seemed to love sucking on your tits just as much, if not more.

Matt licked, sucked, and nipped your hardened nipple, his eyes staying locked onto yours the entire time as you pushed your pathetic, desperate hips onto his lap, your slick arousal creating a wet patch on the sheets below and down his leg and he moaned against your nipple as he rolls his tongue along it. 

You looked down to watch him in his element; his lips latching around your nipple like he was made specifically for this, just to pleasure you and get you to cum. 

Your hand wrapped around his aching cock harder, squeezing him with each and every tilt of your wrist, your thumb circling along the leaking, shiny pink tip. Your hand movement was sloppy, but Matt didn’t seem to notice, or care given his moans we’re only growing louder against your flesh, rutting his own hips up against your hand. 

He paid attention to your other nipple, giving it the same attention as the other, sucking and licking the hardened bud along his tongue which his fingers pinched the other, causing your body to shake with pleasure rolling through you, mewling out desperate whines that echoed the four walls before you, your hand sloppily pumping his hardened cock as it twitched immensely, signaling he was close, just like you were.

The feeling of your sopping wet pussy grinding against his leg and the feeling of mouth on your tits was too much to bare. “G-gonna cum, baby! Fuck!” You cried out desperately, throwing your head back onto your shoulder and rolling your hips along his lap.

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum all over me like the good girl you are. Just from me sucking on your tits, huh? Pathetic little slut.” He sucked onto your nipple, rolling his tongue along it and flicking it repeatedly, his eyes staying locked onto yours the entire time.All it took was Matt’s encouraging words and the final permission for him to let you cum and you tipped over the edge. 

Loud moans spilled from your lips as the pressure snapped and you allowed your orgasm to take full control of your body while rutting your hips up into Matt and dripping your well deserved arousal against his leg and spilling on the bed sheets before you. Your body shook with pleasure with a shudder running down your spine and electricity shooting through your veins. Your breathing was labored as you tried to breathe properly, your vision hazy from the intense orgasm that just rippled through you. You could feel your sweet slick against his thigh, your hips coming to a halt as you finished riding out your orgasm. 

“Fuck, baby.” Matt moaned out, watching you the entire time in complete and utter awe. “So fucking good f’’me.” He pulled away from your now overly sensitive nipples, rutting his hips up into your hand, his eyes now gazing down before you both, looking at the mess you made on his thigh, his lips curving into a devious smirk. “So good f’me. Can you be a good girl and make me cum, hm?”

You nodded your head immediately to his words, a soft moan leaving your lips as you put your attention solely onto Matt and making sure he reaches his orgasm. Your hand picks up the pace, squeezing and twisting your hand against his shaft as you pump his cock repeatedly, squeezing him fully as your thumb continues to circle along the tip. He immediately groans in pleasure, throwing his head back against his shoulder and pushing his hips up into your hand. 

He fucks your hand, his breathing growing quicker and his moans becoming louder. “Fuck, gonna cum. Just like that, sweetheart. Yes, so good.” He hissed his words out before eliciting another loud groan, pushing his hips up into your hand as you squeeze his cock and immediately gasping in surprise as his cum shoots out in white, sticky ropes against his abdomen and yours, and all over your hand as he fucks your hand through his intense orgasm, your name falling from his lips. 

You loved watching Matt cum, especially knowing you could get him to feel like this. He waited a couple seconds before opening up his eyes to look down at the mess he made against the both of you, a lazy smirk appearing onto his lips. “Fuck, and all of this started because you were such a needy little thing.”

You flashed him a proud smile before taking your cum coated fingers and bringing them to your lips, instantly placing them between your lips and taking in the sweet taste of his cum. You licked over your lips once you pulled your fingers out, leaning forward to press a sweet, soft kiss against his lips so he can taste himself on your lips. 

He moaned against the kiss, kissing you back fully and deeply, a smirk still evident on his face as he pulled away, your forehead resting against his. “You like it though, hm?”

“Fucking love it, and you, my needy girl.”

You were his needy girl, and damn proud of it.

notes: first smut that i wrote in awhile. i hope you enjoyed this. if you have any requests or just wanna chat, my inbox is always open!

taglist:

@strangelife122 @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @xclusivedesires @mattsplaything @mattsbunnyxx @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissweetheart @slutformatt17 @sturnl0ve @pasteldreams @h3arts4harry @marrykisskilled @wh0remikasas @sturnzslut @camzeecorner @alesturniolos @emely9274 @2muchofaslvt @sturnslux3 @bowsandsturniolos @moustacherryismyhusband @rafesapprentice @ivysturnss @headzgonewest @il0vey0um0st @violetstxrniolo777 @bigbeefybitch @raesturns @courta13 @sofieeeeex @tylerthecreatorsglazr @kittyyyyykats @sturniszn @estellesdoll @freshsturnzx @ivyyyyyysposts @sturnberries @sturniolochrismatt @lovesturni0l0s

-nessa

[bangaveragewhitewine]

⋆⁺₊❅ the snow ball

teacher!Steve Harrington x teacher!Reader 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: My second fic for @littlexdeaths The Twelve Days of Promptmas takes us back to 1996. At the annual Snow Ball Dance, Girl Power is supreme and the English teacher is standing very close to Mr H… 

Content: The tension is high. 90’s nostalgia, teacher puns and passing notes. Redefinition of the word nemesis, now to be read as ‘that one colleague you have a lethal crush on’ (the girls who get it, get it)

✨bang average festive fics✨ Steve Harrington masterlist ✨

December 1996

The opening bars of Wannabe are cut by the sound of thirty-odd teenage girls squealing with excitement as they crowd onto the dancefloor in threes and fours. The too-cool-to-dance girls bop and bounce their heads, the popular girls perform like they are at home in their bedroom mirrors or the Superbowl Half-Time Show. Geeky and quiet girls sparkle joyfully under the disco ball, any lack of confidence forgotten by utter glee. Girl Power reigns supreme over Meadow Hill Middle School as the world-ending pettiness and hormonal squabbles of thirteen and fourteen-year-olds are soothed and solved by the bouncy vocals and practiced choreography. 

You watch the boys stand and stare from the sidelines, buoying each other up as they whisper about who they might ask to dance with later and playing down their nerves. You have seen first love and first heartbreak tonight, watching Andi Cooper sway with Brian W to Always Be My Baby as Danny D looked on with tears in his eyes. Poor kid. 

“D’you think they’ll riot if Just A Girl comes on next?”

Your head tilts back against the streamer-covered wall behind you and you can’t help a little smirk at the thought of Female Revolution fuelled by Gwen Stefani and the Spice Girls. 

“Mm, imagine the headlines. Ballroom Blitz - Meadow Hill reduced to ruins by festive female rage.”

He laughs and places a cup of punch into your hand, keeping an appropriate distance between your bodies as you survey the Snow Ball in full swing. 

“And that’s why you’re the English teacher. Such a way with words.” 

“Mm, nice use of sarcasm, Mr Harrington. Gold star.” 

The punch is not spiked, but your words sound a little barbed to the unfamiliar ear. All part of the fun. 

Speaking of the punch, there’s a hipflask in his jacket, full of some strong spirit that he will share with you once the kids have been picked up, while the DJ is packing away his kit. 

“Thanks, you’ve taught me well...” 

You look up, meeting his cocoa-coloured eyes, caught staring. His tone is less barbed, more sincere, and when he says your name - your teacher name - you feel fizzy and warm all over. 

Steve feels it too, a swirling spiralling drag low in his gut. 

It’s fleeting, too quick and far too much for where you are. Too heavy for a gym that smells like sweat masked by Tommy Girl & Victoria's Secret body spray, and looks like an explosion of blue and silver and glitter, festooned with polystyrene snowflakes.

You’re the first to look away, breaking his stare to make sure that revolution is not in fact being stirred up by girls in sparkly dresses and frosted lipgloss. 

Across the dancefloor, you watch Coach Farrell mouthing along the words as he keeps an eye on the aforementioned untainted punch. A perfect distraction from that moment of too much.

“Look at Farrell. Be subtle.”

Steve can just about hear your voice over the scream-singing and chances a glance at the veteran of Physical Education.

“Maybe he’s mellowing.” There’s the sarcasm again. He sips his punch and murmurs, “Asshole.” 

Your shoulders shake with laughter as Wannabe reaches its peak. You are more tickled by Steve’s candour than the spectacle of it all. So here’s the story from A to Z… Neither of you is immune to its catchiness as you watch your students create core memories.

If you wanna be my lover…

You catch each other’s eye again as the proclamation of Girl Power bleeds out. Your face feels hot, the fluttering feeling returns. 

Steve is the one to break it this time, sipping his punch to cool down what is threatening to boil over. 

It’s not just tonight, not simply because he looks hot in his navy blazer and slacks with his stupidly perfect hair. Not only because he helped you re-stick the streamers that had started to sag and fall before the night even began. Not because you caught him looking at the way navy velvet hugged your body, or because he told you looked ‘a million bucks’. 

This has been simmering for two years since he walked into the teacher’s lounge full of confidence and charm, sent searching for you by the administrator who promised the new History teacher that you would show him around. Two years of teaching next door to each other, pretending to be competitive about how your homeroom performed in the Readathon, using the playful rivalry to feature ‘nemesis’ as your word of the week with a picture of Mr H pinned to the board. 

Two years of sharing gossip and frustrations about the district and asshole parents over teacher’s lounge coffee and ungraded papers. Coming in early and staying late to help each other decorate your classrooms for the holidays, just because. Two years of pretending you were not stoking the fire of a crush bigger than the sun, and brushing off teasing questions from students and teachers alike. 

You were just friends, but it stung when you overheard he had a date planned for the weekend. You were just friends, but when you saw his arm around a pretty blonde at a bar one Friday night, you headed home early and hoped he had not seen you. You were just friends but you understood again why teens and poets were so dramatic about matters of the heart. 

You tried to close yourself off, became spiky and quiet to protect yourself from inevitable heartbreak. But Steve was persistent. When you stood him up for coffee for the third time, he delivered it to your desk with a homemade maple pecan muffin with ‘Drink Me’ and ‘Eat Me’ tags as a nod to your seventh graders' reading assignment for the term. 

You let your friends set you up on dates with colleagues and cousins and made yourself unavailable. You found it harder and harder to pretend not to want to spend your shared-free periods shooting the shit with him. To see him looking a little bit lost without his work bestie for company, even when he fit in just fine with the other teachers.

So you gave in. 

You had seen first-hand how crushes ruin friendships; you saw it every day in your classroom and the hallways. You were too old for that and felt like a fraud standing at the top of your classroom teaching kids how to identify themes and literary devices and formulate an objective summary of a text while you were stuck on how Steve's hair looked today and the way he smiled at you in the parking lot.

You could get over yourself, choke down your feelings and mask the bitterness with his baked treats and teacher’s lounge coffee.

The olive branch came in the form of a mug festooned with the face of Abraham Lincoln and the words ‘That’s so four score and seven years ago’. There was also a whole box of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies to sweeten the deal. 

His smile was brighter than the sun and his laugh echoed around the empty classroom. Friends again.

Things went back to normal but your crush could not be overcome. It only got worse as Steve became more charming, opened more doors for you and opened up a little more when you graded papers together. You found it easy to open up to him too. The simmering of something more than friends was threatening to bubble up and boil over.

This afternoon, you found a gift on your desk. Beneath blue and white snowflake patterned paper was a mug. 

‘Though she be but little she is fierce.’ 

Inside the mug was a note in Steve’s handwriting. 

Will you dance with me at the Snow Ball tonight? Yes / No. 

The note feels like it is burning your skin, tucked beneath your bra strap. He has been playing it supremely cool all night - you would expect nothing less from Mr Harrington - but you have caught him staring all evening, fleeting glances that the kids are too excited and distracted to see.

Wannabe is followed by the Macarena. You both watch on as the boys standing around the edges of the gym are herded onto the floor by Mrs Willis, who has hogged the mic and insists that ‘everyone knows this one!’

Shared laughter is smothered and hidden by cups of untainted punch, and it’s only a matter of time before both of you are pulled onto the dancefloor to join in. 

Over the music and Mrs Willis’s encouragement, you hear him mutter “Not what I had in mind,” as you fall in step with the student body who are totally mortified that their teachers are dancing.

You both endure almost four minutes of in-sync choreography before the DJ pulls the plug and transitions into All I Want For Christmas and you are free to shuffle to the sidelines again, side by side against the streamers.

The myrrh and amber notes of Steve’s cologne tickle your nose as you stand close. 

You have to do it now. 

Before you can chicken out, you quickly slide the note from its hiding place and into the pocket of his blazer and pray that no one saw. 

“I love the mug. Thank you.”

His eyes light up with more than the reflections of the silver streamers and his fingers wrap around the body-warm slip of paper. 

“Yeah? You’re welcome, I thought it suited you. And, y’know. Shakespeare.”

Steve’s back to playing cool, but beneath the surface the bubbles fizz and rise and the butterflies flap their wings. You can see it, feel it too. 

“And,” he continues, “I’ve seen you in action at those district meetings so ‘fierce’ felt appropriate. And I’m taller than you so…” 

His lips curve into a smile as you roll your eyes. 

“Yeah yeah, big guy. I can still change my answer on that note…” 

Mirth and mischief are replaced by relief, pure joy and a little hint of a scowl. 

“I’ll play nice. Promise.”

There’s an unspoken, “Will you?”

“I’ll play nice too. Just don’t step on my tiny girl-feet.”

Another look that is both too much and just right is held between you for just a few moments. 

“Find me later, Mr. Harrington.” 

Steve watches you swish away, swathed in deep blue velvet and your dancing shoes. 

Later on, when the hall is clear of students and chaperones, when the hipflask has been opened and shared, he will spin you under his arm and watch you glitter beneath the disco ball.

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading - I hope you enjoyed!! Comments, reblogs and likes are loved, adored and stored in my heart!

[patrophthia]

hii! I really loved your stories! can you write something about theo×hufflepuff again? I don't have any preferences, whathever comes to you mind (well maybee some enemies/don't like each other at the begging haha) thank u))

wanted to do rivals to lovers but i failed, like really badly so here’s just fluff with theo envying reader a teensy bit

make it make sense | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

genre: fluff, meet cute, established relationships, tasm reference (just cuz)

part of my 1k celebration event !

You and Theodore makes no sense. Not to your friends, not to his friends, not to anyone —Merlin, not even yourselves. 

How the two of you got today is and will always be a story Theodore could never wrap his head around. 

At first glance, the two of you are direct opposites. A Hufflepuff and a Slytherin made absolutely no sense at first sight. And it’s exactly what he thought when his feelings towards you —which were, at first, resentment and envy (you were doing better in classes than he was and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bother him) turns to fascination, and maybe even adoration. 

Not in a weird way, of course. Not in a way where he’d stare at you from across the room where you’re sitting, chatting with your friends with a pretty on your face before accidentally meeting his eyes and making him avert his gaze kind of way. Or well —maybe it was. You were beautiful, can you blame him?

Not only were you beautiful, you were also kind. So incredibly kind, hardworking, and your sense of justice is so strong you knocked him off his feet. Literally. 

The first time he talked to you —really talked to you— was when you body slammed him to the ground whilst chasing someone who’d had picked on your friend. It sounds cliche and sometimes, when he feels an overwhelming urge to kiss you; he deflects it by joking about how you ‘fell’ for him. 

You were quick to pick yourself up off of him, eyes wide as you helped him back to his feet with repetitive apologies. “I’m sorry, I really should’ve looked where I was going but I was so worried that he’d get away (and he did) that I bumped into you.

Are you okay though? Should I bring you to the infirmary? What’s your name? How many fingers am I holding up?” 

Theodore fixes his attention on you. “I’m fine, let’s not bother Madam Pomfrey about this,” he says first, then he glances between you and your fingers, eyes glinting with ridicule, “Zero.” 

He’s messing with you. That’s . . . A relief. Unless he actually couldn’t tell that you’re holding up fo—

“Four,” he tells you anyways, he then adds. “Nott.” 

“What?” 

“My names Nott.” He tells you. 

And you smile at him. You’re kind enough to smile at him even when he’s coming off as a bit of an arse to you, you still smile at him. “Oh I know,” you say, “just wanted to make sure you knew it too.” 

He blinks at you. Slowly. So slow that it almost resembles a cat’s blinking. “Well, I do.” 

“Good.” He’s still looking at you. And you’re still looking at him. Neither of you wanting to go back to your separate lives just yet. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

Theodore wills himself to not show any real reaction to your words, only keeping stoic as he answers. “I’m not,” he says, “are you asking to make sure I knew it too?” 

“No.” You shake your head. “I just wanted to know.” 

And you leave. So suddenly that Theodore has to stare at your leaving figure for a good three minutes before finally pulling himself back together. 

So maybe the two of you made no sense being with one another, but it’s been like that from the start —how you left him standing there will forever be a core memory for him— and he’s more than just content to be in love with you now. And if he’s being honest, does things making sense matter when you’re in love? 

Not in his books. 

[degloved]

i've threatened to post yet another sotr opinion, so here i go: lenore dove is a great and valuable character, but her romantic entanglement with haymitch felt completely unnecessary and tacked on. there was something about the two of them that kept bothering me as i read, but i think i was Feeling Everything Too Much to stop and pick things apart. having sat down and dissected my thoughts with bestie though, i've identified my four biggest gripes; their relationship is (a) repetitive, (b) useless, (c) clashes with the core themes of the story, and (d) undercooked.

(a) the main trilogy does "dystopia with a sprinkle of romance" perfectly (though i've certainly debated the inclusion of romance before, i'll pretend i don't hold those stances for the purposes of this post.) romance here is both useful in the sense of giving us a feel for who each character is wrt their view of it and, in general, is as good a vehicle for character development as any (especially given that we're dealing with teenagers here.) in tbosas, the romance takes a much darker and more twisted turn, though it plays a similar role—it illustrates the rottenness-to-the-core of president snow. neither the trilogy nor tbosas would be the same if the focal relationships were to be taken out, they're absolutely integral to both arcs. and yet... it gets to a point. is there not another means of accomplishing everything above? is there not another way to explore the characters' personalities, motives, values, etc.? can't they have a different driving force? wouldn't it have been perhaps smarter and, arguably, more fun to go beyond what's expected of a book within the ya genre?

(b) tying into what i've hinted at in the above paragraph—the four books that came before sotr all depended upon their focal romances to drive the story forward & hammer the point in. sure, we could've gotten a glimpse of snow's cycle path mind by other means—there was sejanus, there was dean highbottom, there were others who snow has fucked over in pursuit of his own ends. but nothing could've quite captured his rancidness, i think, that the way his obsession and attempted possession of lucy grey did. we're all familiar with villains who miraculously change around that one person, who dote on their specialest little boy/girl, yet that wasn't the case here. snow's [redacted] for lucy grey did not absolve him, did not change him, did not halt him in becoming who we know him to be at a rapid pace. as for the romance in thg, i don't think i can say anything that hasn't already been said before & much better besides. the girl on fire and the boy with the bread, we all know how that went. we all know what their love for one another made happen. & with that in mind, what did lenore dove and haymitch's romance accomplish? what did it do? did it alter the trajectory of either of their lives? ...no. did it change anything? ...no. would the story have been 100% the same if they'd only been friends? ...yes. would the story have been 100% the same if lenore dove had, god forbid, not even existed? ...yes. "oh but nico, why must a relationship be useful? why must it serve a purpose? can't we simply be in love?" why, yes! in real life! unfortunately, this is a story, and at that one where every single detail matters. every detail must serve a larger purpose, or else its value is automatically diminished (prime example.) and at times, i'd argue the value of the entire work may be diminished by the inclusion of an extraneous, frivolous plot point (though i wouldn't go that far here.)

(c) perhaps the most offensive aspect of the whole thing—its existence alone completely clashes with, in my view, one of the core themes of the book: friendship. sotr speaks of the biggest in-game alliance between the tributes thus far (and ever since.) again and again it emphasizes the "kad se male ruke slože" of it all (roughly, "many hands make light work.") unlike the tributes in katniss' time, they all approach each other. they talk. they make promises. haymitch isn't afraid to ally with louella on the train, and it doesn't take much at all for him to see loulou—a girl who is no one to him, nothing—as something precious to protect. not to mention ampert (no really, i won't, i'll get upset.) his and maysilee's entire arc is so, so beautiful and touching—his perception changing, the admission he had been wrong about her, the journey from refusing to ally, to doing so begrudgingly, to calling her a friend and a sister. even wyatt found his place in haymitch's heart. friends, friends, friends, it's all about friends. haymitch in the present timeline could've been that sad lonely drunk wreck just as believably after losing them. just as believably if lenore dove had been his friend (i hesitate to say only a friend—a friend can't ever be only.) haymitch has really lost so much, so many, and there is something about the pedestal lenore dove is put on—when it comes to these losses—that i can't get behind. would he have been any different, really, if she'd been spared? would all that misfortune not find him if she had been spared? no. no, i don't think so. therefore... two plus two.

(d) and finally, the total nail in the coffin—it wasn't even that good. we're thrown in medias res of their romance & we're meant to take suzanne's word for it. we're meant to do this from the get-go and throughout, because—in a book that can be summed up as So Much, All The Time—there was really not a moment to spare for haymitch and lenore dove. their romance was given no time to develop—and how could it have? how could it have, when the characters were hardly in physical proximity of each other for more than a page and a half total? he fed her the gumdrops and i felt nothing but a passing sadness, because all i could think about was ampert, was maysilee, was wyatt, was loulou, was anyone and everyone whose haymitch gave his all for & still couldn't save. we didn't need this romance subplot to begin with, and it wasn't even good.

[goawaypopup]

Look Outside Posting Part 4: Sybil

Today, a little on the most mysterious character in the game.

Having established that she is probably the fleshy stuff everywhere else in the building, Apartment 35 is definitely her core, or base, or something. Whether it's full to the brim with meat with two blue little eyeballs at the cracks in the walls, she's budded off a fresh, separate body in there, or that room is some kind of Schrodinger's time anomaly.

If you interrogated Beryl, you'll know that she knew Sybil was in Apartment 12, not 35. But, crucially, something i haven't seen anyone else mention: Sybil did live in 35. The game takes place in March; Edwin's ledger of equipment loans shows Sybil borrowing a telescope, in Apartment 35, in February of the previous year. She moved out, and into 12, at some point in the interim. (Edit: Tragically, it has come to my attention that in the latest update the ledger is fixed to show her in 12, after all. She just showed up in this room to stare at Sam, I guess.)

What remain of Sybil's memories and knowledge show that this can't be an unrelated Sybil. Beryl was the first to join the group (Jasper taking care of Sybil, and Edwin sort of off to the side providing tools). She met Sybil only a few months before the game's events, after she had already witnessed the Visitor, and when she was already in the new apartment. Neither Beryl nor the others after her ever knew Sybil in Apartment 35, and she's the only one you mention it to, so they never find out about her.

The thing that makes Sybil so clearly pivotal, even if it's never clear exactly how, is that she's privy to information no one else is. As far as I'm aware, nobody else somehow just knows that the Visitor will leave in 15 days.

Even the Astronomers don't have an estimate. Whatever speed the Visitor was traveling at before is obviously shot - you'd have to be able to calculate its attention span somehow to know when it's going to leave. And Sybil is right on the money. She's wrong about having "heard it" somewhere, at any rate - from where, the news? The panicking residents? At literal sunrise on the first day?

Not even the Visitor itself seems to know stuff like this about what it's going to do. It doesn't even know what a photo is... I don't think it's actually responsible for the Astronomers' visions of offerings.

So who the hell is??

You can probably guess this one from context.

Sybil is suspiciously knowledgeable on all this, if unconsciously so. Even for someone who was studying this entity. She doesn't just know what it looks like or where it came from, she knows what it's going to do. She knows what to do about it.

The relationship of brain-sharing between her and the Visitor might have... become even a little bit less one-sided, with the amount of time they've spent like that? Though it doesn't seem to have been good for her coherence of thought.

Her being in her old apartment, and unaware of this, might suggest some kind of time frickery, too. Her claim to have lost her job only a month ago seems questionable on the timeline.

Sybil dreams constantly, when she manages to get some sleep in. She's positively tormented by visions of falling into a well of starlike eyes, and four robed men.

The four Astronomers all get dreams hinting at depictions of the Visitor to offer up to it, ones so evocative that they persuade some very skeptically-minded individuals to go hunting for them in real life. (God knows those dum-dums needed the help to finish the ritual in time, seeing as they all spend two straight weeks standing and pondering in their respective rooms if Sam doesn't get the offerings for them.)

Sam's "go up into the sky" dream at the beginning is probably Sybil's fault as well. It's the same sentiment she's having at the moment he wakes up, that the sky is very pretty and he should go look at it.

Sybil is in a lot of very weird pieces now, but all of them are doing their best to help.

If it ever gets added as an option, I'm immediately ripping her door down and examining this woman with a microscope. There's only so much analysis I can do from behind the wall, y'know?

---

A parting note: I'm open to doing shorter reviews on less broad aspects of the game, if you have something specific in mind. Send me an ask!

[dalessandrablog]

My theories on love triangles in Bridgerton IV

Needless to say, the teaser brought back my full-blown Bridgerton mania.

I actually got into the show while reading Benedict’s book, so you can imagine—his love story with Sophie is by far my favorite.

As a Cinderella fan, how could it not be?

Anyway, after going through a few fandom opinions and theories about what’s still to come... I started wondering if, in this case, a love triangle might actually work well.

At this point, we know the show loves to include that little spark of jealousy from the male leads—and honestly, I have to laugh thinking about people who said months ago that it wouldn’t suit Benedict. (Myself included)

The teaser showed the exact opposite—and he didn’t even present himself yet!

In the book, Benedict is torn between Sophie and the mysterious “lady in silver,” who’s actually her in disguise—but there are a few things that make me think we might be getting a proper third wheel this time… if not a fourth.

They’ve confirmed we’ll be seeing more of the Bridgerton household staff (especially since Sophie becomes one of them), and Rosamund—rather than just being a stereotypical “evil stepsister” like in the book—is apparently willing to do anything to win over Benedict.

Now, I’m not saying Michelle Mao and Yerin Ha look identical, but… considering the hair color, their height, and the fact that the lady in silver wears a mask that hides most of her face… I immediately thought Rosamund might try to pass herself off as her.

Honestly, it could work. They need drama.

But I’d be really annoyed if this Cinderella story turned into a Little Mermaid situation.

And knowing they’re currently filming in a church… I really hope it’s for Benedict and Sophie’s wedding and not a scene where he’s about to marry the wrong woman.

A “So it was you all along” moment would be so cringe to me. I’d much rather have a reveal more in line with the book.

I hope I’m wrong about that theory—but not the second one.

Because I’m definitely not the only one who’s thought of this:

Benedict being jealous of Footman John.

We’ve seen way too much of him in spoilers for it to be nothing.

And he doesn’t even have to be a real love interest for Sophie!

He just has to be a possibility.

Let’s be real—Benedict has had four official love interests over the course of the series. Not a bad choice, and it actually fits the “bohemian artist” vibe they’ve given him in the show.

In the books, he’s experienced, but not a full-on libertine like Michael, Anthony, or Simon.

It works, and it makes his offer to Sophie (to become his mistress) more understandable. But it also creates a huge imbalance between them romantically.

Neither Kate, Penelope, nor Daphne had any real romantic or sexual experience before their husbands, and with Sophie… it’s hard to believe she’s had any.

First, she literally wouldn’t have time.

In the book, Araminta never gives her days off, and I doubt that’ll change. Sophie’s only real escape is through books.

Second, she doesn’t want illegitimate children.

She wouldn’t risk it. She doesn’t even do it with Benedict—why would she with someone else?

Also, her strength and sense of self-worth in the book are exactly what make her so special in Benedict’s eyes.

That trait, to me, is non-negotiable—because otherwise you’re completely changing the core of her character.

I’d love to see a version of Sophie more like Danielle from Ever After (though book Sophie already reminded me of her).

Someone who can stand up for herself when needed, but who’s also fragile and deeply yearning for a family to love her, and a partner who sees her for who she really is.

Before I go off too much about how I want to see Yerin Ha wield a fencing sword for any reason whatsoever, let’s go back to Footman John.

Honestly, I don’t think there’ll be any real flirting between him and Sophie—but since they’ll be working together, it’s impossible that some kind of bond won’t form.

Some people think John will have a crush on Sophie’s new maid friend—and I agree.

But Benedict could easily misread the whole thing.

And that fear of losing Sophie might be exactly what he needs to feel.

Sure, Benedict’s faced rejection before, but when it comes to love, he’s always kind of won anyway.

He’s a privileged noble (and I love Benedict, don’t get me wrong), but I do want to see him suffer a bit after making us wait this long for his season.

So how does a man like that deal with the idea that he could lose the woman he loves to someone who has less to offer?

Because that’s the point.

Benedict thinks he can give her more—protection, a roof over her head, fine clothes—but in secret.

Meanwhile, John, who comes from the same social class as Sophie, could offer her marriage, legitimate children, and not wealth, no—but a love she doesn’t have to hide.

And those are the things Sophie actually wants.

She doesn’t care about Benedict’s money—she wants love and the peace of knowing her children are protected by a name.

That realization—that someone else could give her what she wants more than he can—might finally force Benedict to reconsider his proposal, realize how unfair he’s being, and decide, yes, this woman is worth more than any society that always felt like a cage to him anyway.

And if it turns out John was never into Sophie at all? That would honestly be hilarious.

Now, I’m not the showrunner, obviously, but if they must go the love triangle route, something like this?

I’d be totally on board.

Whether I’m right or not… time will tell.

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Four: Geralt Rivia + Love Bites

Geralt has been different recently. He's willing to touch you in the public streets wherever you roam. It could be that Geralt almost lost you a few months ago. He's intent on keeping you at his side, protecting you from the little things.

It continues when you three enter a tavern already too cramped. The stares at the white-haired witcher are usual to him, but he can feel their dirty eyes graze over your fair body, sending sparks of rage. He holds onto you possessively and keeps you close to his side.

When the three of you sit at a table, Geralts gets you practically in his lap when the barmaid comes over with three ales.

You aren't used to the treatment but won't say anything. Just because you aren't used to the treatment doesn't mean that you don't love the hell out of it. You may just want to know where the hell it stems from.

You will get your answer soon enough. When a young lad no bigger than Jaskier comes over. Drunken stumbles and breath that has your eyes winching. Geralt has been summoned away, just a few tables away, but now that he's not there and neither is Jaskier, your skin crawls with angst and disgust as the young man tries his hardest to sit at the table. He scratches the chair against the floor and makes the table jerk with sloppy movement.

"Well, aren't you just a pretty lass." He says drunkenly across the table. You nod your head, unsure how to get out of this situation. Geralt has always told you that people are worse than monsters.

"Monsters are monsters for a reason. They are born that way. People are not. They are born with nothing but the knowledge thrown at them. People are unpredictable." It probably was not meant to sound scary, but something about knowing what people can do as you itch to get out of your seat.

It's not that you have to worry long; Geralt is by your side in a matter of seconds. You hadn't been able to feel his eyes graze over to the small table or how rage filled his body and bones at the thought of you having some random scum of a man touch you. The drunk young man stumbles as he jumps up to leave the table and the tavern together.

"I can't leave you for more than a few moments, can I?" Geralt asks. His voice is smooth and velvety as he whispers into your ear. His body is still shaking with rage, but he knows a better way than puffing out his chest and making a fool of himself in the small tavern.

He grabs your hands softly and leads you to the small rooms above the tavern. "What am I to do with you love?" He asks, you know full well that it isn't a question its more of a outside thought. Theres a few things he could do to you, he could have you strip down to your bare, beautiful skin. Lay you down on the bed and fuck you still. The tavern owner knocked on the door, asking the two of you to keep quiet.

Or he could lay you gently down on the pillows and blankets, pull the most core from your waist, and suck your pretty little neck until you are littered with bruises of purples and blues. He decided on that. Your correct slips from your body with ease as you are placed into Geralt's lap instead.

Large hands holding your spine straight and neck to the side. Your own hairs find the smooth texture of his white hair as you hold on for dear life. Geralt's cock is begging for attention, but for now, all he cares about is marking you as his. Let everyone know you belong to him tomorrow morning when your neck is full of purples, blues, and fading yellows. No drunk man will come to bother you at your table any longer.

Hell, Geralt will probably let you leave a few of your own reminders behind his body, too.

"You're mine, and I'm yours." He'd whisper against your skin before pressing soft and sweet kisses against the supple skin.

Completed on: 07/30/24

Posted on: 10/04/24

Kinktober 24-

[suzukiblu]

do you have any wips w/ tim/cassie/bart/kon ??

Nice to meet you, friend, I can tell you're new around here, haha. 💙💙

These are mostly Kon-slanted in one way or another, given he's my fave blorbo, though he's not the POV character in all of them and in a couple of them he is only TECHNICALLY an involved on-screen character, hah.

a pocketful of Kons (( chrono || non-chrono || AO3 )) - A Pocket soulmates AU where Tim, Cassie, and Bart all wake up to their own tiny "Superman", which seems pretty weird, given that Superman is, like, super-old? And also super-DEAD. Like, he's definitely super, super dead.

Cassie gets a Pocket (or three) (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Another Pocket soulmates AU. Cassie wakes up after the first campout with YJ98 to find out she's got some tiny pocket-sized soulmates and has a crisis about it. ( Technically a prequel to Damian gets a Pocket, which itself includes Tim and HIS tiny pocket-sized soulmates in a guest-star role, but just in the sense that it's another entry in a series about different people in the same AU meeting their Pockets; there's not a strongly-linked narrative/plot going between them. )

it's not fine anymore (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Tim, Cassie, and Bart decide it is OBVIOUSLY time for the Core Four to all start dating each other and Kon and his internalized acephobia/Cadmus-designed ED have a whole-ass emotional crisis about it.

YJ accidental baby acquisition (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Cassie, Tim, and Bart all get speed-cloned into one metaweapon built to take out intruders in a dubiously-ethical lab they're investigating. Kon decides to throw a wrench in that and interrupts the process, and now there is a four year-old Greek demigod with Speed Force access and a Bat-brain that they have to explain to the Justice League. Mazel tov!

nsfw:

come on barbie let's go party (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Kon gets magically shrunk down to action figure-size for a day or so and they're all weird and horny about it. That's it, that's the fic. [ nsfw ]

the Core Four gangs up on Kon's objectification kink (( chrono || non-chrono )) - The Core Four accidentally trips over a new kink of Kon's and REALLY leans into it in, like, borderline-gangbang fashion. [ nsfw ]

honorable mentions, as being YJ polyam with the whole YJ98 team:

YJ packs up and gets pupped (( chrono || non-chrono )) - Omegaverse fic where Kon presents his secondary gender while stray and is emotionally unwell about it but DEFINITELY totally FINE handling it on his own, DEFINITELY, he is SO FINE ABOUT THIS, which ( eventually ) features the OG six in a polyam situation. Kon-centric.

gender? I hardly know her! (( chrono || non-chrono )) - This is actually I think kinda all over the place in its tag, ngl, so not really in proper chrono/all-together order, but neither is its file in my WIP folder so that's just authenticity, baby!! It's literally just "Young Justice is sliding into a situationship and Kon finds out that Kryptonians can cisswap based on the physical sex of the prospective partner that they're currently most attracted to", and also Slobo being incredibly shameless and a little bit of Tim's "I really thought I was straight and I don't know what Kon turning into a girl over me means for that" sexuality crisis. OG six plus Anita and Slobo polym. [ nsfw ]

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

I want to write batfam (just core four rn) w/ their respective partners but every single ship is just

red flag x red flag

TW- Obsessive/ Unhealthy love and relationships, just descriptions though

Dick & Wally? They are the clingy toxic- what do you mean you want a seperate life/hobbies that don't involve me? The kind of people to take "Would you love me if I was a worm"? way too seriously and cry if they dont get the "right" answer. God forbid you try "I was asleep" for not texting back.

Jason & Roy? Fire meets fire, get the cops called on them at least once a week. Every disagreement is a full out brawl before long, but they always end up amping up and then patching eachother's wounds with kisses and gauze. Hard to tell if its genuine hate or flirting sometimes- maybe both.

Tim & Bernard? Stalker ship. Privacy? You mean you don't love me enough to want me to have your location 24/7?? It's a push and pull of control and constant reminders that secrets are an illusion. But they also are way too enamored with the fact someone would love them to the point of obsession to really be that bothered. "You made me a shrine?? Aww babe it even has my missing shirt, that must have been a pain to get" kinda shit.

Dami & Jon? Stubborn to the max, the couple that breaks up at least once a week and then makes up two hours later after keying a car and throwing a game system in water. Drag everyone into their fights and hold grudges like theres no tomorrow. Also god forbid trigger jealousy. Will pull the "I don't think you should hang out with them, they're not good for you" shit

Now any of these behaviors in any other context?? Fuck that. But theres something about "Is it really toxic if neither of us are innocent" kinda fictional ship that I love. Also let Batfam be fucking insane especially when it comes to their partners.

[specialagentartemis]

Anthropology class today was about the way cultures classify things and build their worldviews out of classifications, the theories of purity/impurity and clean/unclean that come from classifications and the things that fall outside classification systems, which is really classic structuralist the-raw-and-the-cooked anthropology stuff, Mary Douglas and her Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo and it has me thinking about Ice Age Story again.

The people think of the Earth as a body. Ochre is the blood of the earth. Blood and ochre are both incredibly ritually powerful.

When a body part is removed—hair cut, blood spilled, fingernails chewed, fingers amputated due to frostbite, and all excrement—it must be immediately buried in the earth, because it is unclean to be separate from the body.

As a hunter-gatherer culture, and one whose food sources are precarious, they have strong opinions on what should and shouldn’t be eaten. All plants are acceptable, judged solely on the merits of their tastiness and nutrition. All herbivores are acceptable: those are prey. You don’t eat carnivores; they are hunters, like you, and it’s spiritually like cannibalism. (Cannibalism is deeply unacceptable.) Birds are acceptable to eat, except for raptors; see above about being hunters. Insects like grasshoppers, crickets, grubs, or ants are fine to eat, but not spiders or dragonflies. Fish are okay. Shellfish—specifically bivalves—are right out. They are neither animals nor plants, no idea what those are, and as such they are not food. (It’s not a cultural prohibition, per se, like the prohibition on eating other hunters is; it’s more that it doesn’t fit any of the classificatory schema of the world and thus doesn’t really register as potential food any more than a rock would. Like how in general American culture, eating crickets isn’t so much forbidden as never considered at all because they are Not Food and that would be gross.)

The five main color categories are black, white, red, yellow/green, and blue/“deep”. The colors are associated with both the world and the aspects of life: Red is blood/physicality/life & west, yellow is vitality/energy/life & east, blue is thought/mystery/spirit & south, white is death & north. Black is both up and down and represents the universe as a whole and isn’t really tied to the fourfold human life symbolism. Black is the most powerful color, but red is the most powerful of the human/bodily colors and the one most commonly used in paint and ritual. Black, red, yellow, and white all can be represented by pigments, but blue can’t; that’s one of the reasons it is the color of thought, spirit, and sacred mystery. It can only be provided by the universe, and is primarily associated with the sea, though it is also the color of evergreen trees in winter and the dome of the sky in the clearest days of summer. Four and five are the significant, sacred numbers.

There are also four centers of vitality in the human body: the head, throat, heart, and genitals. These are the places that, say, you might place the sacred fire on a man you found half frozen to death in the snow to revive him. The fact that these are the locations of core arteries that need to be warmed up fast to start circulating warm blood to your body again isn’t coincidental.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 107)

That night… neither parent got any sleep. Between Bishop needing fed every two hours and Tera getting sick nearly in that same time frame. It was a busy night.

Exhaustion was the word of the day. And they were living it.

Khan was grinning the entire time he made the morning gasoline for everyone. Humming under his breath as Nori sat at the kitchen table, giving N a half-wave as he walked out of Uzi's old bedroom.

“How'd you sleep?” Khan asked, setting Nori's cup in front of her and turning to N.

“Well Tera's come down with something… she can't keep any oil down, and she's shivering…” N explained, voice laced with tiredness. “So she's been up all night. And so have we…”

“Aw. Wonder where she picked it up from?” Nori chimed in. Taking a sip of the gasoline before her eyelights hollowed and she stuck her tongue out. “ugh… bitter”

Khan blinked. Confused. “What do you mean? You always hated sugar in your gas.”

Nori blinked back. “Yeah. Your right. Guess when I rebuilt my body my pallette changed. Whoops.” She shrugged, leaning over to dump sugar in her cup.

“Hm. I suppose that would make sense.” Khan utters, his thumb and his finger under his chin.

N was too tired to pay it any mind.

…

Uzi wrapped Bishop in the baby sling around her, using the same purple one she'd used for Tera all those months ago. B was a quiet baby, observing and curious, all seven eyes bouncing around at everything.

Tera was curled up in a tight ball on the bed. Trembling with every fiber of her being, soft whines escaping her in the uneasy sleep she was experiencing.

Uzi sighed. Stroking her daughter's back to try and comfort her. She was much too warm to the touch, but she hadn't been able to keep any oil down for longer then an hour… so that made sense.

Plus, with how little sleep she'd gotten. Uzi wouldn't dare wake her up unless absolutely necessary.

…

Tera was running. Scampering across the floor on all fours, moving as fast as her little legs could carry her, she felt… so tired, so warm, so hungry.

Why… why was she running?

She stopped. Catching her breath. She could see it coming out in foggy pants. She sat on her haunches, looking around for why she'd been running.

The room, if you could even call it that. Was pitch black, unless you counted Tera herself. She could see her hands, her clothes, but everything else around her was blank, like it hadn't decided what it itself was yet.

She looked up. The “ceiling" is a dense collection of clouds, like the oppressive sky of Copper-9.

There's a storm brewing inside, streaks of purple lighting dancing on the inside of the clouds, it was pretty… in it's own way.

There was darkness all around. But it felt less like shadows and more like spaces to be filled with other things, like an empty apartment, full of potential.

It least. Until there was the sound slithering across the floor. Wet and sticky and made the sensors on the back of the little dronelings neck go crazy.

She turned in it's direction, back arching up like a cat trying to make itself bigger, and she hissed threatingly, slowing backing up as she stared into the darkness.

The thunder of the clouds above and the sound of her own breathing was the only thing she could hear, but she didn't stop going backwards.

Her core beat like a drum in her chest.

She growled-

And was cut off when her back touched something solid.

She yelped. Darting forward in a dead four limbed sprint but it wasn't enough, she was grabbed by the leg and was suddenly being dragged into the floor like it was made of inky black quicksand, she screamed, scrambling to try and claw herself out.

The storm above raged. Yellow lightning joining the purple arc's like a pair of fighting gods.

She sinks underneath the floor… and falls.

And falls

And falls…

And then lands with a disgusting sounding wet slap, though it didn't hurt.

He eyelights slowly come open.

The floor is now writhing, slimy tendrils, moving underneath her feet and throwing her slightly off balance. Her breath speeds up- she tries to move but her arms and legs are stuck.

“Mama! Papa! Help!” She yelps and pleads, trying desperately to free herself from the cords holding her in place. There's movement all around her, giant shapes looming in the dark, stalking her like prey.

She whimpers when she gets no response. She's alone…

She looks behind her, eyes trying to parce what's moving, what's there.

When she turns back. There's something in front of her. Her eyelights hollow in fear.

A shadow creature. Is the best way to describe it. Her exact proportions, just whispy… like a flickering candle. It's entirely black. The only difference is the eyes… a sickly, faded, yellow

It cocks it's head.

Tera cocks hers.

It circles her, walking on all fours, like it's observing her soul, her being, everything she is and will be.

By the time it's finished. It's no longer a vague form. It has black hair, a purple onesie, tiny fangs and tiny claws.

She stares back at a copy of herself. Only now.

It has yellow eyes.

A too wide grin nearly splits the copies face, oil dripping from it's maw…

Tera wakes up with a scream. Almost falling off the bed if Uzi hadn't caught her. “Woah, careful.”

Tera's inconsolable, trembling and sobbing into her mothers shoulder, Uzi holding her close, stroking her back.

“Shh… it's alright. It's just a dream…”

“Just a dream…”

Next ->

[thegreatyin]

Pros and cons of each main ambition in FL?

you're in luck- i already made a list on this exact subject!

other things which aren't listed here but are still very important to consider:

all of the ambitions are excellent and worth playing. this is the single biggest thing to keep in mind when choosing your ambition. there is no such thing as a "bad" ambition- each has their own strengths and weaknesses that makes them more or less suited to certain characters and certain people.

light fingers' exact content warnings are nonconsent in all forms, substantial amounts of body and pregnancy horror, stalking, medical abuse, and implications of beastiality. it's the only ambition you can freely back out of, and therefore it has the freedom to be substantially darker and more graphic than any other storyline in the game. it is, however, the ambition with the single biggest capacity for good in the entire game, and the core of it is genuine and heartfelt in a way no other story can replicate.

despite this, the way LF handles its female characters can leave something to be desired. it's not atrocious by any means, but it is something i noticed while playing earlier this year. im mentioning this here because it's something that came up only after i made the original list, and leaving out a notable con seems disingenuous.

nemesis is really really good when its flaws aren't laid out all at once. looking back, this list makes it seem worse than it actually is. when nemesis is at its best, it's seriously at its best. when nemesis is at its worst... well, when you rank multiple of any one thing, something inevitably has to come in last place. nemesis has the unfortunate honor of being that last place competitor. please refer back to statement one.

some ambitions have better mechanical rewards than others. heart's desire in particular is infamous for this- it has some of the best mechanical rewards as well as some of the most populous tie-ins and ramifications. it's (usually affectionately) called the ""golden child"" of ambitions for a reason. now, fallen london is first and foremost a narrative game, so mechanics shouldn't be your sole deciding factor. but they are still vaguely important to keep in mind!!

bag a legend lets you (optionally) get really homoerotic with a giant alien furry. this statement speaks for itself.

light fingers has a top tier Fucked Up Guy™ in it. this also speaks for itself 🎭🥛

heart's desire has prominent doomed old man yaoi. again, this speaks for itself.

one of the nemesis rewards lets you dramatically brood in the corner of an art showcase like batman. there is nothing else to say.

if you ever want to Seek The Name, nemesis and bag a legend are the two best ambitions with which to do it. SMEN has a small nemesis tie-in that can inspire some really cool roleplay thoughts about your character, while bag a legend has a very lore significant bonus if you complete your search (and, crucially, turn back with your prize in hand) before the story's conclusion. you can do some neat stuff with a heart's desire and/or light fingers seeker, but neither compare to the opportunities you get with BaL and nemesis.

above all else, trust nothing i say because i am biased and unreliable to the nines. i highly, highly recommend reading through the wiki's dedicated ambition guide for more details on all four ambitions, what they entail, what rewards they give, and (to some spoiler-lite extent) what they ask of the player. hell, ask around other parts of tumblr if you're still on the fence. ambitions are a big investment, and we've all invested before. the community is always happy to help new players out.

I ALMOST FORGOT TO MENTION if (AND ONLY IF) you pick heart's desire don't discard your dream cards at all fucking costs. play them as soon as you see them in your opportunity deck. when you have gotten your dream qualities high enough, do not click any kind of option that says you can reset them/view them in a different light. keep them there. keep them high. keep them close and keep them fast. this is a chekov's gun strategy that will save you weeks of pain later please please please please please this is the biggest advice i can give to any potential HD player internalize this and nothing else please please p