#She gets to be more extra and regal looking

[ind1c0lite]

also redid my older franziska design smile

[austinsastrology8991]

> MC ASPECTS < How you renowned around town “You make your own reality. And once you’ve done it, apparently, everyone’s of the opinion it was all so fucking obvious.” - Logan - Fucking - ROy

!!parental advisory explicit!!

MC Aspecting Sun - “rome, I think you're a super talented superstar and I love you” - Shiv Roy : Its hard not to notice you, you got a poise of regality, and you work the public sphere with ease; you put yourself out there and you get a lot of attention from onlookers - and it makes you one of a kind. you are someone with dignity and maybe too much self respect for some, to give you the credit that you do deserve > because no one does it quite like you - high key a dominant force in any room you enter - wolf of wall street vibes and lets be honest you are not above having a party at the office... and paying hookers to make it more cool...... you do the most and its a vibe vibe MC Aspecting Moon - "They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had, and add some extra just for you" - Therapist in succession You know how to put people at ease, and your basically a professional therapist at this point. You can lighten up anyones mood or piss everyone off depending on how you feel. And this understanding of psychology really benefits you; because people want to treat you right, so you can give them some insight as to why they have a mental breakdown every 5 minutes (this generations daily cycle) your like a dog that lives in a hair-salon and everyone wanna get a cuddle from it/he/she/thing/you

MC Aspecting Mercury - “Information, Greg, it’s like a bottle of fine wine. You store it, you hoard it, you save it for a special occasion and then you smash someone’s face with it.” - Tom Wambsgams When you stfu people are wondering what your thinking. because somehow. someway. you've taken control of the conversation, and whatever you say is taken with heavier consideration then the average person. However that does not mean you get your way, it just means we listen to you the most - easily the most valuable insight comes from you guys, and your perceived as. a hustler. no wonder your careful with ur words because you dont really care about getting the right answer in the known, if that ultimately inteferes with your master plan you'll just stay quiet - because you know how to navigate the world with words, and your aware that ultimately the final word - the best word - is the deciding factor of what we do MC Aspecting Venus - "Here’s the thing about being rich, okay? It’s fucking great. It’s like being a superhero, only better. You get to do what you want — the authorities can’t really touch you. You get to wear a costume, but it’s designed by Armani and it doesn’t make you look like a prick." - Tom Wambsgams Beauty pageants. Everyone is interested in you, because your beautiful and your graceful, and you'd make a fine edition to the list of exes that everyone has. So besides the fact that your fuckable, you know how to charm people so easily and thats why you get so much attention, and its positive unless your insecure about how attractive you are.... which is a real thing... and id say just get that plastic surgery or stfu and find some real solutions. i mean has anyone ever tried to tell a beautiful person, that they beautiful.... its exhausting... and then they just look for someone else (more beautiful) to get that validation. its a death trap!!! dont fall for that bs... but damn yo fine ass better get used to being a fine ass or someone gonna commit a crime on yo ass MC Aspecting Mars - "I got a track record from founding one of the most exciting new media brands in the world. And what do you got? Track marks from shooting junk? Thanks for coming down. It was great to meet you." - Lawyrence Yee Unfuckwitable - you embody the underdog - and i mean an under dog thorugh and through; youll bark at anything that pisses yall offf, and thats why people watch they step around yall, no one wanna get bitten by da big dog with a small dog complex. but your fierce and people try their best to match your aggressive energy just to save face for themselves - meanwhile your just more pissed off that you always gotta show yo teeth to anyone you talk to lol. Your competitive and act like crackhead that knows karate. everyone is low key intimidated by ya, and you know it

MC Aspecting Jupiter - "Most things don't exist. the ford motor company hardly exists. It's just a time saving expression for a collection of financial interests." - Logan RoyEveryone likes you, and sometimes you don't even understand why, and thats just another reason to like you. You show a geniune uninterest in any boring mundane activities > and this lack of care for bullshit makes it so that when you do show an interest for something > you've somehow convinced everyone in the room that your enthusiasm defines whats enjoyable. and this discernment makes others believe that your the new budha for socio-economic observations . I respect it. and you did it without even realizing, like thats a feat initself, and you guys are 100 feet tall in everyone elses eyes because you got a name fo yo self MC aspecting Saturn - "the actual fact is we're persuading more and more shareholders everyday that we offer them just a slightly better chance for them to make a little bit more money on the dollar…and that's all that this is…." - Stewy Hosseini The boss is here and now everyone gotta actually do something productive. you guys have respect, and people know that if they don't come at you correctly, then you'll correct it for them, and no one wanna be daddied by the king kong daddy. Your life is defined by hardships and this is the most noticeable trait about yall, and it has molded you into a gus fring. A stone cold killer. You don't have to say much but the weight of your presence in itself, is so much pressure, that everyone wanna ask for more time, but no one wanna be scolded by yall so we just stfu and deal with it MC Aspecting Uranus - "Nothing is a line. Everything, everywhere is always moving. Forever. Get used to it." - Logan Roy Who is they? who are we? why can they get away with acting like a complete fucking retard? Well they don't 'get away with it' they just fucking do it. I mean the balls on ya'll is undeniable, but the audacity and the concept of why. well no one knows and I don't think you do either. But you literally change the game wherever you go, because you do ridiculous shit just to make fun of reality, and it really does expose how much of a cult we all live in; since we all about our own rituals of bullshit. I applaud the audacity but everyone gets nervous around your unpredictable nervous explosions - your like a charged creeper; youve been shocked by something and now you just have to explode and ruin everyones buildings

MC Aspecting Neptune - "Climate said I was going down. Climate said I should just step aside. I guess I'm a climate denier" - Logan Roy You're imagination personified. You somehow write your favourite stories into reality > and you do this so uncosnciosuly thst you've somehow convinced everyone its real. You don't care much for whats actually real, you'd rather manifest what you want to be real > no matter whats being thrown at you (and theres a lot) you have a uncanny ability to be a energy conduit > and transform that energy into what pleases you the most. And because of this you appear to be a mystic. and theres a tendency to be very calm, and if life throws too much shit at you > and you've ran outta favours, its adios to the world. and the long road of finding your purpose again awaits! MC Aspecting Pluto - "Would you like to hear my favourite passage from Shakespear? Take the fucking money." - Logan Roy You are daunting aren't you. people don't talk to you very much, at least not any normal self abiding citizen. you look like TMNT - you look neglected > look like you ate some radioactive poison > became this mutant thing > and was raised by a rat that could beat your ass... how'd that go? you look great! I would shake your hand but Im honestly afraid your gonna bite me. Look your life is intense and borderline traumatic, I get it. but this makes you so mesmerising > you can have the whole room in a trance with your dark aura, and people just hand you power like its nothing. You don't even care tho, and thats what makes you even more powerful lol > if anyone can handle the dark. its you > and a powerful 'rep' requires someone who doesn't fuck around. and you do not

highly highly recommend succession > all the quotes used are from dat show - and its a fkn masta piece

[mmani-e]

Hello! After all this effort, behold:

DANGANRONPA DEMIX, THH EDITION!

Dr Demix 2

Finally got the talentswap designs I have for the THH characters one and done with! You can click through the read more section for some fun design insights. I'm intending on uploading a doc containing short lore bits about them eventually.

Kyoko Kirigiri - Ultimate Affluent Progeny

So Kyoko's design was both kinda simple, kinda not, wanted to give her a very fine and regal kinda attitude to her but not arrogant as that's very much Byakuya's thing. Her story is that she loves her dad more than the family business and her grandpa so she abandons detective work and just uses her brain to help her dad out.

Makoto Naegi - Ultimate Novelist

Makoto is a wonderful guy, just great all around. He loves writing children's books and happy stories. This is his main coping mechanism so he doesn't have to process any negative emotions he gets, the rest he can't process… well they go into a murderous psychopath alter.

Aoi Asahina - Ultimate Lucky Student

Shoujo protagonist Aoi. Cute, headstrong, affective, competitive, these are all the traits that make her fight for her friends and clash with Kyoko (and more often than not Byakuya) in the killing game, even when all hope seems lost… she pushes through, unafraid to let tears spill from her eyes for all those lost, but pushing all the same.

Byakuya Togami - Ultimate Detective

This one, I wanna go into more lore territory, cause I kinda memed around his last desc I gave him so here goes:

"A disgraced heir of the Togami household, Byakuya lost the competition that would've secured his riches. Disdainful and bitter, he sought out to get to the bottom of why he lost, uncovering a rabbit hole in the process. By the end, he proved his sibling a cheater, but it didn't matter because by the end as he found the sweet satisfaction of uncovering secrets and crushing liars and cheaters under the weight of their hubris far more satisfying than any inheritance."

Sayaka Maizono - Ultimate Spirit Medium

So Sayaka isn't a clairvoyant at all like Yasuhiro, in fact her entire skillset is completely different, first of all she is like an actual psychic, and I based her design off of the japanese Itako, quite loosely. Very interesting group, look it up, also she'll never use these powers in the killing game because I dunno how to even approach these rituals or what they look like or how to write them while remaining respectful, so she won't do it in a killing game for the express reason of her not having the right tools available and not wanting to disrespect her traditions.

Leon Kuwata - Ultimate Swimmer

I really wanna draw him again, all these characters again tbh, and I wanna show off the patterns on his wetsuit. It's a whole coral reef under there, that anemone and clownfish bit is only one part of a whole reef stretching his midline.

Sakura Ogami - Ultimate Programmer

Sakura has installed chips into her body to help optimize her body processes and also cause why not. As for the muscles, she's an Assembly programmer, the programs she's made can run on calculators she loves it.

Chihiro Fujisaki - Ultimate Martial Artist

Chihiro's design here with the two belts is an explicit nod to his preferred martial art - Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, so unlike Sakura in canon who'd be easy to imagine cracking someone's skull in half with a chop, Chihiro's approach is more crawling onto someone and bringing them down to the floor with grappling like an angry halfling monk. As for the belts themselves, on his head is his final junior belt, while around his waist is his current belt, he's not a black belt yet because he's still too young for it.

Celestia Ludenberg - Ultimate Baseball Star

Celestia actually isn't a legend in this AU, Taeko is. Celestia hates that and wants to start a baseball career going international, whatever the hell that means is up to her own definition, but she wants to be remembered forever as Celestia, not Taeko. Also extra sentence, but this is the SINGLE hardest design I've ever had to deal with here, I think in the future I'll be drawing all her little accessories and I have an alt costume for her I have in mind.

Hifumi Yamada - Ultimate Pop Star

So I changed Hifumi's story as I originally outlined in the OG post with him. He was friends with Aoi all his life, pretty much his only friend at all, and ever since he was little he had an obsession with writing songs, because he was obsessed with stuff like anime openings and was content to just keep the songs to himself. It wasn't till Aoi convinced him to share some of his songs that he started his journey to success, but bc he's not traditionally attractive, his first hits were literally just… his voice being played over other more attractive singers and it wasn't until very very recently that he even performed a song of his for the first time.

Toko Fukawa - Ultimate Fanfic Writer

So while Hifumi was clearly a Doujinshi but due to weird translation, ended up as fanfic creator, Touko is straight up a FF then Wattpad then AO3 girl, who would get obsessed with this really shitty, tripe manga that she didn't even like reading. It did however have super hot dudes in it, so she wrote good stories of those characters when she got frustrated with the actual authorial content - which was always.

Yasuhiro Hagakure - Ultimate Gambler

Quite LITERALLY the never stop gambling meme personified into a guy. He can lose 3 mil on slot machines but always comes out fine because it means if he keeps gambling he'll eventually run into his 1/3 and win giga millions, what he needs to pay off his debts. It isn't just with luck though either because his personality and lack of intelligence or understanding of most the rules of the games he plays means he'll never react the way he should when getting a good hand in poker or a bad draw in blackjack, so he wins those games almost always through just… stupidity.

Mukuro Ikusaba - Ultimate Biker

She's number 16 in her gang, and is easily the most loyal enforcer and taskman of the gang. She does anything she's told, to a grim and disciplined degree not typical for hooligan bike gangers, she doesn't really desire a seat as top dog of the gang though, after all she's got school to worry about, and her sister.

Mondo Owada - Ultimate Warlord

So his relationship and Kiyotaka's is gonna be interesting, because I don't want him to be exactly like Mukuro at all, who was just sort of an all-obsessed Yandere. It's more like he's always chafing under Taka, who is less than friendly with him in this AU, really the main way he even lets Taka boss him around is because he pays incredibly well and helps keep his gang members from devolving back into the unstructured, chaotic criminal life, the same that took his brother years ago.

Oh and yeah, he still looks like Guile, as he should.

Sparkling Justice - Ultimate Killer Killer

Yeah it's a reference to Killer Killer, sue me I love the manga. He has Hajirahara's ahoge, and I thought it'd be cute to also give him a mask just like the other Makoto from a Kodaka game series (Raincode.) Also, while Genocide jack stuffs all her scissors in her skirt, Makoto keeps a truth gun with "truth bullets" as his main weapon, the gun he stores inside the big book in the chibi of just Makoto, and the bullets kept on his person as the red buttons all over his body, which he pulls out when he needs to reload.

"Kiyotaka Ishimaru" - Ultimate Fashionista

Unlike Mukuro and Junko, Mondo absolutely cannot hide the fact that he acts nothing like Kiyotaka, though this is surprisingly fine to everyone else, because unlike Junko who plastered herself onto literally everything, Mondo always obfuscated himself from the public spotlight, at most showing only his suits while he hid his face behind something conveniently placed. Which played primarily to his vision of an ultimate fashionista, who was above everyone and catered to the rich and powerful.

Junko Enoshima - Ultimate Moral Compass

This was a fun one, I decided to let her have her red hair because I believe it to be the "natural" look of her hair, while attaching little clips of dyed hair to her buns as a replacement to keep her shape sorta and keep the strawberry blonde somwehere on her. Understand that while she is the "moral compass" she is still pretty deranged, and the only reason she focuses so much on keeping everyone on their best behavior is because it's endlessly entertaining to her to make her fellow moral committee members upset when she blatantly makes a mockery of the rules while still keeping kids on their best behavior to make a point.

Kiyotaka Ishimaru - Ultimate Fashionista and Tyrant, the Iron Hand of Despair

Taka's design I wanted to sort of focus on this sort of, holier-than-thou idea, where I wanted to make him look a lot fancier and upper-class than Junko does in his standard highschool fit compared to him. I wanted him to have an upper-crust sort of look

If you're reading this after reading this all, thanks! You're a wonderful person :) Signing off...

Mani

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist

“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”

“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.

“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”

“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”

“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”

“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”

“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.

Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.

“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.

“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”

Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”

Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.

Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?

Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.

A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.

“Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”

A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”

Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.

Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.

“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.

“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.

“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.

“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.

You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.

“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.

A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.

Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.

Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.

“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”

My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?

The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.

“I love you, Joel.”

You loved him.

What did he ever do to deserve something like that?

Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.

He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.

I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.

I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.

I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.

I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.

Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.

“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”

Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.

Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.

His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.

“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”

He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.

Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.

The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.

He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.

His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.

“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.

“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.

With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”

Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.

His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.

Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.

“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.

It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”

Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.

“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”

Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.

“You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.

“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”

The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.

He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.

Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.

Oh shit.

You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.

“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”

You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.

“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”

You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”

Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”

Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”

Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”

Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”

The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.

“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.

“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.

“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”

Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.

“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”

Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”

tbc

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[perpetuallyconfused10]

Drive Me Home (2/2)

Part 1 Content Warnings: Creep at the Bar™, Soft Hotch WC: 2.5K

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。 “Come on. Just one more!” Emily begs you, her voice loud over the constant chatter. She reaches over the unsettlingly sticky tabletop to grab your forearm, then, sensing your vacancy, searches for another target. “Garcia? JJ?”

Two margaritas and four vodka shots is all it takes to unravel whatever illusion of dignity you’ve managed to scrounge together since joining the BAU. Two margaritas and four shots has you giggling at anything said, funny or not, and struggling to keep your eyes open. Now, if Emily has her way — and you’ve come to learn that she often does when the team unwinds at the bar — a tequila shot is in the cards for you too.

“I’m out.” JJ says with a shake of her head, “Any more and I won’t be alive to see tomorrow morning, let alone Monday.” 

“That’s the whole point,” says a now-pouting Emily as she spins in her seat to hound Garcia into agreeing to another round. The first to Morgan’s at the bar making friends, as he puts it. Watching him with a smile pulling at his lips is Reid, who nurses a soda and regales the rest of you every so often with numerical predictions of his chances for success.

Your head is spinning, and it’s got everything to do with the alcohol flooding your veins, not the unfortunate reality of your boss sitting at the head of the table, with those two top buttons open, exposing just a glimpse of his throat. He’s been checking his watch as often as is socially acceptable. Somewhere deep in the haze of your mind, you suspect Rossi, who's long gone, bullied him into coming. Now he nods along with Reid’s tangents, inserts a comment or two whenever the younger profiler takes a breath.

Emily calls your name once more, pinning her hopes onto you. It’s a rookie mistake you make when you nod, having not processed her question properly. By the time you realize what you’ve agreed to, it’s too late to back out. Suppressing a groan, you grab your card and slide out of the booth. You try not to think about squeezing past Hotch as you do it, try ignoring the warmth that spreads into you when your forearm brushes his shoulder. 

You fail. Sweet as ever, Garcia offers to join you, but you shake her offer off with a smile, standing on only-slightly-unsteady legs and making the short walk to the bar.  

As you slot yourself into the crowd waiting for their drinks, you debate whether Emily will notice you taking a water shot instead of the tequila you’ll buy for her and Garcia. You’re about to take the risk and order one when an unfamiliar hand settles itself on your lower back. Brow furrowing, you whirl around, hoping to see Prentiss or Morgan behind you. 

Those hopes are dashed pretty quickly. A stranger presses in close to your side. His fingers curl around your waist in a manner so confident it’d make you laugh, were you sober enough to react with more certainty. Instead, you shiver. And of course he takes that to be a sign, his grin cheshire-cat-wide. 

“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” you take a moment to respond as you cover his hand with your own, moving it away from you. 

He’s tall, blonde, what many people would deem attractive. But his smile is too quick to appear and just lopsided enough to look practiced. “Not yet,” he says. “What are you drinking?”

“Nothing more now. Just water.”

Your tone is clipped, impersonal, and you hope he gets the message. 

If he does, he chooses to ignore it and steps even closer, reaching the same hand across your body and resting it against the bar, boxing you in against it. The proximity has your stomach sinking. 

Stephen — really, you’ve no idea what his name is, but he looks like a Stephen, and the type to spell it with a ‘ph’ over a ‘v’, just for the status of the extra letter — raises an eyebrow at you. “Just water? Come on, honey. What do you want? It’s on me.”

The pet name sounds wrong on his lips. You’re an FBI agent. You’ve dealt with the sickest people humanity has to offer, seen more in your short time with the team than most people see in their lives. You’re an excellent shot, giving even Morgan a run for his money. You should be more than capable of dealing with a freak who gets a little too close at the bar, for fuck’s sake. 

But you’re tired and a little dizzy, and the scent of his cologne makes your head spin in the wrong kind of way. Emily wouldn’t hesitate to shove him hard, and JJ wouldn’t get herself into this situation in the first place. You’re not Emily or JJ though. You’re just you. 

“Thank you, but I’m really not—” 

The bartender cuts you off to ask for your order, and you try to forget Stephen’s eyes on you as you rattle it off, opting for an extra glass of water just to spite him. 

He isn’t pleased, though his face says otherwise. “You don’t really want that. No strings, I promise. Just let me buy you a drink. Just one.”

You’ve had enough. “I’m not interested.” 

Now the smile drops from his face, leaving it a blank mockery of neutrality that makes you sure ‘no strings’ is an empty promise. He leans in even closer, and you suppress a wince at the sensation of his breath against your skin. “You know, you don’t have to play hard to get.” Stephen’s tone is rougher now, all of its artificial sweetness abandoned. He looks you up and down, eyes the neckline of your shirt with a frown. “It’s obvious what you’re looking for.”

Your throat constricts. The air is hot. Too hot. It’s all you can do to keep your hand steady as you pay for your drinks. “I told you, I’m not looking for anything. Or anyone.”

When the bartender slides your drinks across the bar, you rush to grab them, nearly spilling them in your haste to leave. You’re not that lucky. Stephen’s arm is still in your way. You don’t like how your breathing speeds up, chest heaving just a little despite your attempts to remain unfazed, but it’s all too much. 

Stephen opens his mouth to retort again. 

He doesn’t get far. 

“Move.”

 A new hand settles itself on your back, and its fingers curve ever so slightly around your hip. If you wanted to back away, there’d be more than enough room. But you don’t. 

Turning slightly in Hotch’s hold, you’re not surprised to see him issuing Stephen with the full force of his glare. The creep’s hand retreats, though he stays put otherwise.

“Here, sweetheart,” Hotch takes the tray from you, not even bothering to look at your ‘admirer’ again. His focus is on you, now, and his eyes are soft, one corner of his mouth curving up. “Thought you could use a hand. I think Prentiss might kill you if you drop another of her drinks.”

You manage to pull yourself together enough to roll your eyes. Of course he picks now to bring that up. “That was one time, Aaron. I don’t think she even remembers it.”

Now Stephen turns and walks to the other end of the bar, and you feel your shoulders loosen at the distance. 

Hotch notices, because of course he does. Instead of walking you back to your booth, he stays put and searches your face. “You okay?”

You nod. “Fine. I don’t know why I didn’t…”

Trailing off, you scan the bar. Garcia is laughing at something Prentiss says (some kind of story, based on the gestures she’s making). Reid watches them with fondness in his features, Morgan back and sitting by his side.

“You shouldn’t have had to do anything,” Hotch says quietly. His arm rests by his side now. “I think I’m going to head back. You want to go home?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna call a cab.”

He tilts his head, echoing your words from months ago with just a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Everyone and their mother is calling a cab. I’m driving you.”

“Hotch…” you sigh. You can’t trust yourself, now, not to say the wrong thing, not to comment on the something that’s changed between the two of you since you gave him a ride home, not to wonder if he’s noticed it too. 

“Let me do this for you. Please.”

His insistence is too gentle to argue with. 

“Okay.”

Hotch takes the tray of drinks, leading you back towards the rest of the team. 

“You’re an angel, honey,” Garcia tells you. She squeezes your hand in thanks as Hotch sets down the shots and hands you your water. If anyone noticed anything wrong, they don’t mention it, and you’re grateful for that small mercy.

“I think we’re going to head out now,” says Hotch. His hand hovers just above your back, almost touching you, as he goes on to explain that you aren’t feeling well and shouldn’t chance a cab.

You’re not too drunk to miss the communal grin passing through the group like the flu, so you file it away for later and hug the rest of the team one by one, giving Reid a tired smile and a wave goodbye. 

Hotch leads you out of the bar and out into the cold in search of his car. You feel yourself take a real breath for the first time in a while. 

“Are you alright?”

“Fine. Thank you,” you say, and mean it. The chill in the air helps to clear your head some. At the very least, you don’t feel nearly as drunk as you did inside. 

Hotch hums, unlocking the car. Climbing into the passenger seat, you can’t help but laugh.

“What?”

You look over at him, groan quietly. “You’re a liar, Aaron Hotchner. Your car is so much cleaner than mine.”

It really is. You glance over the interior in search of a coffee stain or a loose wrapper, but come up empty handed. 

“Guilty,” he shrugs. “And it’ll stay that way, if you behave.”

You’re pretty sure your brain short circuits when he puts his hand on the back of your headrest to reverse out of the parking spot. It takes you longer to respond than usual to his gentle taunting. When you do, it’s a little half-hearted. Maybe you aren’t as sober as you thought. 

“Please, Hotch. I’m not about to throw up in your car. I’m not that far gone.” 

“No. You’re not,” he pauses, opening the window anyway. “We’re back to ‘Hotch’, now? What happened to Aaron?”

You give him the most innocent look you can manage and plug your address into his satnav. “You’re right there.”

You’re pretty sure the look he gives you now is reserved for murderers. And clearly, on some occasions, you. 

Eventually, he relents. “You called me ‘Aaron’, earlier.”

“You called me ‘sweetheart’,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself. Resting your chin on your hand, you turn your head to look out of the window. You don’t want to see the smug expression you’ve come to recognise over the past few weeks, reserved almost exclusively for you. You know he wears it now. 

“Did I?”

You don’t answer. Your fingers move to cover your lips, as if that’ll stop you from making more of an idiot of yourself than you already have. 

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you register his sigh. “Look in the side pocket,” he says, his voice quiet.

“What?”

“In the compartment in the door. Take a look.” 

You follow his instructions, finding a few CDs tucked away there. You’re about to tease Hotch for his taste in kids’ audiobooks when you spot it, and feel your breath hitch. 

“Hotch…” You say, turning over the copy of Carole King’s Tapestry in your hands. It’s still wrapped in plastic, still new. Taking the disc out of its case, you look to him for permission before sliding it into the player. “When did you…?”

“Indiana. I saw it a few weeks ago, and it made me think.”

You press play, and I Feel The Earth Move floods the car. “You really didn’t have to—”

“—I wanted to,” he frowns as he says it, determination etched into his face. “I don’t have much of a collection, but it’ll get there.”

A comfortable layer of quiet settles between you as you watch the world move outside, late-night stragglers heading from offices with briefcases in hand, or stumbling out of nearby bars, arm-in-arm and laughing. It’s been a long while since you took that first journey alone with Hotch, since your determination not to think about him in any non-professional way wavered and cracked. Now, weeks later, you take turns to bring each other coffee in the morning. You ask him about Jack and revel in how content he is to talk about his son. You look at him and wonder if this slow, tentative thing you’ve built, this easy friendship, is all you’ll ever share.

If it is, you can’t bring yourself to be upset. But you glance at him now, his hair falling over his forehead, and think to yourself that it might not be.

Three songs or so later, Hotch turns into your street. You point out your apartment and wait for him to turn the engine off, but he doesn’t.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say, simply to have something to say that isn’t an admittal of something you really shouldn’t be confessing to. 

He hesitates. The car stays running. “You’ve got nothing to thank me for.”

You nod towards the CD player, pressing pause. Silence. “Thank you for this, then.”

“It was your idea,” Hotch says, “You’re a lot more thoughtful than you give yourself credit for.”

It’s sweet. Too sweet. 

You laugh at him. “God, you sound like a fortune cookie.”

“I’d make an excellent fortune teller.” 

There’s that tone again. It’s flat, but with something exasperated lingering beneath it, something fond.

“Go on, then. What’s in my future?”

He sighs. “A nasty hangover. And a text or two hundred from Garcia, complaining about hers.”

You snort in acknowledgement. “And what do you see in yours?”

Now he turns the engine off, leaning back against the headrest and turns to study you. His eyes trace from yours down to the curve of your lips, and to where your hands lay intertwined in your lap. For a long moment, he says nothing. Your breath is starting to turn the windscreen foggy. Then, with a gentle grip, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kisses the tender skin on the inside of your wrist. 

“If you’ll have me? Another very uncomfortable conversation with Strauss.”

Your soft, tired smile is answer enough. He leads you to your front door, kisses your forehead, and sees you inside. When that conversation is over, he promises, he’ll be driving you home much more often. 

It isn’t very long before he makes good on it, and Reid is a little richer.

[marthawrites]

Only A Scratch

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 3.4k+

About: Aemond requests you, a healer who has tended to his wounds before, to accompany him on a trip to Duskendale.

Includes: One bed trope! A more balanced mix of plot and porn featuring elements of mean!Aemond, injury, dick sucking, cockslapping, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, and mentions of fem receiving oral sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story is based on a request from @babyaemond with the quote of "you know what your problem is?" with our favorite one-eyed war criminal. Thank you, Chris ily! 💖 I had an absolute blast writing this and I hope you like it too! As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!

-

The realm might not believe it, perhaps not even the occupants and workers of the Red Keep would believe it, but, Aemond Targaryen was a momma's boy. He loved and respected his mother more than anyone else in all the kingdoms. With her nameday coming up, Aemond wanted to get her something extra special.

One afternoon while visiting Helaena during her embroidery time – little niece and nephews playing with him in the middle of the floor – he brought the idea up to his sister. 

"I think that a lovely idea, Aemond. You fetching Duskendale's greatest painter? Mother will hang the portrait somewhere everyone can see," Helaena replied with bright eyes. "And they have those mollusks who produce the most dazzling pearls. You can't go all that way and not get her jewelry!"

Aemond smiled. Helaena and her children were the rare people to draw genuine emotion from the prince. "I will pick something in your honor. Your gift to mother."

"And Aegon?" She asked.

"Aegon won't get any credit for these gifts. He wouldn't even be able to keep the secret, much less add to the surprise."

The princess giggled; unguarded in the company of her family.

-

To say receiving the dragon prince's offer was a surprise would be a vast understatement. He wanted you to go along on this trip with him? Out of all the healers and maesters? Even if you wanted to, you could not tell him no. Bewilderment buzzed around you as you rode out of King's Landing on horseback with him, Ser Arryk, and Ser Erryk.

It wouldn't be a long trip. Perhaps a week, there and back, with some leisure time to enjoy the city when you arrived. 

The twins were a skilled and respectful pair. You felt safe with them. You wondered, mind idly wandering as the twins led the way out of King's Landing, if you were Aemond's first pick for an accompanying medic. Fog rolled up from the sea and blanketed everything with a haunting gray. If it weren't for golden ways of sun piercing through clouds and fog like javelins it would be considerably creepy. Rays brought out your natural coloring, and when you turned to look across your shoulder to prince Aemond he looked wholly regal: silver hair shimmering, riding garb decorated with his House's sigil (as if anyone would need reminded who he was), breath hanging in the chilly morning air like he truly breathed smoke.

He felt you looking at him. "I don't need two eyes to see you staring so hard, girl," he said, turning the full attention of his single eye to you. Lilac. It nearly glowed in the foggy subdued brightness.

"Apologies, your Grace," you said with a guilty little grin. "The last time I saw you I was bandaging your newly stitched thigh. A much different sight than what I have of you now. You clean up well," you said, tiny smirk not leaving the outermost corners of your mouth. "Nasty cut it was… how did it heal?"

His face remained skillfully blank. There could have been a dozen emotions hidden behind that perfected poise; from his posture to the way he held the natural shape of his bowed mouth, he didn't allow you a glimpse into how your words affected him. "It healed well."

"I'm pleased to know I made such an impression that you'd request me to join you on this journey. An honor, truly, my prince," you said with quiet pride.

"There are two women in court who are heavy with babes. Both will be making their entrance into the world and day now. None of the maesters would risk leaving them," he replied with an edge of curtness, words clipped and even. "It was only then I considered you."

Ouch. "Oh," you said, a little taken back. "Well, I still stand by what I said," you added, trying your best to deflect the sting his words gave you.

"Hm," he hummed, smug. It was his turn to smirk, now.

The rest of that first day’s ride went relatively smooth and uneventful. That is, until Aemond got bucked off his horse. It was a miracle you were able to stay on yours! The twins’ horses, while still terribly frightened, appeared to be of a more mellow mind for they were able to be soothed while Arryk scouted ahead to see what might have caused the fright. You dared not leave yours during the ordeal in case you needed to get a galloping headstart. Tension hung in the air until Arryk came back. “A black bear is perhaps a quarter mile away,” he said upon arriving. “I didn’t see any cubs and the beast seemed unbothered by me. It was gorging on berries. Are you alright, my prince?”

Luckily Aemond was able to break his fall. Unfortunately it came at the cost of landing on his forearm upon a ridiculously sharp rock. A jagged cut ripped through his riding gear and into his leanly muscled flesh. You had helped wrap it with a clean linen bandage for now, but crimson bloomed beneath the binding. He would likely need stitches once all of you were settled into an inn for the night. “‘Tis only a scratch. Let’s get to the next town before nightfall, yeah?”

Arryk stole a glance with you, and then his brother, and you once more before nodding to Aemond. "A scratch," his eyes had silently said to you; a flash of sarcasm gone quicker than a blink.

The next town on the road to Duskendale was small and hardly worth mentioning on a map. Climbing roses in full bloom covered the inn's facade making it quaint and homely alike; their heady aroma lingered heavily and you wished you could bottle the fragrance. Echos of the scent followed you inside and mingled with savory foodsmells of dinner. 

"'Fraid we're about full t'night. I hope you all don't want separate rooms," a middle-aged man with wild eyebrows said from behind the bar. He leaned on it as he looked all of you over. "Ain't seen one of you Targaryens around in awhile. Pleasure ta have you, Prince Aemond. Now, what can I do for you lot?"

"Three rooms and dinner for everyone. That's all," Aemond replied as he produced payment for the innkeep.

Turning, the man inspected what keys were left. "Hmm… I have only two rooms available." Pulling the keys from their hooks he handed them over. "One bed in each of 'em."

Yet another tense silence fell over the group. The unmistakable tingle of a blush rushed to your face. Shit shit shit.

"We need three. Surely you can kick someone out for the night," Aemond said a bit too sharply, fingers reaching for another few coins to bribe the man.

"Ha!" He guffawed. "No can do. Prince or no, I have a good reputation and I don't intend on breakin' it."

The twins shared an amused glance and you wanted to die.

"Fine," Aemond said as he took the keys and tossed one set to Arryk and Erryk. "See you at first light to break fast before leaving."

You followed Aemond into the room you'd be sharing for the night. One bed. You hoped it was a big one.

Once inside, any hope of surviving the night with all your sanity and wit vanished in an instant. The bed was tiny. And, as if things could get any worse, there was only one pillow and blanket. Surely Prince Aemond Targaryen never considered this happening.

Tension crackled between you two and you wanted to jump out the equally tiny window and run all the way back to King’s Landing. "At… at least neither of us will be cold in the middle of the night?" You half-stammered, trying, feebly, to break the silence.

"You better not snore, girl." He flashed you an icy glare but the smirk of his mouth spoke to something else. Amusement? A challenge? "I'm going to bathe."

While he was gone you were left to stew on the current predicament. Ever since you first laid eyes on the young prince he never left your brain. To you, he was unbearably dashing and roguishly handsome. He was cold, cruel (according to rumors), and smug in a way that made you want to strangle him and drown him in kisses alike. Over the last year or so you'd helped tend to his wounds a few different times, and each time you left with more butterflies in your belly than before. They said his kin were closer to Gods than men, and you believed it.

After hardly eating during the day you were half-starved. You ate your dinner while he was still gone, and left for the women's side of the bathing quarter before he returned. In your experience not all inn's had the space for a proper bath – you weren’t going to pass this up. 

Upon returning – clean, refreshed, and still warm from the bath – you saw Aemond laying on the bed in his nightclothes with his uninjured arm tucked behind his head. It was stupid – absolutely fucking stupid – how handsome he looked in such a regular position. He was all long, and lean, and sharp angles. You wondered if he housed any softness within himself. He'd got a fire going in the small mantle and it crackled peacefully. Light and shadows accentuated the natural lines of his chiseled face, eyepatch practically orange in the glow. After a moment of awkwardly fumbling with your damp hair, you asked, "how's your arm?"

"'Twas only a scratch. I'm fine," he answered, making no move to shift his position to make more room for you on the bed.

"You're lying. It bled through your bandage on the way here," you retorted, squinting at him suspiciously.

He sighed. "And now it's done bleeding."

Turning, you double checked the latch on the door. Sure of the lock you turned back to Aemond. "Can I at least see it?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Are you deaf, or daft?"

It was your turn to glare at him. "You know, I never truly believed the rumors of you being cruel." You threw a cloth you’d used to help dry your hair onto the table as you stepped, firmly and deliberately, across the small room to the bed. "But now I believe it. You know what your problem is? You are rude." Without allowing yourself to process what you were doing – and not giving him a moment to, either – you were straddling over his lap. Demanding. Determination hardened your features. "Let me see it."

Aemond tensed beneath you and the pupil of his eye swelled. He wasn't expecting this. His jaw feathered as the hand behind his head immediately lunged forward to grab your throat. Squeezing gently, warningly, he smirked. "And you know what your problem is? You are an insolent brat." Your eyes softened to those of a doe and it sent his cock twitching beneath your thinly covered center. "Mayhap you forget who you are speaking to, girl."

Breath shuddered from your lungs. You felt him beneath you and it instantly sent fire rolling through your belly. Desire. Lust. So easily he turned your irritation to something else entirely. "I only want to check on it," you said against his careful grasp, trying your best to appear innocent.

He laughed. "Climbing on my lap like this I think you want something else. Tell me… what more does this bratty little mouth do?" With his question he slowly released his hold from your throat, thumb trailing across the softness of your bottom lip. The darkness of his eye glinted when he heard a faint whimper tickle up through your chest. "You'll have to be louder than that…"

Without having to be told you grazed your tongue along his curious thumb, pulse hammering behind your ribs and between your legs alike. Could he feel how hot you were? Boldness coursed through your blood. "Your Grace…," you simpered, looking at him with dazed eyes. "I've wanted you for so long." You dared to nip the tip of his thumb, gently rolling your tongue beneath it. He tasted clean with hints of wood and smoke from stoking the fire. It made you ache.

"I've other things that need tending to, now. Perhaps if you play by my rules I'll play by yours," he proclaimed, pushing his digit further into your mouth. He hissed quietly with the sensation. Greed and need simmered in his chest, threatening to boil over. You weren’t even doing anything and yet you still drove him near wild.

Your hands spread across his chest. “Those are fair terms,” you said with a playful tilt of your head. Your eyes roamed over his throat and what was exposed of his collarbone. Sleek, pale, warm. He was so warm. How could he be when it was so chilly? You unlaced the lazily tied strings of his cotton sleep shirt, fingernails gently scratching down his front. You smiled when he hissed another inward breath. Beneath you, he neared full hardness. “Needy prince…,” you crooned, sliding from his lap as elegantly as you could so you were laying between his legs. You stroked along his cock through his cotton sleep pants, teasing. “Perhaps Targarenys are closer to men than Gods after all.”

"I like you better with something in your mouth," he said, tutting, as he shifted his legs a bit to give you more room. Now he moved, you thought, how generous of him.

Vibrating with your own need and impatience, you unlaced the front of his pants and tugged them down just enough for his cock to spring free. You gasped, satisfied. "So big, your Grace." He had a lovely cock. Truly. It was hot and solid in your hand when you stroked it, head blushed and swollen without you even having to tug downwards on his length. 

You'd be lying if you didn't secretly hope something like this would happen with the tension of sharing a bed and room. But this? You licked up the underside of his shaft, wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking, and moaned at the sensation and taste.

Aemond groaned. "Is this what all you little medics do, hm? Tend to broken men before swallowing their cock?" He taunted, glaring at you triumphantly, mouth parted in silent bliss.

Instead of answering him verbally, you took more of his length into your wanting mouth. Flattening your tongue against him allowed you to hollow your cheeks. You looked up at him all the while, basking in the way his features changed; the way he somehow tensed and relaxed at the same time. You dragged your mouth up until only his sensitive head was wrapped by your lips, then down, lower, and up again.

"Fuck…," he groaned, eye rolling closed. One hand gripped into the thin faded sheets while his other moved to your damp hair. He threaded his fingers through it, gripping, tugging, just slight. 

Your eyelids trembled as a needy whine broke free from your lips. He popped free from your mouth with the noise. You chased his cockhead; wanton. Saliva built in your mouth and the sounds of you lavishing his cock were borderline obscene. You willingly choked on him; you throbbed as you squeezed your thighs together.

He grinned when you came up for air. His hand unfurled from the bedclothes and moved to the base of his length. He gripped himself and held your head still by your hair, expression widening with smug pride. He smacked his cock against the side of your face, traces of your saliva shiny on your skin. "Who knew my favorite little healer was such a whore, too," he purred. A second and third series of smacks followed. 

Bolts of lust jolted right to your core. You clenched around nothing; arousal gushing from you like syrup. "Aemond…," you gasped, vision hazy. "Please," you begged, unsure what you were truly begging for.

Him. Just him. Whatever he would give you.

"Such a pretty sound from your lips," he said, darkly and adoringly, as he delivered a final slap of his cock to the silky skin of your mouth. He leaned forward and grabbed you by the sides of your arms, pulling you up so you were nearly nose to nose. Without even looking he raked the hems of your sleep gown up while simultaneously yanking your smallclothes down. His fingers slid up your folds, testing your arousal. What he felt sent the entirety of his manhood aching. 

He had to be inside you. Now. 

"This little cunny is soaking. I don't even have to prepare you," he growled, shoving a long finger up into you without hesitation.

You might have peaked from that alone if he'd kept his digit inside you. If he pumped it. If he added a second. But, no, the prince did neither. When he pulled it from you he instantly brought it to his mouth and smeared your slick across his tongue. He smirked and you were sure you'd never been so desperate in your life.

Once again he gripped the sides of your arms and pushed you down into the old used mattress. He maneuvered behind you with ease. True to his word he didn't have to prepare you so he didn't. The young dragon prince guided himself right to your dripping center and eased forward. 

You arched deeper beneath him, supporting yourself on your knees while propping your ass up as much as you could. The stretch your body yielded to his sizable intrusion was glorious. You moaned, barely able to bite it back as he buried all of his rigid inches into your core. When he pulled back to snap his hips into you, you cried out his name.

"Be a good girl and shut up. Unless you want everyone in this inn to know what's going on in here," he said huskily behind you, the tremble in his voice betraying his outwardly restraint.

You tried to be quiet. You really did. But his hand holding the hair at the nape of your neck, and the lewd slaps of your smacking skin, and the pant of his breaths, had you wild with bliss and excitement. "So good… fuck! Aemond…! S-so good," you whimpered, body becoming lighter by the second.

The half babbled praises from your pretty mouth had the prince soaring. He gripped harshly onto one of your hips while the fingers of the other snaked beneath your pelvis to work your clit. "Wanna eat this pretty cunt 'til you're crying, too. Will you let me?"

"Please! Yes, yes, yes please," you answered as if in prayer.

His pace quickened, the angle of his strokes hitting you deep and hard, cockhead dragging and battering against that wonderful patch of nerves inside your walls. Leaning forward, his silken hair tickled your back. He bit into your shoulder, harshly drawing your flesh between his teeth so he could mark you.

You squirmed beneath him. Gasping, you basked in the sharp sensation of his teeth. It was the final thing you needed to lose yourself to the euphoria.

"Give it to me," Aemond growled in your ear. "Give your Prince your pleasure. Squeeze my cock like the little whore you are."

You did.

He fucked you through it, chasing his own high all the while. When you became too loud he turned your face into the mattress to muffle your noises. It helped. It also made all those sounds all the sweeter. For Aemond, it was the final thing he needed to lose himself as well. With a groan from deep within his chest, he pulled out of you at the last second and released his spend all over your back. It shone upon your skin. He couldn't help but admire it and he had half a mind to make you sleep with it on your back; marking you with his teeth and scent alike.

Slowly, you both came down from the natural high of orgasm. That cloth you brought in earlier was put to good use. 

"I don't mind that the bed is so small, now," you said as you both got comfortable beneath the blanket. Laying on your sides seemed the best way; him, the big spoon.

"Me either," he replied, a grin audible in his voice.

You found yourself no longer caring about the state of his arm. Not with the way it laid over your waist and rested up between your breasts. He held you against him.

Sleep came easy. 

When you woke up to Aemond's morning-stiff cock against your back you knew you had to find a reason to share a room with him for every night of the journey.

He would make it happen, he told himself, as he drew a lovely climax from you with his mouth before burying himself into you once again. All, before dawn cracked over the horizon.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

To be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know!

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @targaryenbrainrot @ruby-dragon @bloodwyrmcaraxes @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

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[lace-and-straps]

Thinking about her dressing me up in a cute dress to take me out shopping. Nothing too scandalous but it flatters me well enough. Before we leave she bends me over and puts a vibrating plug in my ass held in place by my thong.

"Oh you look so cute all dolled up! You've been such a good girl lately, and i wanted to reward you with some new cute outfits to wear"

That sounds so fun! I love the way she looks at me when I'm wearing cute things for her. When we arrive at the store before we get out of the car she stops me and hands me two things, an N95 mask and a gag shaped like the head of a cock.

"I thought you could use some more practice with a cock in your mouth. You look so cute when you're sucking on one and I can do all of the talking for you"

I put the gag in my mouth and she activates my plug at the same time sending waves of pleasure through me. She helps me secure the gag under my hair and then places the mask over that. If someone were to look closely, they might spot that something was odd but it's surprisingly discreet.

We enter the store and she picks out skirts and short shorts and dresses to try on all the while playing with the toy in my ass making my knees a little shakey. I can't help but slide my tongue all over the cock head lodged in my mouth feeling its lovely textures and trying desperately not to let any of my drool slip out of my mouth.

"You're being such a good girl right now that I think I'm going to get you something extra. Would you like that?"

I nod with a barely contained wimper and she leads be toward the lingerie section giving my ass a playful squeeze. On the way there she cranks the vibe up to a higher setting leaving me desperately trying to hold in my moans and whimpers. She selects a few bras, a fine selection of sophisticated black satin, regal purple lace, and cute pink straps with panties to match. She pulses the vibe up to its max when she finds something she's really excited about. I can feel myself leaking and I can barely stand from the pleasure shes granting me. Despite my best efforts I can feel the mask getting more and more wet from the sticky drool that manages to escape my panting sucking mouth.

"You're doing so good! I think it's about time we tried all these cute clothes on don't you? That's a good girl"

We slip into a fitting room and I start trying on and modeling all the clothes she's picked out for me. She pulses the vibe while I'm wearing something she really likes. Once we've narrowed down our favorites she leans in close to my ear.

You've been such a good girl enduring all my teasing. Do you want to cum for me in this fitting room like a good little slut?

I nod, desperation in my eyes and try not to moan too loudly around the gag.

Good girl!

She starts stroking my naked cock as i try to stifle my whimpers and moans around the cock in my mouth. It doesn't take long to get me to my limit.

Are you going to cum for me baby? Good girl! Cum for me. Cum.

I explode in waves of orgasmic bliss, the pleasure pulsing out of my cock. I try not to scream as the ropes of my cum paint the mirror.

That's my good girl. My what a mess you've made, take a moment to collect yourself and then help me clean it up.

She removes the gag from my mouth and directs me to lick my cum off the mirror. It's still hot and salty. Any of it that fell on the floor we wipe up with the thong I came in wearing which she puts back on me the cum sticky against my skin.

We go out and purchase my clothes and she leaves a hefty tip in their jar.

[thesparklingwriter]

the stars don't shine as bright as you...

“And what of it? Am I not allowed to praise my wife?”

tags: established relationship, fem!reader, fluff, reader is overworking herself and zhongli says NO MORE A THAT

masterlist | ao3 link | taglist | next

The best part of any of your days is easily when you can curl up in bed and relax for a while before you go to sleep. It wasn’t always like this, however. You used to work until it was time to go to bed and spent hours tossing and turning before sleep called your name, but Zhongli put a stop to that fairly quickly. He’ll quietly sneak up to your desk and tell you when to relinquish your work and head to bed when he notices that you’re too engrossed in it to realise the time.

“You’re still working, love?” He says quietly to you one night, glancing over your shoulder at the papers you’re working on. He knows they’re important to you, but he also knows you’ve been working on them so long that unless you take a break, you’ll be unable to pick up any inconsistencies or mistakes.

“Mmm,” you reply quietly. “I have to make sure it’s good enough.”

“I am certain it is of an impeccable standard.” he says quietly. It’s then that you notice he’s starting his nightly routine of trying to drag you away from work to get you to bed, and you begin to dig your heels in.

“It’s not enough. This needs to be perfect, otherwise my boss won’t be best pleased.”

“I assume your boss would be more displeased if they had to contend with their best employee when she’s sleep-deprived.” He says quietly. “Come to bed.”

“You’re so clearly biased.” you scoff, looking up at him as he rests his hands on your shoulders, gently kneading them.

“And what of it? Am I not allowed to praise my wife?”

“You’re not allowed to try and tempt her to sleep with honeyed words.” You sigh, putting your pen down. Zhongli smiles slightly when he notices your compliance, gently pulling you into a hug as you stand from your desk. He’s right, and you know he is, but it doesn't make it easier for you to drag your eyes away from the pages of paper strewn across your desk. As you let him lead you upstairs to your room, you notice that the sun has long since settled, and the stars are beginning to twinkle in the sky. Usually, Zhongli would have pulled you away from your work earlier than this. You wonder if he was equally busy and simply forgot, or just knew that you would want the extra time to look over your report.

Your husband is quiet as he settles himself in bed, and you change into one of his silken pyjama shirts. You pretend not to notice the shameless way he watches you as you change clothes, or as you scour the bookshelves for something to read. You could have sworn you left the book you were reading last night on the third shelf, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Did you reorganise the shelves?” You ask, as you try to reach the fourth shelf up. “You reorganised the shelves, didn’t you?”

Zhongli’s unruffled gaze persists as he replies. “I did. I thought it might be more favourable to organise the books by last name, rather than first.”

“Did you have to put my book so high up?”

“Despite my attempts to avoid doing so, the method of organisation required it, yes. Does it displease you that much?”

You sigh at him then, having retrieved your book and being met with his faux innocence. He looks strangely regal with his hair untied, and the first few buttons of his golden embroidered shirt undone, his head cocked slightly to the side as he pretends to not understand your mild irritation at his actions. His eyes follow you as you crawl into bed beside him, opening your book to the bookmarked page. You never have any recollection of putting the bookmark in your book nor where it comes from in the first place, but you simply assume you do it without realising before you sleep.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

You lean against Zhongli as you prepare to read your book, and he hums lightly in response. You always assume that he isn’t following along, that he’s simply preoccupied with his thoughts, until he gently holds one side of the book’s pages for you so you can be more comfortable, and reacts to the words on the page with an affronted sniff or a preoccupied hum. When you look at him, as if to ask ‘did you see what that guy just did?’ whenever something unfavourable happens, he enthusiastically  returns your incredulous stare every time. Sometimes you wonder whether he drags you to bed because he wants you to sleep early or because he wants to know what happens next.

When he feels your head slump further against his chest, and the pages of your book flutter as you release your grip on it, he carefully retrieves the bookmark from wherever you’ve stashed it, placing it a few pages back from where you’ve left it.  You never remember the last few pages of what you’ve read the next night and it leaves you reasonably frustrated every time.

He gently pries the book from your fingers, waiting until you’re deeper into sleep to move you so you can sleep comfortably, and places the book by your bedside table.

© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.

notes: is this self indulgent? yes. it this my blog first and foremost? also yes. will i do it again? most likely.

taglist: @thelonelyarchon @aixaingela @medusuu

[graveyardlifeguard]

Survivors Part 1

Summary: Occurs during the events of Season 4x13 and Season 4x14.

*This is my first attempt at writing after many, many years so please go easy on me*

Warnings: Shooting, Injury, Blood

Strictly Angst with a teeny tiny bit of Fluff

Eddie Diaz x Paramedic! Reader

The shift started out as normal as it usually did. I mean, as normal as it could for the 118. I had picked up an extra night shift to try and help C Shift with a staffing issue they were currently having. Eddie, my fiancée, had already gone home for the night after our regular shift. As much as I would have loved to go home with him, I knew the extra money would be nice to have for the costs of planning a wedding.

I had only been at work for 3 hours, but I was already exhausted after having a cardiac arrest and a car flip over on the highway. Back-to-back. Shutting the back doors of the ambulance after restocking, I made my way upstairs to the kitchen area to grab a snack. It was currently 10pm and everyone else was in bed for the night. Right after grabbing a left-over slice of pizza out of the fridge, the bell and pager went off once again for a sick call at a nearby apartment complex.

My partner for the night, Alicia, quickly made her way out of the dorm rooms before shuffling towards the truck.

"Is there no such thing as a break?!" She yells from the passenger side of the truck.

I laugh as I move down the stairs towards the driver's side.

"What does the nice, bustiling city have for us this time?" I ask as Alicia looks over the computer, that is still updating with notes from the caller.

I start the truck up and we exit the station driving down the still busy city roads. Alicia lets me know that were going to The Regal Point Apartments for a 13-year-old male complaining of not feeling well. His mom called, concerned that her son's condition was deteriorating.

Pulling up to the apartment complex, Alicia grabs the medical bag while I grab the LifePak monitor. Luckily, this apartment complex has an elevator, so we don't have to trudge our way up four flights of stairs. Once at the correct apartment, the patient's mother, who introduces herself as Sheila. Alicia and I introduce ourselves with Sheila pointing us towards her son's bedroom. While walking towards his bedroom she begins to talk to us about his medical history.

"His name is Charlie, he's 13-years-old. He has an Auto-Immune disorder that forces him to stay inside all the time. The only times he gets to leave the house are to go to one of his many doctors' appointments."

Entering Charlie's room, Alicia once again introduces us and asks if she can check his vital signs. He agrees with Alicia beginning to check his blood pressure. Even in the small glow from his bedside lamp, I can see that Charlie looks sick. He appears pale with dark bags sitting underneath his eyes. Overall, he looks exhausted.

After checking all of his vital signs and talking to Sheila and Charlie more, I had a weird feeling start to form in my stomach. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something just did not feel right. The way that his mom seemed evasive with his full diagnosis and couldn't remember his medications, something just seemed...wrong. When Alicia asked the mom about us taking him to the hospital, she quickly stated that she does not believe that he needs to go to the hospital due to him having a weak immune system.

"Ma'am we understand your concerns, but we always recommend people go to the hospital to get checked out. Especially when they are as sick as Charlie is." I try once again.

Alicia was packing up the bag as Sheila repeats that she does not want Charlie to go. "I'll call his primary care doctor in the morning and see if they will see him." She states with a kind smile on her face.

The odd feeling again returns before we exit the house. Getting back in the truck, I keep the uneasy feeling to myself as Alicia writes the refusal report. I wait for her to finish typing before asking her.

"Did that seem odd to you?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, still looking over the report.

"Just the story of his diagnosis and things like that. She just seemed to have a lot of empty answers." I reply back.

"I didn't really get a weird feeling, but I also was talking more to Charlie than I was to the mom." She answers again.

"Something just seems off to me. Maybe I am just thinking too far into it." I state. I mean, it is late, the mom is probably tired after spending the day taking care of her son. That's what we will have to go with for now as Dispatch alerts us to another call we're needed on. 

————

"How come you don't make this kind of breakfast for me when we're at home?" Eddie states as he comes bouncing into the kitchen. He's in full uniform which makes it hard for me to not turn around and admire him. I had always loved a man in uniform but there was just something about him in one that made it twenty times better.

"I only cook when I am here because if I start cooking at home, that means you'll expect it, and we can't have that." I reply to him.

He laughs before sneaking a quick kiss on my lips before lifting up my left hand and kissing my ring finger. Even though my engagement ring wasn't there, the little rubber one that replaced it on shift was still just as meaningful. Butterflies erupt in my heart at the small interaction.

Eddie coming to the 118 was the absolute best thing to ever happen to me. Before he arrived, I was a shy little Paramedic who just came to work to run calls and go home. My best friend Buck had been whining forever that I never went out and never spent any time living my life. Whatever that meant. Eddie being here brought out a whole new side of me that Buck says he had always been waiting to see. It was not just Eddie though; Christopher had been another missing piece in my life that I never knew I needed. It had been so easy to turn into a motherly figure for him. When he proposed, Eddie had made sure to include Christopher in it. Mostly because Christopher wouldn't allow him to not include him.

The station bell went off sharply, alerting everyone to a call. "I guess breakfast will just have to wait until later." I yell out downstairs to the crew as I shut off the stove and run downstairs. Hen and Chimney jump into the ambulance while I make my way to the Critical Care SUV. Right after getting engaged to Eddie, I had been promoted to a Critical Care Responder, aka Lieutenant. Which was a fancy way of saying that I had more responsibilities while riding by myself. I hop into the truck and make my way to the call behind the Fire truck and the Ambulance.

Arriving at the call, I let Captain Nash and his crew manage the situation. The best part about my new role, I had Chim and Hen underneath me, which meant they were more than capable of handling anything. I was more along the lines of helping hands when needed with these two. After realizing that I was not needed for this call and hearing another more critical call come out, I let everyone know I was leaving before hurrying on to the next call.

————

"Where did you disappear off to earlier?" I hear Eddie say from behind me.

I had just returned to the station after being gone for most of the day. I turn in my seat so I can fully see him. He's leaning against the door frame of my office with a small smile sitting on his face. As nice as it was to work together, it seemed almost impossible most of the time to actually see him. I smile up at him as he walks over and sits on the corner of my desk.

"I couldn't seem to find my way back here today. Everyone needed something at some point." I state as I lean forward to make some sort of physical contact with him, granted it was just my elbow touching his knee, but hey, it was something.

"I'm tired of everyone needing my girl today. I know you're great and all but damn." I laugh and shake my head at his compliment. He knew that calling me "his girl" was a sure-fire way to my heart. 

"Listen, if you need me while you're out there, all you have to do is call me. That's what everyone else likes to do!" I remind him with a smile on my face.

He smiles back at me, and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. We're stuck like that for a moment, just smiling at each other alone in my office.

Eddie glances between me and the still open office door before pulling me to stand in front of him. Before I can ask him what he's doing, his lips are on mine like he hasn't kissed me in months. I quickly return the kiss and allow myself to enjoy the mental break. Before it can get too heavy, Eddie pulls away but just far enough away that our foreheads are still touching. We are both smiling like cheshire cats, and I don't think anything could be better than this. I pull back further and smile up at him.

"Not that I didn't enjoy that, what was that for?" I ask, still smiling. He just stares down at me before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I just missed my girl. That's all." Before I can respond to him, the station bell goes off once more alerting Eddie to another call. His head falls backwards with a groan escaping his mouth. I snort at his dramatics and place a kiss on his lips before pulling him out of the office. "Where are you going? You didn't get added to this." He asks as we walk towards the bay.

"I might as well grab a drink before I dive back into my paperwork." I tell him.

As we enter the bay and begin to separate, I feel a light smack on butt. The surprise of it caught me off guard causing me to lightly jump and yell out. I can hear Eddie laughing as he runs off towards the truck to leave. "I love you!" He yells out before hopping in the back. Eddie Diaz was going to be the death of me.

[pupyr0arz]

To Color

to influence, especially in a negative way; distort or exaggerate.

Soap x m!reader: references to reader being AMAB, being a gay man, being in a gay relationship, etc. minimal pronouns. Part 1.

Summary: Every human on earth sees the world in blacks and whites and grey until they touch a specific individual, romanticized as their fates love. You don’t buy into that, you’re happy as you are and don’t need or want a stranger barging into your life just because your eyes decided they were important. Johnny disagrees with this conclusion.

warnings: Johnny is a bad, bad man, and reader is going to be miserable for a while, sorry. General cws for creepy, pushy behavior, sexual harassment, stalking, and Johnny not respecting Reader’s autonomy or ability to choose. More warnings may be added. Mentions of sex. Minors DNI

@gatlily @focalor-hydro-archon hey pst. Pssst.

Soulmates are overrated, overhyped, over-mentioned, over talked about. It’s awfully inescapable, in movies, in ads, on the news, in books, and the looks you get for complaining about it, like you’ve declared a blood feud on the concept. You just want some peace from the expectation and all the assumptions of glitz and glamor for five goddamn seconds, but lately that blood feud is looking mighty tempting.

Your cynicism in regards to fated lovers wasn’t part of anything dramatic, like in the movies where the skeptic always got revealed to be the child of a divorce caused by soulmates or something equally inane. Your parents weren’t soulmates, which was honestly average. Most people never met their soulmates and lived perfectly fulfilling lives. Soulmates weren’t the end all be all of love, and when they did show up they certainly didn’t all fall into the simple shapes a romcom would tell you.

Your father could see color, his soulmate was platonic in his cousin, the two of them were close friends and they lived just down the street. You’d come up on the porch while your cousins played in the yard and sipped sour lemonade and bother them about how colors looked, and they’d argue about shades and how to describe it. Your father always wanted you to meet your soulmate, wistfully regaling the first time he ever saw the blueness of the sky. Uncle Jeremy would just pinch your cheek and wave you off with a laugh. You had a really normal childhood, honestly.

You got tired of the game in high school, when blossoming hormones and teen drama rocked the school for weeks on end over and over about the same damn things. You were old enough to really have coherent opinions about the world, and fated lovers had turned from funny stories from your father and ads on tv to in your face irritants. One of your friends friends faked seeing color for two weeks to date a guy she really liked. You weren’t extremely close to either, you sat with them at lunch and watched them in periods and they seemed happy. He dumped her in a flash, and moped around school afterwards and all you could think about was why color seemed to matter so much to people.

It sounded fantastical, sure, you wouldn’t mind having an extra sense. You daydreamed about color coming to you in a whirl, setting the world alight in a billion lights, seeing things in new clarity and depth. It was hard to imagine, some other attribute lurking just outside of vision that stained the world in strange, vivid ways.

Bonded people opened museums, attractions built for viewing color in odd ways that blended and blurred together to your black and white vision. Hidden objects and paintings and other things that they cooed over, long essays about vibrancy and the million metaphors for color. You don’t really buy into any of it, if you could taste the crispness of a shade of ‘red’ then what’s the deal with feeling it with your eyes? You’ve eaten apples before, you don’t need to see the flavor to enjoy it. Why should you be so desperate to sacrifice so much, when you already have senses that give you joy?The thing is, with fantastical things is that they’re fantasy, they aren’t grounded in anything solid or real, and you weren’t enthusiastic to take that leap of faith and step onto open air and pray it was a trust fall, not a jump to your death.

You could live without color, and honestly thousands and thousands of people got on perfectly fine. It’s not like any part of society was really based on seeing color these days, other than the fine arts. You weren’t artsy anyways, you never managed to get into it. So what if you didn’t really know whatever ‘green’ really was, did it really mean the end of the world? the end of a relationship? Why would you throw away something that made you happy, something stable, for a complete stranger? Your mother was perfectly happy with your father, and she had never met her soulmate. What if your soulmate was a family member, or a friend? Why did everyone always hold out hope they’d find a perfect marriage partner, when it seemed like soulmate bonds could be something like a perfect smoking buddy to a perfect brother? Honestly, romance didn’t seem so dependent on the whole farce at all. You could build something that didn’t need anything but whites and blacks and all of the shades between. You might not be able to see the red of a rose, but you could enjoy the shades of gray that painted the world with someone you could trust to always hold your hand and have your back.

You dated a handful of people, most of whom were still holding out hope of brushing fingers with their ‘truest love’ to see the beauty in the world. As you got older, more likeminded people cropped up, less likely to vanish and ghost you to wander off on their ‘journey’ to find their soulmate. You had your first kiss, lost your virginity, moved in and out with other people. Relationships blossomed and fizzled and died and you picked yourself up afterward with the occasional thought of ‘Jesus, I couldn’t imagine trying to make THAT one work as my one and only’ before you carried on. But all of that was before, in the section of your life cut so neatly and sharply in two that it was hard to believe they were ever, or could ever be joined.

All before you met him.

You met him on a dating app, which was remarkable enough. It was built for quick hookups, but most dating apps that advertised themselves for long term relationships were soulmate based and you found that crowd to be endlessly irritating. He’s bi-curious, you’re the first man he’s ever dated and honestly that almost turns you off entirely. But you decide you have no better prospects at the moment, so what the hell.

Charlie’s cute, and he greets you with a nervous smile and can barely meet your eyes, he tells you with red eats that he’s ninety nine percent sure that he’s gay and that his friend has been begging him to just take them plunge and you nod and give him some dutiful advice. You’re definitely not looking to be a guys experiment, that rarely ends well, but he invites you out to dinner where he loosens up after a glass and goes on an impassioned rant about theater etiquette and suddenly things are actually interesting and you’re talking too loudly for the table over but you couldn’t care less.

He’s funny, nervous but out there and you talk about musicals you’ve never heard of and tv shows he’s never seen for forty five minutes before you reach across the table and grab his wrist. The sex is light, he makes you laugh through blunders like banging his head against the wall and you kiss afterwards and it feels light and sweet. It’s blissful, honestly, something you’ve forgotten you were missing at all until you’ve been handed it. You keep things non penetrative, he’s far from trying bottoming and you’re not a fan of being on the other side of it, and you have plenty of fun keeping him awake with all the other options. You talk to him again the next day, and then the next, and then his number is in your phone and you’ve been going steady for months.

Charlie isnt a perfect Prince Charming, he’s got his issues. He’s over the top and he pushes himself to meet standards and crumbles at the last second and you’ve had your fair share of screaming arguments. Work is stressful and some nights you go to bed in different rooms because you can’t stand dealing with him. You have your own issues and Charlie complains more than once, rightfully you’re forced to admit, about you being cold and reclusive when you get angry at him, and you’ve had to buy apology ice cream more than a couple times. But you have movie nights and kisses and cake together and a warm, building feeling in your chest. You go out to the zoo, try and fail to learn how to knit together and eat buttered toast with too much black pepper over the kitchen sink on Saturday mornings. You don’t get into anal but he gets really good at giving blowjobs, and those slept mornings spend kissing and exploring each others bodies fill you with a precious glow.

Charlie isn’t your one size fits all, but you’ve managed to find him a slot in your puzzle, and built him a home in your heart together. You love Charlie, and he loves you too, tells you so with cheesy flowers and you buy him one of those dumb necklaces that click together that you totally don’t love. He brings you lunch at work and you drive him home from visiting his parents, and your friends are fine enough with his to go drinking together every couple of times. His best friend does your tarot readings and gets an awful tattoo you laugh about together. You cry and he doesn’t

Life is good. It’s not effortless, it’s not magic, but it’s good because you made it so. You’ve pushed and pulled and made something with your bare hands, and you have the luxury to sit back and watch the alabaster glow of the sun brighten Charlie’s face into a million beautiful shades of gray.

Life settles into a comfortable rhythm, and soon Charlie’s inviting you as plus one to a wedding and you start thinking about rings and commitment.

That’s all before you met him, though.

It happens like in a storybook, so trite that hours after it happens you’re wondering if you suffered some serious brain damage. Maybe you got hit by a car, or had a delayed reaction to the weed your friend passed you last week, or something happened to scramble your thoughts into this strange new unreality.

You’re visiting the library when it happens, dropping by after your shift to pick up some new reading material, not looking where you’re going. Charlie’s texting you a million and a half recommendations while you’re planning on picking up some awful garbage to groan and complain about later while he makes fun of you, and you’re typing a dick joke involving one of the sillier titles you spotted on the shelves. You bump into him, not a shoulder check but you run into him like a wall and he barely stumbles back. You’re not a small guy in the slightest but he’s built like a brick shithouse, Jesus.

“Ah, hell, sorry man.” You apologize, giving him a sheepish smile. “My foul. I should watch where I’m going.”

He doesn’t puff up with anger or anything but flashes you a toothy smile, so you relax. “Dinnae worry ‘bout it, mate.”

Oh, he’s Irish or something, the accent is thick as all hell. It sparks your interest, a definite standout from the midwestern folks living here, and you don’t rush away to continue your browsing. You don’t walk away, like you should’ve, you don’t realize that in two years this will have become your biggest, most shameful regret.

He peers down at you, light eyes, ivory maybe? He’s got a weird haircut, some kind of half committed Mohawk thing. It’s an awful haircut, really shitty, so you politely avert your eyes from the active train wreck and send a prayer for any casualties, and realize you’ve dropped your phone on the ground.

“Ye dropped—“

“Ah, let me—“

You both reach for it at the same time, and your fingers brush, and the world changes, and you have all of a half a second to freeze in shock and confusion before you accidentally headbutt him and fall over.

Maybe he had a thick enough skull to really hurt you. You would know.

[zarasu]

Bingyuan, Sy transmigrated into a wife, post "Bingge vs Bingmei extra" Bingge

Prompt: arranged marriage

---

Shen Yuan was admittedly a little nervous.

It was one thing to transmigrate into a woman. It was another thing to transmigrate into a woman who was being married off to Luo Binghe for political advantage.

His "father" was the leader of the last rebel group of cultivators fighting against Luo Binghe's regime. But even they had to eventually admit defeat and the rebel leader used his only daughter to declare their alliance.

It was typical that Shen Yuan would manage to transmigrate into a cultivator, but never get to really use his new powers before becoming a wife. At least he would meet his favourite character (of this novel!)

Still, as they entered the throne room, Shen Yuan's hands shook a little with nerves. Because, at the other end of the hall, Luo Binghe sat on his throne, surrounded by wives and advisors.

Really, he was more handsome than the novel had managed to convey! Regal too, with his robes and wild hair! Nonetheless, Shen Yuan couldn't help but think that he looked a little... cold.

He wasn't even looking at the delegation entering the hall. Instead, his eyes were turned towards the distance, no expression on his face.

As they came closer, Shen Yuan noticed an odd detail: on the side of his head was a little braid in his hair. It looked like it should have been long brushed out, tangled and falling apart.

The next moment, he was distracted by the delegation coming to a halt in front of the throne. They all bowed and the rebel leader started to declare their alliance.

Shen Yuan was barely listening, but even he got the gist of it and let out a relieved breath when it was done.

Of course, then, the rebel leader gestured him forward and started the whole spiel about offering him up as a bride, to become part of the harem.

Truthfully, Shen Yuan wasn't overly worried about that part. In the story, his character had played an extremely minor role at best. She had appeared, Luo Binghe had married her, and she never showed up again after. Even the wedding night had been cursory and lacklustre at best.

Honestly, Shen Yuan hoped to just vanish into the masses of the harem to be forgotten and do his own thing for the rest of his life.

As expected, Luo Binghe accepted him as his bride, barely even looking at Shen Yuan. After that, he was allowed to step back again.

As the rebel leader and Luo Binghe talked more negotiations, Shen Yuan was pulled aside by his own maid. The adorable thing had accompanied him all the way and was determined to stay with him, even though she'd been shaking like a leaf when they entered the palace.

"Outrageous," she now whispered heatedly into Shen Yuan's ear. "He didn't even look at you, Miss! The disrespect-"

Over the course of the trip to the palace, Shen Yuan had grown rather fond of the girl. Still, he couldn't leave a statement like that unaddressed.

With a now practiced movement, he pulled his fan out of his sleeve and gently bonked her head with it. "Silly girl," he scolded her. "Aren't you too old to talk nonsense like that? Think! To have the attention of a powerful man like that brings nothing but trouble. No, I'd much rather he not pay any attention to me at all. In any case, it's not your place to question the Emperor."

She rubbed her head and pouted at him, and Shen Yuan couldn't help but sigh and pat her head gently. "It's alright now, don't cry, ah!"

It was only then that he suddenly noticed the dead silence around them.

He looked around and saw that everyone was looking at them with different degrees of confusion. Shen Yuan wasn't sure why at first, until he caught sight of Luo Binghe.

There was nothing left of his earlier icy expression. Now, he was staring at Shen Yuan with wide, surprised eyes.

Uncertain what had inspired this change, he quickly looked away and slid his fan back into his sleeve.

Before he could say something sufficiently polite and distracting, though, Luo Binghe actually stood up from his throne, to the hushed whispers of his wives and advisors.

He walked down the steps of the dias and stopped right before Shen Yuan.

"I must apologise," Luo Binghe said, and Shen Yuan jolted in surprise. "I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced. I'm sure you already know, but my name is Luo Binghe."

Before Shen Yuan could stop him, he dipped into a gallant bow.

Hastily, he mirrored him. "Shen- that is, my name is Zuo Anwen."

Luo Binghe's eyes flashed dangerously, just for a second, before he smiled amicably and reached out to take Shen Yuan's hands into his own.

"I know you must be overwhelmed. But would you do me a favour?"

Shen Yuan was aware he couldn't say anything but yes. So, he nodded.

"I want you to answer me a question," Luo Binghe continued, the smile on his face turning stranger with every second. "Please, answer honestly, tell me whatever you truly think. I promise there won't be any consequences. Your answer won't affect the marriage, you have my word."

Shen Yuan thought this sounded like a trap. Nevertheless, he took a deep breath and nodded.

Luo Binghe's eyes gained an even sharper edge and he asked: "You must have fought against many demons in your life. Do you think... are they all unforgivably evil and should be killed without prejudice?"

What kind of question was this??

Helplessly, Shen Yuan looked past Luo Binghe at his "father", who was frantically shaking his head at him.

The next second, Luo Binghe stepped to the side and obstructed his view with his body. He squeezed Shen Yuan's hand and reminded him: "Your true opinion."

Shen Yuan sighed wearily and decided that, since he didn't know what exactly Luo Binghe wanted to hear, he might as well say his honest opinion.

"Not necessarily," he started slowly. "There are good and bad humans. It stands to reason that it'd be the same for demons. Humans only ever see the hurts that demons inflict on other humans. But there might be instances where demons are just as badly hurt by humans. People are influenced by their prejudices like that, and the divide between demons and humans only gets deeper."

It was like the sun broke out on Luo Binghe's face. From one second to another, his smile turned into a wild grin, startling in its intensity, and his eyes got so wide and dark that he started to look a little bit insane.

Spooked, Shen Yuan tried to take a step back but was stopped by the tight grip Luo Binghe kept on his hand.

He pulled Shen Yuan in closer, fangs flashing as he leaned down to whisper into his ear: "Hello there. I have been looking for you."

After a long moment of silence, he slowly drew back again, although he still didn't release Shen Yuan's hand.

"Yes," Luo Binghe finally said, for everyone to hear, "I think this marriage will be very fruitful for both of us."

The end~

(Btw, you might be wondering: how is this Bingwife? Well, it's not shown but it is heavily implied that Shen Yuan is gonna turn Bingge into his loved and pampered wife through the power of kissies and headpats. There you go😌)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

iirc I think you said you don’t like Trey and Malleus’s hair but somehow excuse Rollo’s hair 😨 so where does everyone else stand if you were judging them based only on physical appearance?

Disclaimers: I'm not including any Yuus (like, from the manga), mob students, reused assets (ie ghosts and pixies), or characters that we've only gotten the silhouettes for (that means no Mrs. Rosehearts, no Farena/Falena, no Zigvolt parents, etc.). I am only giving my thoughts on the looks of named characters with fully realized designs. If there is a significant variation of their hairstyle I like, I'll make note of it. Additionally, I will be commenting on general style rather than on individual outfits.

These are my opinions, please don't take them too seriously. I think all the designs work as is to convey the background and personality of each character, but everyone will have different tastes and preferences in terms of visual design; these are just mine! (And remember, just because I may like how a character looks doesn’t mean I like the character overall!!)

***PLEASE NOTE: This post contains spoilers for the main story and events that have yet to be released in EN!!***

Pretty

Jade - I'll admit that it took me a while to get used to his haircut (I typically don't go for the super short bangs), but it grew on me! I really like his face in particular; it can be very calm and pleasant but also mischievous and sinister. When he's angry or upset, it's much more subtle and hard to read in his face. That's something I can really appreciate. It all works very well with his neat, tidy, and unassuming appearance.

Jamil, Najma - THE VIPER FAMILY HAS SUCH GOOD GENES, just look at their luscious hair and mysterious, dark eyes... They dress so well too, I love all the hair accessories and flowy fabrics the Viper siblings have.

Meleanor - Malleus's mom has got it goin' on 🙃 She really kills the warrior princess look! Very imposing, yet elegant. I can totally understand why Lilia used to crush on her.

Fellow - Not usually a fan of gingers (and nor do I simp for fox man), but there's just something so charming about Fellow's face. I think it's the eyes and his self-assured, fun-loving smile. His outfit's snazzy and he makes it work so well! I especially like the cravat, spats, and the cape hanging off one shoulder.

Cool

Leona - OKAY FINE I'LL ADMIT HE'S HANDSOME, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW????? 😭 As much as I want to wrestle Leona, I have to admit that he has a very striking face (especially when he smirks) and powerful presence. He knows how to command a room (and he’s just about the threshold of muscle I’m willing to accept). I'm not really into hair past shoulder length or how he usually dresses, but what I think is the coolest about him are his eyes. It feels like they'll follow you everywhere. Ponytail Leona is the best Leona, in my opinion.

Ortho - I was debating between putting Ortho in "Cool" or "Cute", but ultimately went with "Cool" because he by far has the most unique look of the entire cast. I love learning about his different Gears and their functions, each one different than the last. I don't find the pale skin and blue hair as off-putting on Ortho as I do on Idia, and I think that's because Ortho's more child-like.

Crowley - His aesthetic is nice! I find the bird mask really goofy and his hair a literal rat's nest (DON'T @ ME, IT LOOKS LIKE LIMP SEAWEED), but his suit and cape are so dapper! All the keys and mirrors would look gaudy on any other character, but they fit so well for Crowley. The extra shiny details give him an air of mystery, like threads of light peeking through the dark.

Trein- Trein's robes and cravat make him look so classy and regal! The colors also remind me of Edgeworth from Ace Attorney-- He looks very stern at first glance, but when he gives his little smiles you can tell how much he really cares.

Sam - He's way overdressed for running an on-campus school general store but hey, it works for him. There's lots of little details I enjoy in his design, from the stitching on his top hat to the locs he sports.

Cute

Lucius, Grim - LIL' KITTY CATS 🥺 I especially think Grim is adorable whenever he gets a new themed bow or a whole ass outfit like in the Halloween events!

Chenya - His haircut is so uneven but I commend his style. Chenya's look isn't too busy; his jewelry and decorative patches are spread out so they don't crowd for your attention. Gotta love those callbacks to Alice in Wonderland! This might sound weird, but there's power in his plain white shirt half-buttoned and loosely tucked into his pants; it gives the right amount of casualness to feel "accidentally stylish". There's also just something really whimsical about how cat-like his facial expressions and gestures are. It's quite endearing!

Ruggie - His hair looks perfect for ruffling! The fact that he often dresses in hand-me-downs and Leona's oversized clothing makes him appear "small" and even cuter. Pair that with Ruggie's crooked little smile, and it's perfect. I like that his build is lankier than those of the other Savanaclaw students; it makes him appear less intimidating on an initial evaluation.

Cheka - Have you SEEN Cheka?????? How does your heart not melt at the sight of him 😭 I adore his little :3 face and how he shines when he's innocently asking Ojitan to hang out with him...

Floyd - I feel like I kind of have to put Floyd in "Cute" since he's Jade's twin. Floyd just places lower because I find his eye shape less cute and his personal style doesn't really align with my tastes.

Kalim - This type of hair isn't usually my jam, but Kalim dresses it up well with a headband/scarf (?) and jewerly. When he moves, I imagine that the jewelry is jingling its own song. Kalim always seems to be smiling, so just looking at him puts me in a good mood too. His fashion choices tend to be extravagant and not very viable for everyday wear, but it's fine as long as Jamil stops him from making impulsive decisions.

Rook - I actually don't like his bob (I prefer it in an awkward little ponytail), but his face--especially the mouth--is beautiful. I BEG OF YOU, LOOK AT HIS CEREMONIAL ROBES GROOVY. Rook can be so expressive, it's like he's a one-man play. Alas... He looks naked without a hat :(( but I appreciate the mystery of covering up his limbs for the most part so we can’t see how truly muscular he is.

Lilia - Peepaw really stands out from the rest of Diasomnia; he doesn't come off as scary right away, he just relished in how adorable he is and is confident in that. Lilia's shorter stature and more experimental style certainly plays into that uniqueness too. It's fun to see what he comes up with! I especially love that he wears more traditionally feminine things like tulle skirts and gathered fabrics, and even dyes his hair and paints his nails in various colors. The cut itself is a bit of a clusterfuck when I first saw it, but I've really grown fond of it over time. It's such a bright expression of who Lilia is. I can't say if I prefer his long ponytail or the shorter trim; both are good!

Sebek - Like Jade, Sebek is also very well-put together. I like him with both his hair up and down; each has its unique appeal! With his hair up, Sebek appears much fiercer. With his hair down, he reminds me more of a puppy drenched from the rain. I feel like even though his face can be menacing, his smile overpowers how scary he can be. It feels so pure, clashing with his usual attitude... (His pathetic/sad expressions are also cute, but don't let him know I said that.)

Marja - Sweet granny... She looks so kind and cozy, I just wanna give her a hug.

Rollo - I’m a bowl cut apologist, what of it 😭 I like how he's so straight-laced and proper in his dress. It goes together with his face very well. Moreover, the dark eye bags and pinched, stern mouth only add to his charm. Rollo can go from neutral to devious smirk to a flash of anger--it's so interesting to observe how his face contorts.

Gidel - He looks like a mix of Ruggie and Cheka, so by default Gidel goes in "Cute". His oversized sleeves, patchwork pants, and mismatched socks give him such character!

Dylla - ANOTHER ATTRACTIVE MOM!!! Her clothing is more on the tomboyish side, but she still wears them well. Dylla's face in particular is really stunning; I get a mature big sis vibe from her.

Mid

Ace, Deuce- The most generic hair styles of the entire cast. I don’t have much else to remark on.

Azul - I don't know how else to say this, but I think Azul is handsome but in heavily regulated manner... to the point where it doesn't feel natural?? Like yes, he obviously cares about his appearance, it just feels "too" controlled of a narrative to me. The same goes for his smiles. Like Eliza says, he does it too much, so it feels fake.

Neige - He's wearing such an ugly sweater, but the innocence of his face evens things out. I find Neige cute in that generically sweet way, and for that I cannot place him higher than "Mid".

Epel- Same "generically sweet" cuteness as Neige. I do like his colors though.

Silver - Also has very generic hair. I disagree with the notion that he's handsome or has a noble constitution (even if the game itself says otherwise). Silver just looks like Some Guy to me. I’m slightly put off by the super muscular arms in his PE uniform too.

Eliza - I think Eliza could be a lot more appealing if they hadn't presented her to us in such a different style. Like the generic ghost NPCs, she's drawn more like a western cartoon rather than like an anime so she feels "off" from the rest of the named cast. Because there isn't unity between her and the characters she is shown with, Eliza sticks out like a sore thumb. I gotta hand it to her though, she still slays in that tattered wedding dress.

Fairy Queen - Love how the buns in her hair resemble roses, and how her entire body looks like it's golden and glowing from within. I wish her dress was more detailed though, more fitting for a queen.

Don't Like, but Could be Worse

Riddle - ROACH ANTENNAE........ . .. ... . . .... . ...... . .. . . . .. .... . .. Oh, and he looks so funky when he gets all red in the face.

Vil - For as much as we're told he's beautiful, I don't find Vil's brand of beauty to be digestible. He comes off too strongly, if that makes sense??? 20 cm heels, face beat to the gods with makeup, carrying himself at all times like there's a camera pointed at him and he has to pose 24/7 (look at most of his groovies)... It's hard for me to get behind that, it feels too overwhelming.

Seven Dwarves - I find most of the dwarves way too cartoonish, and not in a cute way. I think the only design I genuinely find okayish is Timmy (the timid dwarf).

Ambrose - He's an older gentleman in his wizard Halloween costume. I find his design sort of... generic??? But I'm knocking him down a little because I also find his overall appearance to be goofy and unflattering.

Idia - I DON'T CARE WHAT THE MAGICAL ARCHIVES OR ELIZA SAY, MAN LOOKS LIKE A WALKING CORPSE AND THAT AIN'T CUTE 😭

Shroud parents - Cool helmets, but I wish we actually got to see their faces.

Baul - I find Sebek's hair color more pleasing to the eye. Baul has a lot of other elements that Sebek doesn't (due to Baul being full fae and Sebek being half), and I find that they overcomplicate his design. It's hard for me to focus on his face because there's just so much to take in, from the scaley beard and more voluminous hair to the fangs and pointed ears.

Dawn Knight - This is the "bro, can I copy your homework" / "sure, but be sure to change it a little so the teacher doesn't notice" meme. I wish the Dawn Knight wasn't just long-haired, recolored Silver (with the exact same voice actor too). I would place the Dawn Knight in "Mid", but that armor is not doing him any favors. It's way too excessive with all the wings.

Crewel - His mostly monochromatic color scheme with splashes of crimson is cool, but I'm not into his clothing or even his hair. It's very jarring to see his hair and vest color blocked, and I don't find his big flashy fur coat appealing.

Kifaji - The big brows and the really long goatee make me go "???"

Actively Dislike

Trey - His hair reminds me of a freshly mowed lawn. Trey's design is otherwise inoffensive to me, but that hair color and cut are bringing him down so much. The only memorable thing about how he presents are those rare moments when he whips out his one brow raised smirks, and even then I think he looks slightly silly and it's hard to take him seriously.

Cater - Again, it's the hair for me. I like it better when it's all down (like in his Club Wear card). In his usual hairdo, there's a middle segment that's weirdly pulled back from the rest of his face in a... scruffy ponytail??? That really bothers me. I don't vibe with his usual style of dress or how he presents himself either, it's a bit too... lax?? (I know I said the same thing about Floyd, but he looks similar to Jade and therefore gets a pass).

BURN WITH FIRE

Jack - He commits the sin of having a confusingly styled mullet and has a muscular physique which don't bode well for my tastes. I guess he does have those "looks intimidating, but is actually a softie at heart" vibes going for him, but I just cannot look past the haircut I'M SORRY.

Malleus - I'm not into super pale emo/goth guys, and Malleus somehow presents as even more of that than Idia. He dresses in mostly black (and while there is a lore reason for this, that doesn't make me like the color any more or less), has a sort of mopey face (I guess it's supposed to be elegant, but I don't perceive it as that), and dear god that haircut and the ashy grey lips… It doesn’t help that the expressions he makes (particularly on his birthday cards) give really strong “are u lost bby ghorl” energy and that weirds me out 💀 So many things about him just don't work for me.

Vargas - Too muscular. Also not a fan of facial hair or athletic wear. Vargas doesn't seem to have a very keen fashion sense either, judging by the outfits he put together for his camp events.

Heinrich - His face is very grotesque and twists into making some of the most comedically evil and smug expressions I've ever witnessed in all of TWST.

[angellayercake]

Cardinal Terzo Interlude

Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW

I'm very sorry writing has been a bit of a struggle recently I hope to have some more cream pie diaries and more banchetto out soon. But for now all I have is this that I wrote for @ghostchems as an extra treat for her diary entry and because she is one of my favourite people! Hope you enjoy 💜

You feel boneless as he carries you into his room. This whole evening had been so unexpectedly special, and you were so grateful for your relationship with this ridiculous man. He was looking at you with that infuriating satisfied smirk that you loved so much, the evidence of your pleasure still visible in his smudged lipstick but messy as it was, it made him even more handsome. He places you on the bed gently, your loose limbs spreading comfortably in the soft sheets but he doesn’t join you straight away, just looks down at you as he reaches to smooth a lock of hair from your face and you take this moment of quiet to reminisce. 

When he had first taken up the position of Cardinal here you had not known what to make of him. He was good looking and charming, that was undeniable but he had also seemed lazy and frivolous. It wasn’t until you found him in the administration office late one night after everyone else had left, his frustration thick in the air as he struggled to get to grips with the paperwork he needed to complete that you saw another side to him. He had asked for your help and seeing the genuine desire to learn in his face you had agreed. Running a Satanic Abbey was a lot more involved then one might think, you knew this all too well and as Cardinal he was supposed to oversee all the day to day admin as well as lead the congregation in acts of sin in the name of Satan. Admittedly the admin was a lot less fun but that is how you found yourself spending a couple of nights a week alone with the new Cardinal. 

He picked it up quickly once you had shown him where to look and how to use the systems in place but still the two of you kept meeting. Instead of just teaching you ended up talking as you worked and you found him fascinating. He would regale you with stories from his travels across the world, of his childhood home in southern Italy, of his troublemaking in Rome as a young man and of the Ministry locations he had visited all over the world. You discovered your mutual love of film and often spent hours debating the nuances of your favourites. Over time he began to suggest you indulge yourselves in your now informal meetings, forgoing meetings at the office and instead meeting out in the gardens or the dining room and eventually in his personal quarters.     

You are brought straight back to the present as he starts to unbutton his shirt revealing his gorgeous hairy chest to you inch by perfect inch. Once he has pulled it loose he unrolls his sleeves one at a time so he can slide it off completely before his hands drop to his belt. You think he is trying to be subtle as he grazes a hand over the prominent bulge but the hitch in his breath would give him away even if his actions didn’t. He undoes his belt but doesn’t even bother pulling it loose just moves on to the fastening of his trousers and the fly. As is typical for him he had not bothered with underwear today so as he pulls his trousers off you get to enjoy the sight of his perfect cock and toned legs. He kneels at the end of the bed, crawling up towards you and settling between your legs. 

Sitting you up he pulls your dress up and over your head and helps you remove your bra quickly, your knickers had been lost long ago, you assume somewhere under the dining table earlier but any thoughts of the location of your pants are pushed from your mind as he eases you back against the pillows and starts to kiss his way down your body. You love it when he is like this, so thorough with his attentions, lavishing every part of you with kisses, licks and the occasional nip of his teeth. You feel the trail of his worship down your neck across your shoulder and down your arm, pressing his lips to all the places you are most sensitive and even finding others you never knew about. He takes your hand in his and even here, where he is already naked between your legs, when he presses a kiss to the back of your hand holding you in his intense gaze you feel your heart flutter and your cheeks flush. For a moment you are just suspended in your affection for each other but it breaks as quickly as it started and he is kissing back up your arm and turning his attention to your breasts. He trails his tongue along the underside first mapping out the curve before kissing his way to your nipple. His touches are barely there, gentle flicks of his tongue and the ghost of his lips as he teases it to hardness, even as you arch up into the feeling he keeps his distance only giving you just enough to drive you crazy wanting more before moving on to the other.   

He has already made you orgasm once this evening but all the tension is creeping back into your body as he continues his teasing. You weave your fingers through his already mussed hair, knowing deep down that if he is insistent on continuing to tease no amount of guidance from you will change that but appreciating the anchor it provides all the same. He has sunk further now kissing and nuzzling at your soft stomach as his hands trail the curve of your waist and hips. You are a confident woman but you never feel as attractive as when he worships you like this, when he moans into your skin just from the feel of you. His hands settle on your hips as his hot mouth continues its journey, raking his teeth over your hip bone. You suck in a gasp as his path takes him across your mound torn between wanting to feel the bliss of his mouth again this evening or if you are ready for more. 

He eases your legs open and you think he has made the decision for you but he ignores your pussy completely sliding his lips straight to your sensitive inner thighs before continuing. By the time he reaches your ankles he is sitting up between your legs which are now resting against his torso. You can feel the tip of his cock straining against the back of your thighs and you have never wanted him more than you do right now. He leans towards you encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he kisses you, swallowing your gasp as he finally sinks into you. You're so wet for him there is almost no resistance but as he pushes in to the hilt with such little warning you feel every single inch. 

You never tire of how he fucks you, the roll if his hips so smooth and seamless there isn’t a moment where a part of you isn’t stimulated. The circular thrusts have him grinding against your clit every time he bottoms out inside you and your skin tingles everywhere else you are pressed together. His strong arms wrapped around you and his hairy chest pressed against your sensitive breasts. Your nails dig into his shoulders pulling him impossibly closer as he gradually increases the tempo and you can feel your orgasm building. On a particularly deep thrust you clench around him hard as the head of his cock directly fucks into your sweet spot and his rhythm falters for the first time as he buries his face into your shoulder to smoother his moans. 

And that is the start of your undoing as you see him as affected by your body as you are by his. You both find your rhythm again as you give and take of each other. Tingles are spreading through your whole body, you can feel every thrust through your nervous system, sensitive all the way to the palms of your hands and the soles of your feet. You cling to him as you rock together pushing each other closer and closer to the precipice. The sounds coming from the two of you change, from moans and whimpers to choked off sobs and grunts as your pleasure gets more intense. The end is coming ever closer but part of you wants to pause time so you can feel this all consuming closeness forever but all good things must come to an end, it is inescapable. 

He shifts, pressing your shoulders into the mattress as he pistons his hips into you, immobilising you and bringing you both to the point of no return. The angle is perfect and you can feel a silent scream building in your chest as your pleasure is pulled taught. He is fighting to keep his thrusts even as he picks up the pace, the muscles of his torso tense and twitch and you love seeing him like this. You have enough control left to scratch your fingers down his back as he is overcome by a full body shudder so you can squeeze his toned ass as he continues to fuck into you. You both curse every time he bottoms out inside you and the force almost pushing you up the bed if not for his firm grip on your shoulders and you are finally ready to reach your peak. The rolling waves of pleasure radiate out from your core as you clench around him, pulling his orgasm from him with a loud moan his hips stutter before he pushes as deep into you as he can as you both ride it out. 

Only when he has filled you completely and your aftershocks have subsided does he pull out of you. He doesn’t go far though, pulling you to rest on his warm chest, his racing heart beginning to slow as he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers. Your whole body still feels numb and you hate the thought of moving again but when he tips your face up towards his you make the effort and it is worth it to look into his soft eyes and receive his soft kisses. 

‘Still the best birthday?’ He asks, as if he doesn’t know. 

‘The very best,’ you whisper against his lips, conserving your energy so you can show him with kisses just how happy you are. 

[bisexual-horror-fan]

It happened. Let's talk about it under the fucking cut.

Hello! I am here to regale you with the tale of how my Saturday at Fan Expo went! So it started with how I could not fucking sleep the night before. Fitful, I kept waking up over and over and finally got out of bed before nine. I hung around for a while, did a face mask, painted my nails, showered, got ready and into my fit for the day. We departed slightly after noon and grabbed some food and made our way to Toronto. We get there and park in the usual place and make the couple block hike to the convention centre, the check in process went smoothly and then, it was time to shop around. 

We went from the North building to the South building, much more interested in checking out niche’ vendors and artists’ alley, I was in there for less than an hour before I had to break away to run to the photo op. Mr.Bex gives me a kiss on the cheek and told me, “Try not to cum in front of them.”

“Easier said than done!” I called as I run off. Now, last year it took me forever to get back to the North building, so I left with an hour before my time I had to be there. On the way, I see a Ghostface in a very cute almost magical girl outfit, short flouncy skirt and a bedazzled pink mask. I am looking at them, they see me looking, and they give me a pose and a peace sign, I grin and give one back, a super fun moment. I get to the North building and the photo op space in less than twenty minutes. So that means I get to toddle around the dealers floor. I do so, take in some cosplays, contemplate some purchases, they had an old full sized classic Scream one poster for twenty bucks, but I passed on it. 

Finally, it’s time to go get into the actual line. I’m in line 13, in the first group for the Matt and Skeet time slot, and I made like six friends while in line. Everyone was very into my outfit, one girl had a tattoo on her arm that said, “My mom and dad are gonna be so mad at me.” We were all losing it. Another girl was there with her partner and she was in a 600 dollar custom fitted movie accurate Ghostface costume, with the glitter fabric and all, it was shockingly impressive. She especially liked my shirt and was impressed by the fact I made it, and asked aloud, “Why don’t they make shirts like those and sell them?” I laughed and told her, “Well, I’ve considered it, I won’t lie.” 

It is a surreal experience listening to this assortment of hot gothy early twenty-something scream fans, many who came from whole provinces away just for this, just to be here for them, talking about how hot they are and how down bad they are while I stand next to them, having written a couple of hundred thousand words about the characters they love in question. I almost told em I wrote fic, almost. 

While waiting around, Matt ended up coming out into the line-up space?! There was a fan in a wheelchair, and he wheeled em back personally while chatting them up and giving high-fives, he was five feet from me. The photo op starts late, I don’t care, it’s fine. We scan tickets, drop bags and then are in the same curtained off space as them, they let in small groups at a time to keep it moving smoothly. My heart is fucking pounding. We make it back, there was a family in front of me, their middle kid was dressed as Ghostface and their baby was in a scooby doo onesie and Matt held him for the picture, so cute. 

Our especially extra Ghostface friend from the line was right in front of me, and then it’s my turn. I make sure my extra shirt is pulled to the side, Two Boys Are Better Than One proudly displayed, and I move. I greet them with a “Hi!” 

Skeet gave me a very cool sounding “Hey” and Matthew made eye contact with me and gave me a polite nod with a, “Hello.” That I can only say was said in a very him way. 

I asked, as I was moving in, “Can I be in the middle?”

And Matt had this expression with that sort of half smile he does, brows pinched together as he nods, telling me like it should be obvious, “Oh of course.” 

I get in between them, and Matt’s hand is on my shoulder, Skeet’s hand is on my lower back and my hand is on Matt’s lower back and my other hand holding onto Skeet’s side (and fucks sake he is firm.)

I got an extra second because the photographer directed me to lower my head, so I wouldn’t get glasses glare, I assume. I revel in the extra seconds and contact, the picture is snapped, and I break away, without thinking I sort of pat Skeet’s side, and he returns the gesture and tells me, “Good job.” 

Skeet fucking Ulrich told me good job. 

Bury me now. I am done for.

I get my bag, I get my picture, I get it framed, and I go find Mr.Bex. He and I leave the con, we get back to our car, and then go to a tattoo shop where my friend Mel gave me my You Might Be The Killer tattoo. We drove home, I slammed several slices of pizza, and now I am writing this for you! 

It was. Fucking amazing, I loved it so much, it was more than worth every penny. Now I can officially say, I am That Cunt that wore a shirt baring my super pornographic smut fic’s title on my tits while getting a picture with the two guys who inspired it all.

And speaking of inspiration, just you wait to see the fic I am going to write after this. 

[mooshie-blue]

Re-redesigned the princesses!!

Staring off with Princess Peach! Since she’s the first princess introduced I decided to give her a more regal look, her dress is kind of inspired by Padparadcha from Steven universe, (funnily enough Paddy’s design is inspired by Peach herself lol)Also since she’s the princess of the MUSHROOM kingdom I gave her more mushroom inspired looks, from her crown to her polka-dotted dress. I also gave her more gentle shades of pink, and gave her braids

Next is Princess Daisy! since she’s more hyperactive and Tomboyish, I tied up her hair in a ponytail, and I put her in a more prince like outfit while keeping the Princess element with the puffy sleeves, and gave her a cape I also added more green into her design to complement the orange! I also gave her a prince crown, and I added a daisy on her belt shoes, and earrings. Also since her skin used to be dark, I gave her back her color.

Finally we get to Princess Rosalina, I know the chances of her being an alien are slim but she’s been in space her whole life, and your telling me she looks almost exactly like Daisy and Peach? Not on my watch, Plus someone else redesigned her as an alien and I wanted to do the same. I gave her light minty colored skin, pale blue hair and pure green eyes, I also gave her extra arms and three fingers per hand, she is a being made of pure stardust. I like to think eating starbits affected her body and made her some sort of alien (maybe she was once human but only she and the luma’s know. I also fixed her wand!

BONUS: Peachette & Pauline redesign

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

My thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie

I don’t know if I liked it as much as the original films (maybe Mockingjay 1 & 2 as they are pretty emotionally draining), but I still enjoyed it.

I think where it fell a little flat for me is 1. The beginning was a bit slow (tbh I only really started getting interested when Lucy Gray stuck that snake down that girl’s dress & even then I enjoyed the story more when the setting changed from the Capitol to the district) 2. I knew Snow would survive 3. I’d already been spoiled online for a lot of stuff that happens & 4. while I know the director did his best to make Snow as “likeable” as he could for as long as possible, even before he started getting “a little too comfortable” with killing & snitching I didn’t find him as sympathetic as Katniss or Peeta (but that is probably again down to the fact that I know what he goes onto do & there’s no real way around that), this made engaging with him difficult for me.

The world is fascinating. Getting to see all the new locations we never had access to before as well as old locations now in a totally different light (for example district 12 which, while still clearly suffering, seemed like such a bustling industrial town compared to how it is in Katniss’s time). It might have a much more retro aesthetic but there's also just a more vibrant, natural, wild & lawless atmosphere to this movie compared to the others in the franchise. The whole scope of the film just felt more cinematic then I remember the others being yet also weirdly intimate. Maybe because it was one contained story & we knew the main character’s fate from the start. I also loved the title cards signifying the start of each section of the story like from the books & wished they'd done something similar for the other films. It just added a certain flair to the whole thing. Almost gave it the vibe of a tragic play.

The costuming was great. The bright red of the academy uniforms.  Flickerman’s snazzy suits. Snow’s dapper black & white outfit. Both peace keeper uniforms (despite one of them giving very ‘1930’s Germany’ vibes) looked great. Grandma might have been a bigot, but at least she was well dressed. Everything Dr Gaul wore (except the top that looked like a used tampon, lol) was exquisite. The main ladies of fashion, Tigris & Lucy Gray slayed. Our Future Capitol stylist looked like some regal yet exotic bird & Miss Survivor was giving Bohemian, country girl realness the entire time she was on screen. Even the extras were serving (like that random couple Snow walked past on his way to the reaping ceremony).

The music was amazing. Every song that played was fantastic (shout out to Olivia for her end credit contribution). The lyrics & instrumentation were beautiful & my god does Rachel Zegler have pipes! Anyone who says the singing scenes are cringy is just stupid like I’m sorry you can’t appreciate art. Also, the words ‘ballad’ & ‘songbirds’ are literally in the title. Plus, Lucy Gray is from the poorest district, so what exactly do those people want her to do in her free time? She can’t exactly hop on an X-box for a few hours. Not too mention that (as the offspring of someone who’s musically inclined) I can tell you, it’s completely realistic for a musician to use their craft to help them deal with trauma & Lucy Gray clearly had more than her fair share of that.

The Grandma'am helped to paint a sadly very realistic background for Snow. As who among us hasn’t met at least one delusional old person who thinks that their/their group’s suffering (regardless of the severity of it or the reason behind their former/newer status in society) means that no one else are deserving of even the tiniest shred of humanity & there are some people who are unlucky enough to not only be related to these people but be raised by them.

Hunter schafer as Tigris is clearly the superior Snow when it comes to things like empathy & overall mental stability but I do kind of wish they’d been more for her to do. Credit where credit is due though her & Tom did actually look like they could be related & I did buy their familial bond (which makes her appearance in Mockingjay so much sadder in hindsight).

Peter Dinklage as Casca Highbottom was a bit of a mix for me just due to his purpose as a character & the limit of film as a form of media. Like sure the audience know that Snow’s going to become an irredeemable monster in the end but without a window into his mind it really does just seem like the Dean is just out to get him & even when we find out why it seems kind of unfair. Like sure his dad sucked but haven’t the Games shown that blaming children for violence caused by others is unjust (& like ok he hates Coriolanus & probably the grandma but Tigris hadn’t done anything to deserve living in poverty, as she can’t control who she’s related to)? Plus, it felt like he could have at least tried taking Snow under his wing at some point to try to hinder Dr Gual’s influence. Saying all of that, though, Peter Dinklage is great at playing an addict with depression & the idea that some drunken rambling could lead to such long-lasting suffering is terrifying. Also its pretty realistic that living with that kind of guilt & in such a cruel environment for that long would make most people jaded & bitter, even if they did have good intentions.

Omg we finally get a Mayor family on screen & they’re assholes! Madge would be so disappointed 😭. It was interesting to see how harsh & overall “boot licky” the mayor & his family seemed compared to decades later, which makes sense as the war wasn’t that long ago for them so the dad probably felt more incentive to align himself with the Capitol as well as not feeling very connected to the district people as 12’s decline probably didn’t fully set in until they really started running low on coal & Snow became president (oh I just know he wanted to blow that district off the map 😆). I also wouldn’t put it past Billy to come up with some sob story of how he really does love Mayfair but wicked Lucy Gray is somehow preventing them from being together. Still no excuse to try to send her to her death twice in one week, though. Definitely not a girl’s girl.

Ok, so a liar. Cheat. Drunk & someone who hits women. Is there anything good about Billy Taupe? Also, trying to get your ex back, while your current girlfriend is literally standing right next to you? Dude, have some god damn back bone! You made a choice, now stick to it. Also, fumbling Lucy Gray, for a girl like that? What’s it like having no brains or taste? Well, too bad, coz you’re stuck with her forever now, lol.

Viola Davies, the actress that you are. What else is there to say? Dr Gaul is almost comic book levels of insane. Like she is how the Right see women in STEM, on crack! I don’t know what she did to get into character, but whatever it was, it worked.

Jason Schwartzman as Lucretius Flickerman is a very interesting addition to the story despite playing such a small & seemingly insignificant role. He is strange in how unthreatening he is while also extremely blasé about the abhorrent violence he witnesses that it’s as funny as it is disturbing. Making him come across as  more human yet harsher than his son, who at least pretends to care about the tributes (in a very Capitol way, obviously but still). There’s also a polish & confidence to Tucci’s performance that I think Schwartzman did a great job of avoiding copying (despite knowing what audiences were probably expecting) because not only are their characters in entirely different stages of their careers but the whole ethos of the Hunger Games is different in Snow’s youth than it is in Katniss’s. Caesar is a well established presenter & during his time, the games have always been a success (minus the year with the tundra) that the entire Capitol is invested in & seemingly in support of. On the other hand Lucretius had the unique task of not only coming into a job like this with zero experience (I mean imagine going from announcing the weather to presenting the fucking hunger games) but also there were no vibes to try to emulate let alone guidelines to follow because he truly was the first person to do this. On top of that, the "event" his presenting has been panned for years as both boring & unethical. Schwartzman brought a slightly awkward, experimental, yet try hard vibe (like a comedian who's desperate to get a laugh) that I think worked wonderfully for the character.

Tom Blyth's performance was great & he was visually perfect for a young Snow (the power of a good wig! Who knew lol). Even having the cool, analytical stare of Donald Sutherland, down pat. While his appearance was very Eminem during his peacekeeping days, his realisation in the cabin and subsequent breakdown in the woods were crazy. There was so much tension between him & Rachel in that scene that for a second, it literally felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I could almost hear the record scratch for both of them, & all that building paranoia finally coming to a sudden crescendo in the way that it did? Pure cinema!

Josh Rivera, as Sejanus, was honestly a mix for me. Obviously, I agree with his morals, but his way of going about it did seem a little dumb. However I do think it’s pretty realistic that a teenager, especially a rich one, would be rather naive. Also I’ve heard that he’s smarter in the book & I think at times my frustration with him is more just down to the fact that I’m seeing him from Snow’s point of view. Meaning scenes that would be portrayed as noble in any other film instead come across as almost painfully inconvenient because the focus is always on how they affect Snow rather than the actual victims of the situation. Lastly, sorry, Snowjanus shippers, I just don’t see it (especially on Snow’s end), but whatever floats your boat.

Rachel Zegler played Lucy Gray with the perfect mix of natural charm & emotional vulnerability with clear pride in her culture & a refusal to let the world around her change who she is. Yet there was also an air of mystery & a subtle resilience to her that makes her potentially surviving out in the woods for years without being detected actually believable (though I don’t buy the theory that she went on to become president Coin). Definitely the highlight of the movie for me.

PS. I'd love to know what you think of my review in the comments/tags & am open to criticism (as long as it's respectful) just remember that I'm only talking about the movie so please don't reference anything spersific to the book.