#dont-blink--craft

[eddieandbird]

okay so a quickie with eddie before a hellfire meeting, can be fingered with a nipple play you know? reader maybe was just helping eddie organize the table for the rpg (I dont know anything about D&D) or something but she was just so needy for him and he just wants to make his girl feel good and get her all relaxed and soft

Also, I really wish if after everything you could make him clean her with that tissue he always has in his jeans pocket, because his girl made a mess (skirt up, panties to the side) so just him cleaning her and her her thighs, putting her panties in his pocket for later

also an observation for his rings, like the cold metals touching her (inside her??)

Take your time! Love u xo 😚

i love you! hope you enjoy this one babe -bird

Stay Here—

You’re distracting Eddie as he preps for a Hellfire Club meeting

tags/warnings: smut | 1.9k words | f!reader | fingering | praise/pet names | softdom!eddie?

———

Eddie sounded like a madman, muttering to the papers before him. He was knee-deep in planning Hellfire’s next campaign, hunched over on his throne. He looked like he was about to rip every hair out of his head over getting the details just right.

You, on the other hand, looked like the complete opposite. With a tiny elf figurine in one hand and a thin brush in the other, you sat on the club table facing Eddie without a care in the world. Your tongue peaked out of your plump lips as you concentrated on the craft.

You didn’t notice the way your legs kicking beside his arm, but Eddie certainly did. He was already struggling to get words from his brain to the paper and the light shaking of his workspace made it worse.

“Sweetheart,” Your attention was pulled by him as he gripped your thigh. “C’mon, I’m working,”

With your tools still in hand, you raised your arms defensively. “Sorry,”

“It’s alright baby,” He sighed and gave an affectionate smack to your leg.

It didn’t go unnoticed that Eddie kept his hand there. The skin beneath his fingers felt hot, especially around the cool metal of his rings. Your eyes began flicking back and forth from the elf to your lap. With pursed lips, you pressed your legs together and tried to shake off the more unsavory thoughts that were brewing in your mind.

He felt his fingers get pinched in your soft flesh and journeyed them upward. When you inspected the sudden movement, your heart skipped a beat. To your disappointment, Eddie appeared to be still in the throws of his writing.

“Everything alright, honey?”

“Yeah, just trying to get this next scene down,” Eddie’s monotone response confirmed your observations.

“Sounds good,”

You adjusted your posture then rolled your shoulders back. On one hand, you were thankful that he seemed oblivious to your thoughts, on the other, you couldn’t wait until he was finished so he could touch you properly. His touch was vexing you and little did you know, you were vexing him right back.

Eddie's attention kept getting stolen by the subtle ways you fidgeted beside him. He bit his pen, his focus slowly wavering from his papers. He couldn't help but notice how your eyes flicked back and forth, and how your chest heaved as you tried to regulate your breathing.

“You okay, baby?” Eddie's voice was low, a hint of a smirk in between his lips.

You stopped breathing for a moment as he asked that. “Yeah, I’m good,”

You wore a convincing smile as you leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead. When you dipped down, he received a glimpse of your chest beneath your loose-fitting blouse. He gulped and blinked rapidly, the tie holding him to his writing was being pulled thin.

He could see how the flesh of your chest was pushed by the cloth and how the material seemed so close to exposing you to him. His mouth went dry, his fingers gripping your thigh a bit harder. He was struggling to keep his composure. He wanted you to come closer, to sit on his lap, but he refused to let his work go unfinished.

You mustered the strength to discreetly scoot across the table a few inches, just enough to free yourself from his grip. You repeated in your mind that he was busy and he needed you to not meddle in his creative process. Despite your earnest effort to behave, the absence of your thigh in his hand seemed to bother him even more. He knew the feeling of your skin was tugging him further away from his goal and he still didn’t want you to move away from him.

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” Eddie cleared his throat. “Stay here, I need you,”

“Eddie, I-” You tried to protest, but really what were you going to say? You craved him and certainly didn’t want him to stop touching you.

Eddie knew you were a source of distraction, but his possessiveness demanded your presence.

“Did I say you could move?” Even if he was working, he knew he needed you by his side, to have you close to him. To feel your legs underneath his fingers and the warmth of your body beside his. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his lap and have you all to himself, but he wouldn't give in to his desires just yet.

“I’m not going anywhere, I just-” You paused as Eddie dug his rings into your flesh.

“Then stay here,” His demand interrupted you.

He pulled you by your thigh, forcing your clamped legs open. Wide eyes and slightly parted lips adorned your face as he positioned you how he wanted.

“Be a good girl and let me write this last part,” Once again, Eddie’s fingers scattered on the skin of your thigh. A soft gasp escaped you as you felt his middle fingers settle on the thin fabric of your panties. “No moving, no noises. If you can do that for me, I’ll be sure to take care of this,” his voice dropped an octave as he swiped over your aching center.

The subtle touches and the commanding tone of his voice made your cheeks burn, and the feeling of being pressed against him made you throb between your legs. You knew you couldn’t deny him anything, and you didn’t want to, even if he was contradicting himself. All you wanted was him and his touch, and he knew that he was making you wait for it.

“I’ll be a good girl, Eddie.” You said barely above a whisper

As promised, you stayed put as he continued writing with one hand, the other one toying with your eager body.

“I know you will, sweetheart,”

To Eddie’s surprise, teasing you with his free hand was what he needed to flesh out the final details of his campaign. The motivation of having your body as his prize after he finished his task and the repetitive movement on your skin was enough for him.

And there you were, crumbling underneath the physical attention. Short bursts of breath came through your nostrils as you choked back moans.

The simple feeling of his fingers tracing the material of your panties was making your body shiver. You wanted desperately to moan, to beg, to ask for more, but you couldn’t. It would only make Eddie do the opposite.

As if he read your mind, he looked at you and smirked devilishly. “You’re doing so good for me baby, I’m almost done. Just a bit more and I’ll give you what you want, okay?”

“Okay,” You answered holding your breath. A quiet “Hmph,” escaped you as he pressed firmly into you. He could feel through the cotton barrier your wetness growing, your heartbeat pulsating against his touch.

“What was that, princess?” He raised a brow.

Your breath hitched and you shook your head furiously in response, denying the sound you made.

“That’s what I thought,”

He traced the elastic of your panties, pulling at it quickly to make a satisfying snap.

Eddie found himself enamored with every one of your reactions. The way you shivered, how you held your breath, how your body jerked when he toyed with you. Your tiny gasps of air were music to his ears and the feeling of your thighs tense under him made his jeans feel tight.

With a sly smile, Eddie slid his hand down the front of your panties, running his index finger along your entrance. The slick wetness around your pussy was almost sinful. “Such a good girl, staying quiet for me…”

He wore a fond smile as he teased you, sliding his digits around your swollen clit. “Hey, princess?” He broke the tense quietness with lifted brows.

“Mhm?”

“I was done writing a few minutes ago,” He gave a low, evil chuckle. You were about to give a complaint, but before you could speak, he hooked a thumb into your panties and slid it away from your entrance. With no hesitation, he then sank his two middle fingers into you causing you to lurch forward.

Your eyes slammed shut as you let out a stifled whine. Eddie’s sudden movement took you by surprise but it was exactly what you were begging for. His fingers were already filling you up, rubbing against your walls with perfect rhythm.

“But- But you said you-” You couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You are too adorable when you’re all needy like this,” Eddie shot up from his throne and shortened the distance between you two. He had every intention to keep touching you, but he needed to remove them for a moment to roll your underwear off of your legs. You were too much in a daze to notice that he tucked it away in the pocket of his vest.

It happened in a blur and before you knew it, Eddie’s hands returned, gently parting your folds. It was his favorite thing, watching you hungrily as he explored your sex. You sat back, propped up by one arm, the other covering your mouth.

“Jesus Christ, baby, you are so damn wet for me,” He growled.

Every single touch of his made you twitch and shiver, your body aching for more of him. You felt so desperate and eager, so ready to surrender yourself to the whims of him. You opened your mouth to speak, but only a strangled gasp came out.

“I- Eddie, I-” You tried to form a sentence in your mind, but your thoughts were a blur. He was back to pumping his thick fingers into your greedy core, your juices seeping through the gaps around his rings.

Eddie’s devious laugh returned, showing the amusement he received from watching you. “You don’t have to say anything, sweetheart. Just relax and let me make you feel good,”

Your head tilted backward as he filled you. His expression showed pure ecstasy, his pupils dilated with the vision of you taking stroke after stroke of his hand. The way your center practically poured out love for him and covered his fingers only encouraged him to not stop until you reached your climax.

“Such a pretty little mess…” He muttered.

The way Eddie looked at you was almost hypnotizing. His eyes burned into yours with pure desire and hunger, his body drawn to your own. He could see your face contorting with pleasure, the moans that escaped through your covered mouth, and your chest rising and falling as you felt the pleasure building inside of you.

He leaned towards you, lips almost brushing against your ear. "That's it, just let go for me, baby. Let me watch you come undone."

You couldn’t reply. Your response was a string of high-pitched moans that were stifled into your hand as you bit down on your fingers. Eddie’s soft, dark eyes were filled with admiration as you had a shuddering orgasm by his doing. His wicked smile widened as he slowly pulled his hand out revealing a sticky trail leaking out of you. You were left flushed as he was glowing with pride. He whipped out his infamous handkerchief from his pocket and softly wiped up your essence that had been spread across your thighs.

You were still catching your breath as Eddie smirked at you. His hand was covered in the evidence of your climax while you tried to regain a sense of your surroundings. When you met his gaze, he beamed at you once more.

“Go ahead and get yourself cleaned up now, sweetheart. Hellfire starts in thirty,”

[norizz-nation]

Hiii

I want to say that you are a remarkable writer. Each of ur work is a delightful journey through your creativity, and your skill in crafting engaging stories is truly commendable.

And for the request

Can you feed me some Toto Wolff smut w a lot younger reader?

Sending ❤️

Oh my god, love thank you so much! Your compliment really made my day! Also i hope you like it 🥺❤️

Spit on it 🩶

Summary: toto got you a present that made your jaw drop

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, age gap (reader is 20), innocence kink, anal, daddy kink, butt plug

"Im so excited for today!" you said, smiling big at toto who was buttoning his shirt. "Really my little girl?" he asked, smirking at you. “Yeah! Absolutely, its the Austrian grand prix. Its your home race! Im so excited!” You said, giggling softly as you checked yourself again in the mirror.

You wore a baby pink skirt with a silk white top. Pink and white made you look so innocent and beautiful. Toto loves it when you dress like a good little girl. But he would love this situation more if he could just lift your skirt up and fuck you right there. Make you all messy for him. All for him.

“I’ve got a present for you angel” toto said as he rushed to his closet and grabbed a little black box. The matte finishing to it was really attractive. Your eyes widened. Excited to see whats inside. You tried to grab the box but toto pulled away. “Have a little bit patience angel” he said, smiling softly at you. He then slowly opened the box and you looked at it curiously, not even blinking.

Your jaw dropped when you saw a silver butt plug inside of the box. It had a baby pink stone on the front.

“W-what is it?” You asked, stuttering a little as you looked up at him. He raised his eyebrows after hearing your question. “I know youre an innocent little baby who is just 20 but you do know what this is right? Daddy tried this with you before, remember?” He asked, whispering those words in your ear. Your body shivered when his breath touched your neck. Your reaction made toto smirk.

“Dont you wanna try it out my love?” He asked softly as he got the butt plug on his hand. You looked up at him with doe eyes, “b-but aren’t we going t-to the paddock?” You asked confusingly. Toto smiled at you, his face was filled with pride but you didn’t know why. “My little angel is so intelligent” he said as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Yes we’re going to the paddock and yes youre going to wear it right now” he said, smirking at you devilishly. “And i want this cute little butt plug inside of you while we go to the paddock” he said and your eyes widened.

Toto lifted your skirt up and pushed your lacy panties aside. Your mouth fell open when toto brushed his fingers softly around your ass. He bend you over on the sink, one knee on the sink and the other leg supporting you to stand. “Spit on it, angel” he said as he held the butt plug in front your face. You spat on it and coated it perfectly with your tongue. You looked in the mirror and saw toto smile at you, being impressed by the fact that you coated it with your spit so nicely.

Your mouth fell open when toto pushed the butt plug inside of you. Your eyes rolled to the back when the temptation slapped you. Toto looked at you hungrily. Looking at how perfect you look with that baby pink butt plug inside of you. He then patted your ass to indicate you that you’re good to go.

In the paddock, it was toto looking at you devilishly and smirking a little. You just rolled your eyes at him. You knew that he was loving the little game he’s playing with you. But you hated it. You want toto. All you want is his touch, not a stupid butt plug. You want him.

“Daddy please? I want you” you pleaded, looking up at him. He smiled at you, wrapping his arms around you. “No no little angel. You have to wait until we go back home” he said as he swayed you a little with him. You let out a frustrated sigh and rested your head on his chest.

The whole day was really hard for you. You couldn’t help but clench your jaw because you couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much for you. At this point you were just frustrated.

But it was all worth it when you two went home.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

[kuni-is-daddy]

OKAY HEAR ME OUT (new anon here btw :3)

summoner!y/n summons a demon, that demon being scara but he was a very… lustful demon and had needs for his own, using y/n as his own personal pet >_<

DOM!Demon Scara X Summoner Female Reader

//HI ANON. WELCOME TO THE SCARANATION I HOPE U ENJOY UR STAY♥️

ScaramoucheMasterList

word count: 1.67k(150 follower special ♥️)

Featuring: A mention of chongyun,xiao and Kujou sara.

Warning: Scara horni. ((Teasing,Blowjb,M/press,Biting, aftercare.))

MINORS AND UNDERAGED BLOGS/USERS THIS IS NSFW CONTENT! PLEASE DONT INTERACT BEYOND THE CUT.

A cycle, That is what you would call your life once you moved from inazuma at a young age and became the strongest summoner in teyvat. Waking up in your house by guili plains to be greeted by your younger friend, Exorcist Chongyun at the door. He was a good kid and even saw you as his idol despite being in rival clans. Summoners had demon familiars. And would lead exorcists and even the lone yaksha of guili plains to exterminate the corruption deep within liyue. You wore a similar outfit to him with opposing colors. A white embroided hoodie with dark blue aligned the stitches, a black undershirt and skirt, separated by a silver belt holding your vision and trinkets to sedate demons; leading down to your stockings and boots. Wake up, summon spirits to kill, Run errands for the higher ups, train and sleep. So, you had a plan, Rebellion. All you needed was shouki no kami. The first descendant of the raiden gakoden who was sealed by his own creator. He was known for mediocre things; giving wishes or killing those that the summoner wanted dead. Only for a small price..

After moving all of the belongings out to the living room you stood in your empty room infront of the tri electro symbol made of chalk as lightning struck from the outside. The only thing remaining was your made bed and backpack. Along each side of the tri electro symbol laid 3 'artifacts' Each one representing the three betrayals he once suffered. The first was a figure of the almighty narukami ogoshu, something you had plenty of thanks to your distant friend kujou sara. The second was a blade crafted by a swordsmith from tartarsuna. The 3rd was a doll representing a young male child. As a summoner it was against your sworn oath to ever summon a demon for evil. But it didn't matter, with this new life shouki no kami would give you there'd be no need to turn back.

With a deep breath you began the chant and closed your eyes. "Oh everlasting arcane demon of wisdom I summon you forth with the 3 artifacts of your betrayals. Please bestow your divine gaze upon me." With the last word leaving your lips the world fell silent, not a single drop of rain poured down your cracked window and remained suspended with the rays of lightening as if all time stopped. It was ominous and different from you previous summons. Painfully silent with your rushing heartrate in your ear as the only comfort. You opened your eyes at the disturbance and looked at the ritual. 'The offerings are missing..So it worked.' you began to take a step to observe your surroundings when a timid yet soothing voice echo'd from behind you.

"Another human asking for my help. Hah, to think such a self righteous species would run to a demon." You turned to face the demon, falling into his enticing gaze as if it was the abyss itself as he sat on your bed, legs crossed and head resting against his fist on your headboard. The demon had a beautiful face, indigo hair that covered his ears and slashed against the blood red eyeliner. His horns we'rent too big and neither was his black tail with a heart shaped tip. "I'll make this easy for you, im not in a good mood. So dont waste my time." you blinked out of his capitvating gaze and remembered why you summoned him. "S-sorry. Im a summoner and my name is y/n. I..Want a new life." The demon raised an eyebrow "Y/n.. Now thats a surprise." He looked you up and down, examining your appearance. It really was you. Same face, same vision and the same beautiful body.. The demon smirked. "uhm..Do you know me?" you replied "Tsk, who doesnt? 'y/n, the savior of liyue and summoner of demons." He mocked. "Alot of people want you dead, you know that?" your heart sunk at his words. "D-dead.. why?" "Dunno. But if it we're me, come one. Come all id say." Shouki no kami left you in shock. You've already thought this 'destined' life of yours was a burden. But others didn't even want you to live it any longer. Your stomach began to turn a the thought, covering your mouth from nausea.

"But would you look at that, I finally got to see this pathetic world's strongest." He smiled, watching as you covered your mouth in disgust. "Pft- Don't tell me you'd really believe everything I said just like that? I'm a demon, I could be lying to you~" he teased, but you we're to caught up in his words, if they wanted you dead.. why did he refuse and kill them instead? Looking back at the demon, he seemed unbothered.. intrigued actually. It began creeping you out more then the thought of having a unknown target over your head for so long. The way he looked at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes during the subtle silence of your nervous breathing to the way his tail would sway when you told him your name... 'So.. a new life. That's what you want?' No kami unproped his legs, hitting his heel on your bag. Interested, He looked back at you again still stuck in a shocked daze and turned back to it. Picking it up as his black nails tugged at the zipper, revealing the many cursed tools, a sigil of permission and even the picture of him you used for the ritual. He took out the ripped paper. 'Shouki no kami, scaramouche: The prodigal.' "WAIT- dont touch that!" you snatched the bag from his hand, letting out a relieved sigh. "T-theres all kinds of things in there that could hurt you...and why are you even going through my stuff?!" you said defensively. "Hurt me? you think those little toys in there would have an effect on me." he revealed the sigil of permission in his hand, flinging it around like a human feeding a dog while sticking out his tongue. You angerly placed the bag down, climbing onto your bed and trying to take back the sigil.

Scara relished in your attempts to take it, your skirt brushed against his shorts while the fingertips of your smooth left hand grazed along his ripped black shirt. The closer you got to the demon, the more you smelled a metaled tint coming from him. The small droplets of blood oozing onto your hand. He would never let someone be ontop of him, nor have him in a view of submission but compared to the past summoners who he's killed. You've been the only interesting one and ontop of that..The strongest. The demon licked at his fangs, slowly bucking his hips up against your lower body. But with his guard down you snatched the sigil back and tucked it ontop of the dresser. Relaxed by Leaning back and sitting on the demons clothed length. This is the life you wanted, peaceful with no worrys of who killed who and what to summon, ironically for a split second this demon gave you that life. "How childish, the strongest summoner chasing after a sigil like a cat." "T-thats not the point.. Stop acting funny and give me my wish!" 'brat' You insisted as your body passively grinded against him. "A new life, Is that all you truly want?" He flicked his free hand as a spark of electro glowed Infront of your face. It was enticing, you already we're told people wanted you dead so what more did you have to lose. "Y-yes! I want it..please Shouki no kami." your fingers dug into the demons shirt. His cock twitched at the way you pleaded for his blessing, over something so stupid as a 'new life' he knew more then anyone the divine dont mind playing cruel tricks on its prisoners.

----Smut

"Then get on your knees." The words left his smooth lips as his tail trailed to your leg, feeling against the texture of your stockings. Making you jolt up a little from the sensation. "E-excuse me?!" "You fucking heard me. Get on your knees and show me how bad you want this life." It was threatening, with no hesitation you quickly rose off of the demon as he began propping himself up just as you first saw him only his legs we're spread and eyes filled with lust. You looked back at the sigil only for scara to grab you by your hair to have you face directly at his pained boner. "To think the strongest would be more focused on a useless thing like this instead of me." He jerked your head again, "Now tell me, y/n. How bad do you want this life?" "M-more then anything shouki no kami! Please." He chuckled, "Anything huh?" "Y-yes shouki no-" He sucked his teeth. "Scara, call me scara." "O-okay scara..Please take my blood and-" He cut you off, "blood? You think i need your blood for this?" you nodded, "No, brat. I have something better for me and you." His black painted nails disappeared into his pants, slowly revealing the tip of his length then the rest of his cock. You gulped, From your position his size looked bigger then your whole head. No..you we're sure it was bigger. "Be a good girl and make me feel good, Maybe then i'll give it too you." He brushed the tip near your face.

Reluctantly, you licked your lips the trailed your tongue around the tip while the demon did nothing but stare at you as he held your hair, Unamused. "More. Do you not know how to suck a cock?" Your heart raced as he tightened his grip along your hair. It was humiliating with your title to be down on a demon like this and you we're sure the pervert was getting off to it. His length entered your mouth. "hng..Shit your so warm." You began bobbing your head up and down slowly, Adjusting to his size. "Fuck..Thats it..Go faster." He bucked his hips up into your face, Hitting the back of your throat as you desperately avoided gagging. "Fuck...faster. Be a good pet and make master feel good" You shifted your free hand down and under your skirt. Tending the sudden wetness inbetween your legs. Scara ran his hand through his hair, watching your hand trail down to your skirt. "Oh yeah? Is my pet getting off to this? How- Hng..Fucking pathetic.." his tail trailed against your hoodie and back to your neck. nudging against you more to take him deeper. "Fuck yes..Masters close, swallow it all pet- Ah swallow it~" He tugged his hand on your hair again, Pressing you up and down on his cock balls deep as he reached his high. Your eyes began rolling back as you choked on his length, tears streaming down your cheeks and Gripping your hand onto his thigh from his aggression while your other toy'd with your clit. With a loud groan his hot fluid rushed down your throat making you see stars as he pulled your head off his length. "Ngh...shit..Such a good pet..Who would've thought the great y/n would-" "P-please sca-master can i have my wish now?" he tilted his head at your request. Oh right.. you did ask for a new life. "Sure pet~ Get on the bed." you whined from his words "M-master~ please i-" He picked you up, slamming you onto the bed face down. squishing your head onto the pillow while jerking your hips up and ass near his cock. Your skirt poofed up, revealing your now ripped stockings near your private parts. Scara's fangs we're aching to just sink his teeth into your thighs or any part of your body but you we're the strongest after all, he didnt take that forgranted. The second he let his guard down again you'd most likely try to take advantage.

He trailed his hand under your skirt, while the other brushed your hips closer to his cock. All you could do was hug the pillow through your muffled pleads. "M-master! Please- wait- d-dont touch their its-" "Wet? Hah..I know pet~ you want this cock so bad dont you?" He ripped your stockings and skirt off and began stroking at his length before entering. Even slapping at your ass just to laugh at you jolting from it. "This...is going to be your new life pet~" In a blink he shoved his entire length inside you. "S-scara! Wait ah~ i-its too big!" He leaned down, grabbing and choking you from the back of your neck. "AH~ Mahster~ I-i cant~ Please~" He grew irritated at your pleads. "Shh..You'll be fine pet. Now be good f' me and take it~ fuck.." the sound of skin slapping and your headboard creeking echo'd across the room as scara groaned and even let out higher pitched moans from how good you we're taking him. "Thats it..Just like that.. Im gonna fucking cum inside you for being such a good girl. The strongest- Hah~ fucking summoner crying for me. Fuck yes~" He let go of your throat, as you panted and drooled on the pillow from his now faster pace. "Master~ AH~ Y-your going to fast! I- m' close!" "Fuck yeah your gonna squirt f' me? Do it y/n~ Cum all over my cock and ill give it to you~ Hah.. Ill give you what you fucking want~" A chord struck in you, and for the next couple of seconds it felt as if your mind turned to mush while you sunk into the pillow, panting from the juices that escaped onto his length. Scara couldnt help himself anylonger, He flipped you over onto your back then pulled his pants completely off as you still held onto the pillow in shock. Folding your legs onto his shoulders and pounding into you in a mating press. "Hiding behind a- ah~ pillow now? Tsk- you really are pathethic-" He tossed the pillow onto the floor and sunk his head into your neck. "Mahster! AH MASTER T'TO MUCH~ SCARA-" He sunk his fangs into your neck. Making you moan out and grab onto his horns from the shock wave of pain and pleasure. He came instantly from your grip and passive stroking on his horns. Painting your walls white with his sticky load. He pulled away from your neck after noticing your sudden rested breathing. 'She passed out' he thought. Scoffing, he licked up clean the small amount of blood from your neck. Leaving his electro symbol in replace of the healing bitemark. Scara didnt know what came over him, But his tail shifted towards the palm of your hand as if it had a mind of its own. Your too precious.

'To think id be setting up a bath for another human.' in a few quick teleports you we're in your tub surrounded by bubbles and a sweet smell of your soap. Your eyelashes fluttered from the water and vivid sight of the demon. "Tsk. Do all summoners have such a messy living room?" "S-sorry..Does that mean i get my wish now?" the demon wiped a lather of soap on your chest while admiring the size of your breasts. "Your still obsessed over that? Hmm..." "I-it is your job as a demon isnt it? To grant wishes. Or at least for you-" he smirked at your reply. "Clever arent you? Well..The situations changed since you've never specified what you wanted in this 'new life.' Your going to be my personal fu- pet. In exchange, I'll...Tag along with you. I want to see how strong the 'savior of teyvat' really is.."

In that moment you wanted to burry your head under the soapy water but all you did was let out a heavy sigh and sink Into the touch of him resting behind you, coating your skin in soap. Scara was right, the divine have cruel ways of playing tricks on its prisoners. But maybe..just maybe.. you we're both a blessing in disguise for each other.

THANK YOU FOR READING :)

[zuppizup]

Bloom

July 7th – Flowers

“How did you know Amaya and Janai were getting married?”

“Huh?” Rayla blinks, looking up from her book as she frowns, mind a little behind this random tangent.

“The flowers or something,” Callum shuffles a little closer to her, pushing his book aside.

The library is quiet this late in the evening, but he speaks softly anyway, head close to hers.

“Oh,” her own book becomes forgotten as she looks to him. “Those were traditional Sunfire wedding flowers, and they were in a bouquet. I suppose I just guessed.”

“Good guess.” Callum smirks, resting his head in his hand. “Could have been embarrassing if they were just making a flower arrangement or something.”

“That would have been a pretty fancy arrangement, don’t you think?” She rolls her eyes, snorting. “And they’ve been together for two years, it wasn’t that big a leap.”

“I guess.” Callum sighs, his smile falling just a fraction as his eyes wander. A moment later he shakes himself though, looking back at her. “So, eh, what are traditional Moonshadow wedding flowers?”

“We don’t have flowers.” She answers automatically, even though she’s surprised by the slight change in subject. “Or, well, cut ones. Weddings are usually held in the grove, I suppose, so there’s already flowers and plants there, but, we don’t really have bunches of flowers like Sunfires.”

“Huh,” Callum frowns as he ponders her answer.

“What?”

“I dunno.” Shrugging, he sits up a little straighter. “I guess I just assumed all cultures do wedding flowers. Katolis does. And Duren.”

Rayla thinks about this. Perhaps it makes sense in a place like Katolis or Lux Aurea, that bit more removed from nature. Or in her experience anyway. Growing up like she did, nature always felt part of her life. “Flowers are pretty, I suppose.”

It feels… charged discussing weddings and flowers with Callum and she struggles to think straight.

“Why don’t Moonshadows have flowers?” He asks, then seems to second guess himself. “Or, em, is that-”

“No, that’s- It’s not-” Insensitive? Over stepping? Early on in their acquaintance they’d both inadvertently insulted each other with long held prejudices or silly assumptions. It feels like they are so far beyond that though. Having flowers or not at a wedding is a simple discussion. Or it should be. “Flowers don’t really last, do they? Ones you’ve cut, I mean.” It’s not like she’s really thought about these things. They are simply part of her life, her culture. She likes how he makes her think about them though. Examine old ways and decide if they still fit who she is now. “If you’re making that commitment, well, we believe it’s supposed to be forever. Not just in this life, but you know, beyond. On the other side too.” She shrugs, maybe it is silly and old fashioned. “Flowers wilting and dying... I guess it’s seen as a sort of bad omen for Moonshadows.”

Callum watches her without comment, clearly pondering her words. “You know what? That makes a lot of sense.”

“You think?” She feels herself blush and hopes it’s not that obvious in the soft evening light.

Maybe she’s mistaken, but she thinks he might be blushing too. “Yeah, from the Moonshadow philosophy, I think I do.”

She can’t help but smile at him, rolling her eyes in amusement. “What, learning the moon arcanum now, mister mage?” That clever mind of his, always working, pondering, thinking.

He shrugs, smiling softly. “I’d like to.”

“Well, dont expect me to be of any help.” Rayla feels her stomach flip and her mouth go dry for reasons she can’t really explain.

He laughs softly, eyes crinkling in the corners. “You’re the most helpful with magic stuff.”

She snorts loudly and rolls her eyes, pulling her book back closer. He can tease her, if he likes.

It’s not as if she doesn’t like it too.

Callum doesn’t go back to his book though, clearly still interested in the topic. “So, if you don’t actually have flowers, what do you do for decorations?

Rayla looks up from her book, pondering how best to explain. “We craft flowers.”

“Craft them?” Callum’s interest is most certainly piqued as he pulls his chair closer.

“Yeah. Out of paper or cloth. Or wool, weaving them.” She thinks back to the various celebrations she’s attended over the years, smiling fondly. The home she can no longer call home. “Ethari would make them out if metal… But they last, you know? Forever. If you care for them.”

He smiles at her, eyes soft and cheeks most certainly flushed.

“What?” She desperately wants to know what he’s thinking when he looks at her like that, and though they’re growing closer again, she doesn’t quite feel like she can ask directly. “Sounds dumb and backwards to you cultured Katolians?”

“No, not at all. I- I really like it.” He reaches for her hand, squeezing her fingers gently. “It sounds lovely.”

Later that night, she’s getting ready for bed, brushing her long hair as she watches the moon through her open curtains. Sitting on the bed, she frowns when something crinkles under her foot. Pulling a sheet of paper from under her rear, her heart races when she sees the page covered with beautiful drawings of more flowers than she knows the names of.

[vgilantee]

I DO I WANNA READ THST

I'm writing this under the assumption that folks have a basic understanding of order 66 but if not... I'll happily ramble!

anyway. pilot!johnny x jedi!reader (also I started this fully with the intention of writing smut but... didn't happen whoops)

~✧

it's a deal made in the heat of the moment. one minute you're tracking a potential separatist leader, the next you are running as hard and fast as you can. whirling your lightsaber as your men, your friends, shoot at you. calling you a traitor, your commander - a man you had shared a drink with not a week prior - shouting orders to shoot to kill.

you blinked hard, clearing the misting in your eyes so you could get as far away as possible.

"Oi, lass!" an accented voice called from your left, through the brush, but you couldn't stop.

"If it's important, run and talk!!" you yelled back, deflecting a shot going in the direction of the voice. you heard a yelp, before much closer footsteps matched your frantic pace.

"So why're they shootin' at ye? Look like a jedi with the lightsaber and all but... they're clones, they shouldnae be shooting at you." the stranger turned and shot over his shoulder, and you tried not to wince as the sound of a body hitting the ground reached you. they were your men, good soldiers and good men.

"I dont... I don't know. my commander he, he got a transmission and suddenly they were trying to kill me!" another shot deflected, another body. "I have no idea what's happening."

out the corner of you eye you saw him nod before he grabbed your hand and tugged.

"this way!" you pulled back, but he didn't let go of your hand. "hen, if ye have more men on yer ship, what makes ye ken they will nae try kill you too? just come with me, I have a ship." you weighed the options. a stranger who is offering you a ship, shooting at your soldiers, former battalion. or the clones you once called friends who were trying to kill you.

"fine." you let him guide you, further into the woodland where the brush grew thicker. he seemed to know where to step, what turns to take, and the sounds of heavy footsteps making chase and blaster fire grew quieter. not enough to stop running - force knew that you couldn't stop until you were at least off this planet, and even then... - but enough that you could lower your lit saber and follow the man who had yet to let go of your hand.

to call what you broke through into a clearing would be an insult to clearings; it looked like this pilot had lowered his ship onto what he perceived to be the weakest trees. and maybe he was right, considering how they had bent and snapped under the small ship.

you didn't stop running until you collapsed onto the deck of the ship, bay door sealing shut behind you.

the hull of the ship was small, a small sunken area you could vault out of and take two paces into the cockpit. the area you could see was mostly clean, but it was clear he occupied this ship alone.

"where to, jedi?" the stranger was not looking at you as he began to take off, the hiss of air as the landing gear retracted and the engines kicked on.

"I-" you cut yourself off as the small ship flew over the landing craft you had been in just that morning. a quiet beeping sound caught your attention and you shuffled around in your pockets and pulled out a secured comlink. a recording of General Kenobi appeared, warning all jedi to stay away from Coruscant.

"I have nowhere to go. if I can't go back to Coruscant, I... that's the only home I've known for a very long time." you dropped into the copilot seat as you realised that the life you had before was simply, gone.

you flinched as a warm, gloved hand lightly touched your arm.

"well first things first, let's get you some clothes. yer whole outfit screams 'jedi' and we cannae have that, can we?"

"no. I suppose not." the ship jolted as it took off into hyperspace, a destination clearly in mind for this stranger. "thank you, by the way. I would be dead without you..." you trailed off, both realising you don't know his name, and because the weight of everything had you defeated.

"Johnny. name's johnny." you reply with your own name and shake his outstretched hand before turning to look back at the racing blue outside. "dinnae worry, hen. things will get better."

~✧

hahahahshaha apparently this ended up being a rough draft for the first chapter for a star wars au whoops!!

[dryad-dc]

All the batkids are seriously well rounded in the superhero department, Bruce made sure of that, but each one has a specialty. (Mainly headcanons but definitely some rehashing of canon)

Barbara obviously (canonically, duh) is a cyber specialist, queen of digging shit up and/or burying it in the deepest depths of the internet, breaking through firewalls like they’re tissue paper and really anything that requires a computer

Dick, I wanted to say acrobatics but I figured with his police training as well, Dick is GREAT at crowd control. He’s also a people person, which definitely gives him a leg up in that sot of scenario

In a similar vein, Jason is THE people person on the team. No matter who a person is, he can connect with them on a personal level. He’s always been one of Gotham’s favourite capes, even after Red Hood (people eventually connected the dots between the second, kindly Robin who disappeared suddenly and the Red Hood who was constantly having shouting matches with Batman about his death. Forgiveness was imminent) he was the go to for any situation where people were the focus. Hostage situation? Call Red Hood. Suicide risk? Call Red Hood. Old lady need help crossing the street? You guessed it, call Red Hood.

Tim is, naturally, the surveillance expert of the family. He’s intuitive, naturally drawn to places that dont draw attention. Plus, hes quick as hell which makes not being spotted so much easier.

Stephanie learned her craft in high school, with a few well placed words she can make entire hierarchies fall to chaos. Seriously, she should come with a warning label for these guys, “You don’t have Spoiler, Spoiler has you.”

Cass’s speciality is obviously (read: canonically) Body language. Theres no hiding a secret from her. She’ll catch a punch before its even thrown, put you on the ground before you can blink. Batman scares criminals, but Black Bat TERRIFIES them.

Duke is master of theatrics. You need a spectacle? You call Signal. Great for distractions, misdirection and AMAZING enterances. It really fucks with criminals, because while they’re used to theatrics from other criminals, but Duke is on a whole other level.

Damian is a master strategist. He grew up in the League of Assassins, learning the ins and outs of serious battle, of course he’s gonna be a master strategist. Operations he plan rarely go wrong, but when they do his backups have backups and if THOSE fail (they never do unless someone else fucks it up) he can strategize on the fly.

[junebugcraft]

howdy^^ -> north/juno, he/aer lesbian, 18 yrs old.

what to expect:

this is an myct blog! the main smps i am into are hermitcraft and the life series, though I enjoy anything with martyn in it tbh🫶🏼

there WILL be shipping!! if you dont like that, uh, dont continue? (always c!)

there may be suggestive themes (nothing explicit)

feel free to send art requests though i cant promise ill get to them!

also only repost my art with proper credit.

dni: basic stuff (racist, queerphobic, ableist, etc), zionist/pro israel, proship or whatever y’all call yourselves.

tags:

junebug talks <- my rambles

junebug crafts <- anything i make and post like artwork or writing

junebug answers <- responses to asks

cat tag <- tag for cat related posts (very important)

playlists(all wips):

treebark/3rd life.

martyn/3rd life.

ren/3rd life.

desert duo/3rd life.

flower husbands/3rd life.

my favs & blinkes and userboxes below->

my favs:

characters-creators;

grian.

mumbo jumbo.

geminitay.

rendog.

martyn inthelittlewood.

docm77.

ethoslab.

goodtimeswithscar.

pearlescentmoon.

impulsesv.

skizzleman.

ships;

grumbo.

treebark/renchanting.

rendoc.

flower husbands.

smalletho.

ethubs.

clethubs.

cletho.

gempearl.

desert duo (only under deeply angsty circumstances I fear💀).

duos/groups;

gem & etho.

gem & impulse & skizz.

skizz & impulse.

grian & scar.

grian & doc.

ren & bigb.

scott & cleo.

ren & iskall.

pearl & etho.

the mounders.

gem & the scotts.

*these are not in order!!

(“this user’s fav is: grian” blinkie by enderpawu)

[cyberdragoninfinity]

A while ago, you did a thread on Yugioh rival symbolism, but it was early enough in your Arc-V watch that you didn't have anything major to say on Reiji/Declan. Now that you've experienced Arc-V in full, what do you think about Declan and his symbolism?

OHHH GOOD QUESTION!! god i love declan so much. i feel like i still need to Really Ruminate on him to fully grip all of the potential symbolism he's got but there's definitely some stuff I'm already locked on that I really like.

I dont think I realized until someone pointed it out that the Akabas all have a card suite motif but it rules so hard; Declan's definitely got such a kickass design especially with that in ind... the diamond earrings, his bangs, the red in his color palette. It's subtle, it's tasteful, I really like it. I like that his character goes hand in hand with what the Diamond suite tends to symbolize too (progress, prosperity, career advancement--diamonds are also apparently associated with the element of air sometimes too, which is insanely funny considering Declan's scarf that can achieve flight in the manga (?!??!).)

In general it's really funny to me that Declan kind of has this "business and corporate hierarchy" motif, with the diamond symbolism and also that thing where D/D/Ds have like corporate titles and are just as much about the landscape of business as they are about Sickass Demons. And I think it's fun how even though Declan is a businessman first and foremost, he isn't really like.... a corrupt businessman, especially not in the way businessmen in yugioh can be. i could write an essay and a half about how declan is such a genuinely caring person but that's it's own story for another time. He's crafted his wealth and business connections into a weapon to fight his father and his deck also weaponizes contracts and businessmen to destroy opponent, it's a cool parallel.

GOD SO MUCH OF THIS IS JUST "WHY DO D/D/DS HAVE LIKE 8 MOTIFS GOING ON WITH THEM" but like practically all of them relate back to Declan as a character in some way! It's so cool! Cuz you have these Different Dimension Demons, but theyre all named after ancient kings and warriors and great scientists, and Declan in general has such a vast Medieval Warrior King/Prince/Royalty type symbolism. The Lancers are his knights right down to the logo. He assumes the 'throne' (LID Presidency) after his father fucks off to Evil Duel Academy. He fights a goddamn dragon (Zarc). Hell even the paler grey in his hair looks very crown like. It's making me a little sicko mode to think about especially through the lens of viewing Arc-V itself as a creation myth or a fairy tale. BUT THAT AGAIN IS ANOTHER KETTLE OF FISH.

hang on wtf is the symbolism of the King of Diamonds, actually

OH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALRIGHT!!!!! YEA THAT'S DECLAN BABEYYYY

hey haha also i didn't know Akaba means 'red horse.' hahah which horseman was that again

AH.

also. one more thing. does make me a bit ill thinking about how his deck is entirely Fiends and he uses them to spar with Yuya (who of course has devil motifs whether he wants them or not)....something in there maybe....blinks wet eyes

[simply-ozul]

yippe!! my first post yaaay :D

dont know wut to think of it so ill let you be the judge lemme know how you like it!

enjoy <3

Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler || just a fluffy oneshot ft. flustered Robin and adoring Nancy

Just a Lovely Thing Like You is Fine

Nancy was never one for huge gifts or gestures; she usually preferred spending private quality time with her loved ones at home, on a picnic, or even a walk through the park. It’s the little things, y’know? At least, for her it is. Seeing as she spent the majority of her teen years hunting and being hunted by interdimensional monsters and sociopathic murderers with unexplainable mind abilities.

However, it was a little different with one Robin Buckley. Nancy knew the girl was dirt poor, to put it simply. She couldn’t afford fancy gifts, or shiny jewelry, but Nancy didn’t really want any of that anyway. Despite this, Robin still insisted on proudly presenting things to her girlfriend.

She’d write her little letters with mixed phrases from different languages she’s learned over the years, giving little translations on the back of the page with little colored heart doodles all over the paper. She’d make little crafts that Nancy absolutely adored, and she knew Robin poured all her love and appreciation into the little lop-sided clay swan holding a little stick that was poorly shaped into a shotgun she’d given Nancy for her birthday.

Nancy placed it carefully on her bathroom sink so she’d be able to look at it during her morning and evening routine, smiling the entire time.

However, Nancy’s favorite thing Robin gave her was something so simple and cliche. Flowers. Nancy wanted to laugh at herself in disbelief sometimes. Flowers? Really Nancy?

But then again, Nancy could argue that the little adorable twist Robin put to it made Nancy’s heart swell, squeeze and melt all at once. She’d always show up to Nancy’s door, hands and knees covered in dirt while it had somehow smeared everywhere else on her body. She’ll never forget the first time Robin gave her flowers.

As soon as Nancy pulls open the door, her eyes widen in surprise. Robin. Sweet, sweet Robin. The shaggy-haired girl held a clutch of beautifully bright wildflowers in her hands, the stems uneven and slightly bent or broken in some areas. The taller raised the fist of color, eyes big and puppy-like as she looks at Nancy with a ducked head. The brunette can see the light dust a pink glowing beneath her freckles—as well as noticing the smear of dirt across her cheekbone.

“Um… I got you flowers.” She mumbles shyly, before straightening in a rush to continue. “And I know you’re not really a huge fan of gifts or whatever, but… I was walking home after dog-sitting and I noticed them in a ditch, and they were so colorful and felt like a perfect gift so I couldn’t not pick them, y’know? I tried to pick them as carefully as I could but it was really hard to hold and pick flowers at the same time, and I basically ran to your house to give them to you, and some of the petals fell off and I just,” Robin pauses, forcing herself to quit her babbling. Nancy can only blink, mouth slightly agape as she listens. “They’re pretty. They reminded me of you.” She finishes with a shrug, shuffling on her feet.

After an awkward amount of silence, Robin backtracks. “I get it, you probably think it’s stupid, right? I mean, wildflowers? They’re practically weeds and store-bought ones are so much prettier. Even then, flowers are such a dumb tradition anyway—“

“You picked them for me?” 

Robin chokes to a stop, head jerking a bit in surprise.

“I- yeah? Did you want ones from the store instead…?” She trails off with a squeak. The flowers in her hand sink as Robin deflates.

Nancy can’t help but smile, huffing through her nose. She finally pushes through the doorway, stepping in front of her girlfriend. She looks at her through her lashes. Her hand reaches up to brush against the tight hold Robin has on the flowers, and her fist loosens. Nancy gently pries the flowers out of the tense girl’s grasp, bringing them up to her face, partially to smell them as well as hide her face.

“They’re beautiful, Robin.” Nancy whispers. She can’t stop the giggle escaping her throat when Robin dramatically deflates in relief.

“Holy shit. I was worried you’d hate them or something. I spent like thirty minutes picking out the prettiest ones and now there’s dirt under my nails and it sucks big time, but it’s so worth it now that I know for sure you like them. I mean, you do, right?”

Nancy laughs, bringing her unoccupied hand up to caress Robin’s cheek. The fumbling girl pauses, breath hitching, unable to help herself as she leans into the touch. Pushing herself onto her toes, Nancy leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of Robin’s mouth.

“Thank you, Robbie. I love them.” Robin freezes, eyes wide and sparkling. Nancy’s brows furrow in concern; had Robin stopped breathing? She’s about to check when the lanky girl clears her throat and nods, rubbing her sweaty palms against her jeans while she looks away. Nancy bites her lip at the red that blossoms up from Robin’s neck to across her cheeks and nose, trying her hardest to keep her grin from growing. Her cheeks hurt, she doesn’t care.

“Good, good. That’s good.” Robin stutters. She looks shyly to Nancy once again, opening and closing her mouth for a moment. Nancy raises a perfect eyebrow questioningly. Finally, she squeaks out,

“Could you do that again?” Nancy laughs.

[grinmaw]

Bellow the cut is what happens on page 14. If you dont wanna be spolied then dont read below cut.

I was qurious to see what a fan- fic version of the story might look like. There is only so much I can put in a single page so this is a more in- depth view of the story.

Later that night…

She did take upon his ‘suggestion’, and was now trying to get as comfy as possible for a good night sleep. As the king’s very special guest, or friend rather, she was of course, offered an equally special room.

Fancy was one word to describe it. It was decked from floor to ceiling in furniture only befitting someone who belonged in royalty. Like a Princess... A grand bed took a sizable portion of the room, covered with fine cotton sheets and fluffy pillows. The rest of the room was decorated with all manner of furniture, all expertly crafted, some of them full of clothes like dresses and such. Others had jewelry and other trinkets tucked away in their drawers. Even the carpets were made of fine material and had intricate patterns sewed into them.

Rozaria didn’t care much for this finery. She hasn’t even used the bed since day one, quite content to sleep on a pile of pillows on the floor. She was busily kneading some of them with her paws, her claws softly scratching the fabric.

If Bowser wanted to treat her like a princess then so be it, she wasnt about to complain. His antics were still very much amusing to her.  

She was back in her dragon form, instead of her usual humanoid one. There were no prying eyes, or quivering voices hidden in dark corners, so she was quite content to be her true self behind closed doors. The Koopas were brave, but it didn’t elude her eyes how sometimes they would look wearily at her, and grip their weapons a little tighter as she passed them. It was to be expected, she supposed. She was like a predator walking amongst potential snacks, and who knew when she would decide that shes done playing pretend and take over the castle. Of course they wouldn’t trust a dragon that easily…unlike Bowser.

He seems to be the only one that was not unnerved by her presence, and would seek it even. The past few days he would drag her around the castle, as if they were chained together, all day long. She didn’t understand why was he being so hospitable to a creature such as her, but she wasn’t about to question him. She was quite content on waiting out whatever game they were playing. If he was pretending to be nice just to get something in return, then he would eventually slip up. They might’ve made a pact of friendship, but Rozaria wasn’t so naïve to think that that wouldn’t be broken at some point. For now, she would just have to be patient..

The castle was eerie quiet without its King present. Bowser did leave for the Mushroom Kingdom that night, just as he said he would.

“Guess he just cant wait to meet his girlfriend. Or perhaps he is the romantic type that likes to propose under the full moon?”, she could just imagine him getting down on one giant knee and taking the princesses’ dainty hand in his big meaty paw, blinking at her dreamily, with the full moon framing them both. A scene straight out of the sappiest of romance novels. She snickered at the thought, covering her mouth with her paw.

And just a few days ago he was ready to throw down with her when she crashed in his castle the first time. To think that a brute like him could be such a hopeless romantic.. He would sweep that princess right off her feet, probably.

Rozaria opened her mouth in a giant yawn, her sharp teeth glinting in the dark room. She spread out her arms, and laid her head on top of them, settling down on the pile of pillows.

“I’m sure he will gloat all about it tomorrow”, she closed her eyes and drifted off.

-----

The sun had replaced the moon some hours ago, its warm rays shining through the window. Rozaria wasn’t exactly asleep but wasnt quite ready to leave her comfy place on top of the pillows. The sun’s rays were rather pleasant on her scales.

A booming noise resonated through the castle. Her feathers stood on end and her eyes flew open. She lifted her head to listen better. It happened again, at some other location In the castle. It was like a bunch of explosions going on.

“Are we under attack?”...

[dilatorywriting]

afdhjdjd so. Reaper!Rook brainrot anon here. Back again, because 3 is the magic number, and apparently I'm a liar and I actually have one last piece for you. Partly as thanks for putting up with me and my loonnngg text walls for the past couple days, and partly a "I hope you feel better soon! So here's something extra sweet"

So as you can imagine, the indifferent, apathetic, unbothered nature of Baker!Reader means they aren't generally flustered by things. Rook's flowery language is no exception, and conversations between the two generally look something like this to the outside viewer:

Rook: Alas! Your metal heart is missing! Where could it have wandered, from where I last saw it? MC: Second drawer on the right. (translation: Rook couldn't find the tea strainer. Your tea strainer happens to be heart-shaped.)

However, there are some things Rook does which make your chest feel warm. This is usually when he's speaking to you without much verbal dressage, and his voice is lower, and there's something softer in his eye.

The first time you really took notice of it was the first time Rook was ever late. Rook was always punctual to a fault, which, considering his line of work, was a true testament to his abilities. He always, without fail, returned to your bakery at 4:30am, since the day you met him. But it's now 5:30am, and he hasn't shown up yet. You're already halfway through prepping the bakewell batter, when you realize you're out of almond extract, and you remember you weren't even supposed to be making bakewell tarts today. Rooks absence weighs on the back of your mind a lot more than you'd ever expected it to, and you move through the prep in a distracted daze. You'd wondered before, in passing, if Rook would just simply disappear one day, once his curiosity was satisfied. You'd never dwelled on it long, because the thought was sour in your throat.

Rook arrives a little closer to 6. There's a lot of blood on him, and for the first time you wonder if any of it is his - if he can bleed at all, or be wounded. His shirt is also badly torn, but there dont seem to be any marks on him. The next thing you know, you're standing right in front of him, hands hovering awkwardly in the air before crossing over your chest. If Rook is surprised, he doesn't show it, but his typical, polished expression does seem a shade apologetic. He hands you a burlap sack as he launches into one of his flowery speeches. The words run over your head, but the gist of it is him apologizing for being late.

Inside the sack are three things: a wrapped cut of meat (from what? you have no idea), some dried lavender that appears to be glowing faintly, and - at this you blink - almond extract. You look up at him, only to find him watching you, with a cross between curiosity and... anticipation? Rook was very hard to read at times.

And it's hard to parse exactly what you feel, in that moment, but it's... something. Something that makes you get on your tip toes (your hand grabbing his shoulder for balance - it doesnt budge under your weight, like he's made of marble, or something), and press a kiss to his cheek as you tell him "thank you". Rook blinks, then smiles - a soft, fragile thing, unlike the strong, crafted ones that typically grace his face. He simply says "You're welcome," in a softer, quieter, tone than before. And you feel warm. A warmth in your chest that has nothing to do with the large ovens behind you.

(annnddd scene. I had this last piece of tooth rotting fluff stuck in my head, filed it away because I've poured sooooo much brainrot about Rook in your ask box alreadey, but then read that you have a cold so. I thought "You know what? Let's do it. Let's send in the extra sweet fluff like it's a get-well-soon card for one last hurrah")

Excuse me while I IMPLODE. Holy shit this is BEYOND ADORABLE. EVERY PART YOU'VE SENT IN IS A WHOLE ASS TREAT AND IT'S KILLING ME. I HOPE YOU KNOW HOW AMAZING YOU ARE, FRIEND BECAUSE AHHHHHHHHH

But yup. Nope. This cinches it. Hello Word Doc, my old friend. Welcome to a new Hyper Fixaxtion Hell

And thank you, thank you!! I'm hopefully getting over my ick! (Went to comic con this weekend while already not feeling 100% and it took me out. Been lying around like a dehydrated slug for the past two days lol) This is such a lovely treat. Thank you~ 💚 💚 

[pjisskullourful]

in honour of this happening at my gig(its for me, save your breath telling me it aint cos it is! they were in the same building as me. damithan supremacy is fucking real) imma post a little overdue something

my rainbow family halloween fic never came together, i had a cute idea but sometimes the fic dont fic. but yall can have the first 1k+ of what i did write, which includes a little secret i've been keeping from yall for the throuples future. please enjoy, i wish october had been nicer to me so i could have gotten this fic finished for yall

With nothing but Britney Spears to hear as you styled the long blonde wig, it almost felt like old times. You were reminded of spending a huge chunk of your paycheck on new wigs and spending practically every Saturday night at a live music venue, standing for hours in the most uncomfortable shoes known to man. You remembered the extra concentration that had been put into styling the wig that you wore to surprise your boyfriends with your debut (and only) performance in drag.

The illusion of nostalgia was being routinely interrupted by your baby bump getting in your way. At thirty-three weeks pregnant, your movements had to be adjusted from the typical. That kept you from getting entirely lost in memories, along with the blinking baby monitor set up on your desk.

This wasn’t your first time working on this wig, you had been at it with the hairspray and curling iron many times during the course of this month. And it was almost perfect, almost ready to go atop Damiano’s head to complete his Lestat costume. For this year’s iteration of Victoria and René's famous Halloween parties, your boyfriends were dressing to match one another. They were channelling the leads from 1994’s Interview with the Vampire, with Ethan taking on Brad Pitt’s Louis.

You were going as one of their victims, with prosthetic, gory wounds ready to be glued to your body. The 1800’s dance-style dress you planned to wear would accommodate your tummy, as well as fitting the theme since you had gone at it with scissors and dark red paint.

You were interrupted from your work by the sound of your family returning home. Damiano, Ethan and the three kids were back from their excursion to a local pumpkin patch. You unplugged the curling iron, leaving it on the heat-resistant pad before easing yourself onto your feet. You collected the baby monitor before leaving the room, ready for the moment when Bowie awoke from his nap.

When you got downstairs you followed the voices of Ethan and Marsha, finding them in the family room. They were standing at the crafting table, which was currently dominated by the largest real-life pumpkin you had ever seen - it appeared to be three times the size of your head.

“You don’t think his name is Patrick?” He was asking of your daughter.

“No, that’s the name of the starfishies.” She replied, speaking as if this rule of hers was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right, well maybe this is a girl, a girl named Paula.”

She looked at the giant vegetable with her eyes narrowed, carefully studying it with this new information. Ultimately, she decided her dad was speaking the truth and nodded her head. “Paula the pumpkin.”

“That’s the most Paula-looking pumpkin I’ve ever seen.” You contributed your opinion as you walked closer to them.

“Hi Mama. Do you like the pumpkin Cosmo picked? I helped.” She said, perked up with pride.

“You guys did an amazing job.” You said. “You don’t need to keep that heavy jacket on now that you’re inside, Miss Thing.”

She fumbled with the combination of zipper and buttons on her winter coat. But she succeeded without assistance and pulled the garment off, handing it to you straight away.

“How about you go check if Papa needs any help making lunch?” Ethan suggested.

She left for the kitchen and you turned to look at your boyfriend, a displeased look on your face when you began to speak. “You got the smallest one they had, eh?”

“The kids picked it. What was I supposed to do- tell them that they picked wrong?” He asked.

“You’re supposed to redirect them.” You said. “Come on, we talked about this and we all agreed- no more pumpkins bigger than Moe. They’re gonna drive us nuts, asking every day for it to be moved around the veranda, or from the front veranda to the back, then the opposite.”

“I know, but you should have seen how excited he was, he was planning out all the cool things he would have space to add. I didn’t have the heart to stifle his creativity.” He said, clearly trying to win you over with his sweetness.

“You let my children run wild, Ethan.” You attempted to maintain your stern tone.

The expression on his face changed as he switched to the tactic of distracting you. “You smell like hairspray, have you been working on the wig again? I would love to see the progress.”

“Yeah, I bet you would.” You said sarcastically.

Before he could continue his facade, everything was interrupted by your son’s crying coming through the speaker you held. Bowie had woken up, providing Ethan with a great distraction.

He grabbed the baby monitor before you had a chance to react. “I’ve got him.” Swiftly he was disappearing out of the room and up the staircase.

You gave the large pumpkin another look. You were glad that this year you had an excuse to count you out of the three kids' consistent redecorating ideas. It got very tedious trying to keep up with them deciding, then re-evaluating the perfect spot for the heavy decoration.

By the time Ethan came into the kitchen with Bowie the toddler had stopped crying. You were sitting with the rest of your kids along the island, everyone enjoying their own serving of scrambled eggs. Damiano was making sure each child had the drink they wanted.

“He’s okay.” Ethan said of Bowie, who was looking around the room with bright eyes. “He just wanted us to know that he’s awake.” Ethan tapped him on his tiny nose.

The kids had been told that their crafting would begin once lunch was finished, prompting them to start asking as soon as Sylvia’s plate was cleared. They were made to wait until everybody was done, with Ethan the last one eating. He purposefully took smaller and slower bites, earning him theatrical groans from the three eldest.

Damiano took care of tidying up, leaving you and Ethan to get the various crafts prepared. For Cosmo’s pumpkin carving, Ethan laid some sheets from the newspaper onto the floor. The twins were easy to organise, they would be taking their textas to print-outs of pumpkins to be hung up in the windows. You picked out the pots of face-paint that had been purchased for you to help Bowie turn your pregnant belly into a festive pumpkin. You had some old towels on hand for the mess that was certainly coming your way.

He eagerly took one of the paintbrushes that you offered, once you were seated somewhat-comfortably on the floor. Your son turned away from you, uninterested in what you were doing at present. Wobbly steps took him over to where his siblings were gathered, around and on top of the newspaper in anticipation of Ethan bringing the pumpkin over.

“Hey Dada, what’s my star sign?” Cosmo asked, the horoscope section catching his eye.

Once Ethan answered this, the girls wanted to know theirs. This led to Ethan reading out the two horoscopes, which were peppered with words the kids didn’t understand, his explanations slowing the whole process down. Sylvia got bored first, leaving for the table where all of the colouring supplies were set up.

He and Cosmo were still drawing out their ideas on the pumpkin when Damiano came into the room. You were using a marker to create a guide for the painting on your skin while Bowie gave each of the brushes careful check-overs (some of the handles required a taste test). The twins were making the most progress, their markers quickly moving across the pages, their focus secured. Damiano checked that you didn’t need any assistance before stationing himself with the girls.

You wiped the handles of one of the brushes on the towel before dipping it into the orange paint. “Are you ready to paint, baby Bowie?”

He raised his brush into the air. “Pah.”

“Uh-huh.” You said. “You wanna help Mama paint this section, right here in the centre of her belly?”

He had a serious look on his face as he scooted closer to you, apparently ready to concentrate on the craft. You handed your brush to him and he took a long look at the thick orange liquid on the bristles. You feared that he would touch it to his face, or worse, try to eat it.

But he proved his skills, applying the bristles to the taut skin of your tummy. The paint felt slimy on your skin as he worked the brush up-and-down, seeming to understand that this was somewhat similar to when he painted at his baby easel. You were unbothered when some of his brush strokes partially went over your outline of an eye.

“Wow, that looks so good already.” You enthused.

He nodded his head as he accepted from you the alternate brush dipped in paint. “Good.”

He wasn’t the most gentle as he made contact with your skin, applying the paint over on your side. There was a method to how he worked, spreading the orange further across your tummy. There had been many attempts at trying to get him excited over the fact that you were growing a brand new baby in there. It was hard to tell how much he absorbed this information, but what you really cared about was that he was enjoying decorating your large belly.

“Okay, now push with your elbow until the blade of the knife goes all the way in.” Ethan instructed as he held his hand over Cosmo’s on the serrated knife.

Cosmo wore a look of great concentration, his brow furrowed as he sucked on his upper lip. He moved the knife carefully, pushing until more than the pointed tip disappeared into the real pumpkin. Ethan held the vegetable steady with his other hand as Cosmo kept working the knife in.

While colouring with the twins, Damiano had found a doll-sized cowboy hat. It was quite common to come across misplaced pieces of toys around your home, so he didn’t bother to question it. He balanced the tiny hat on the tip of his index finger, absentmindedly keeping it elevated.

This caught Bowie’s eye, taking his attention away from painting. He got to his feet and you had just enough time to take the messy brush off of him before he wandered away. He went directly over to his dad, reaching for his arm.

“Hey, little man.” Damiano enthusiastically greeted him.

“Hat.” Bowie said.

“Oh, is this yours?” Damiano asked, offering the small hat to him. “Are you a cowboy?” Damiano placed the miniature accessory atop Bowie’s head, towards the centre where it could be somewhat steady. Immediately he was giggling, not needing to see his reflection to find this funny. “It looks really terrific on you. It must be your hat because it suits you so well.”

Bowie whipped around to face you, the hat slipping off of his hair in the process. Damiano quickly remedied this, holding Bowie still with a hand on his shoulder until the hat was back in place.

[huntiesworld]

Virtual Talks

Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: Chris catches his girlfriend role playing with his AI Character.

Warning:

Requested?: Nope! 

Author's note: This is my work!! DONT COPY!!! USE OF CHARACTER AI

Y/n: Pink

Chris: Blue

Y/N sat comfortably in the cozy corner of Chris Sturniolo's room, surrounded by shelves of books and memorabilia from his favorite series. It was a space that always made her feel connected to him, even when he wasn't around. Tonight, she had brought her laptop with her, indulging in her secret passion—interacting with an AI she had crafted to emulate Chris's character.

The AI conversation window was open on her screen, filled with lines of dialogue she had meticulously written to capture Chris's humor, intelligence, and unique perspective. She couldn't help but smile as she typed, imagining how Chris would respond in various scenarios she had dreamed up.

"Hey there, beautiful," the AI greeted in a voice that mimicked Chris's warm tone.

Y/N chuckled softly to herself, fingers dancing over the keyboard. "Hey yourself. What's on your mind tonight?"

As the conversation unfolded, Y/N lost herself in the virtual dialogue, reveling in the familiarity of Chris's fictional persona. She didn't notice the soft footsteps approaching from behind until a familiar voice broke through her concentration.

"Hey, what are you doing over there?" Chris asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

Y/N jumped in her seat, heart racing as she quickly minimized the AI interface. She turned to see Chris standing in the doorway, his expression a mix of amusement and intrigue.

"Oh, hi Chris!" Y/N greeted, trying to mask her surprise. "I was just... uh, browsing the internet."

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Browsing the internet in my room?"

Y/N bit her lip nervously, knowing she couldn't keep her secret hobby hidden any longer. With a deep breath, she decided to come clean. She reopened the AI interface, revealing the chat window where her conversations with the AI were saved.

Chris's eyes widened as he read through the dialogue. "Is this... me?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment and vulnerability. "Sort of. It's an AI I created based on your character. I like to... role-play sometimes."

Chris studied the screen intently, his lips twitching with amusement. "Wow, that's... unexpected."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I know it's weird. I just... I enjoy imagining conversations with your character. It helps me feel closer to you when you're not around."

Chris's expression softened, and he stepped closer to her. "Hey, it's okay. I'm actually flattered."

Y/N blinked in surprise, relief washing over her. "You're not mad?"

Chris shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "No way. It's kind of cool, actually. You put a lot of effort into this."

Y/N let out a nervous laugh, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "I'm glad you think so. I was worried you'd think I'm crazy."

Chris sat down beside her, gently taking her hand. "You're not crazy. You're creative and passionate. I admire that about you."

Y/N met his gaze, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Thank you for understanding."

Chris leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Always, Y/N. You can always be yourself with me."

As they sat together in his cozy room, surrounded by the echoes of their shared fandom and Y/N's newfound courage, she realized that her love for Chris extended beyond the fictional world they both adored. He was her real-life hero, accepting her quirks and embracing her passions without hesitation.

And as they talked late into the night, sharing stories and laughter, Y/N knew that their bond was stronger than ever—a testament to the magic of love, both digital and real.

[loz-stormseye]

Goron things

Thank you so much for the support so far! It means a lot ^^

These won't have an image ID but there isnt any information on the images, just on the images themselves.

Anyhow, this is the Storm's eye version of the Goron! They still have the larger bottom lip and small eyes that is in all interpretations of them, but are much more lizard-like, based a little like armadillos. They roll into balls much like them.

Their spikes on their backs are slow-growing, like hair, but can be trimmed for competitive rolling or for aesthetic purposes. Most just leave them jaggedy anyhow, since other Gorons can withstand pointy rocks from other Gorons.

They also have white tusk-like teeth and little flaps under their jaw, just to make rollowing into a ball more securely.

The rocks on the Goron can be any type of rock, but mainly are composite, rather than igneous or sedimentary (or they'd just crumble away). Their main "skin" is scaly, and rough to touch.

Art and culture is displayed through their creations of things, including swords and other tools they use. Swordmaking is a very common profession, with every Goron at least capable of casting a simple sword.

Their long, pangolin like claws help them to delicately craft things, as well as make very intricate details in patterns!

Goron smiles are generally always very gummy, with the gum being a symbol for "unrestrained happiness". When a goron closes his eyes around someone, they are said to be trusted (gorons do not need to blink normally).

Goron elders are few and far between, with facial "hair" being crystals and wrinkles are cracks. (All gorons are capable of this and all Gorons use he/him and refer to each other as "brother", "father" or "uncle"). Some goron try to fill in their wrinkles with building putty to appear younger.

Death due to old age for a goron means becoming a boulder, and potentially becoming a mountain or volcano. Death Mountain was said to be a great Goron who levelled the earth, becoming absorbed by the earth and creating the greatest volcano.

Gorons who die to other causes become petrified, and are placed into their own gravesite, which is a lattice placed on the wall. The frame is adjusted to size of the goron and is attached to the wall of the gravesite by lava.

Goron families come to the wall frequently to pay respects, leaving offerings of rock and carved ornaments to keep the spirits at peace. It is said that on the eve of a blood moon, spirits walk and the dead goron statues move slightly. After a century, Goron spirits dissapate and the statues become covered in moss. Gorons remember but dont believe them.

Some honour their ancestors by using shards of their rock or crystal for new tools, to make art or newer tools. Gorons generally wear stripes and colours in specific patterns depending on the individual they are honouring.

:3

[nelapanela94]

AGGHHH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU FOR THIS!! Congratulations on hitting 1k 🥹 you truly deserve it💜💜💜 your writing never fails to leave me and so many incredibly happy☺️🫂❤️‍🩹 or sad if it's angst hehe but overall everyone enjoys your writing :)

If you want to of course can you please consider prompts 1 and 28? IM SORRY IF THAT SOUNDED RUDE, I DONT KNOW HOW TO ASK THINGS LIKE THISS😭 BUT ONLY IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO OF COURSE

Thank you so much, Jasmine!!! Your words mean a lot to me <3 thank you thank you thank you!!!

WC: ~1k TW: fluff, enemies to lovers, ft. Hange-san. 1. “Are you blushing? Disgusting” 28.“When will you shut up and kiss me?”

With disdain, Levi’s eyes dawdle over you. Reeking of horse shit mingled with sweat, you shoot him a scornful glance, squeezing hard the sponge inside the bucket, counting to ten and refraining from tossing it at his crafted-by-angels face.

“What do you want?” You snap and groan to your feet. Your duties of the day roll down your face in the form of beads, your clothes speckled with patches of soapy water. You flick away a strand of shiny hair of your forehead and turn around; threads of sullied water fall on the muddy ground, your palms burning around the wringing sponge.

“I’m just supervising.” He nonchalantly says as he sweeps a finger on the railing of the barn doors and rubs it against his thumb. He tchs and swipes his gritty finger pads on his handkerchief. “You have to go through this again.”

“If you doubt my job, do it yourself then!”

“Can't. Paperwork.”

Smoke comes out from your ears as you spin on your heels; your gazes collide, your eyes warred a silent argument. His brows are puckered in a scowl, and you wish you could rub those wrinkles away with your thumb.

“Fucking go and leave me alone before smash a ball of horse shit on your face.” You jab a finger to his chest, his eyes flare, and a vein pops on his strained neck. What would it be like to pamper that curve with kisses?

Inwardly you smack your head for your weakness and call to mind why you hate him. Your fury, incandescent, blazes through your veins, swelling the tiny vessels under your cheeks.

He clasps his hand around your wrist, quivering, and a cold tingling creeps through your fingertips. Your trembling gaze scoots from his eyes to your hand back to his eyes; you pull to extricate from his grip, but he is unyielding.

He’s too close, too close, touching you, you’re afraid he might catch the erratic beating of your heart.

“Are you blushing? Disgusting.” He rucks up his face, as if he was touching dung, and hurls your hand away.

You blink twice, flummoxed as anger bubbles within you again. Your fists clench, and every inch of your tense.

Is he really that stupid, or is he only pretending?

“It’s sweltering and I’ve been raking the floor all morning!” You cry and push him off your way. “Asshole, asshole, asshole!” Your steps rumble as you storm out of the stables, tears peppering your eyelashes.

A horse neighs.

Levi’s eyes are hooked on your back until you disappear into the building.

He’s ruined it again, and now he’s certain you hate him.

Why is it so hard? Why does he have to make things so complicated? Why can’t he let things flow?

You sprinkled fairy dust on his heart and now it beats out of tune whenever you come around. And his brain, to protect him, must leash it back in place before he does something stupid. The only way he knows how is by being cold, tactless, and blunt.

He wants you; he’s never craved someone so fervently. He’s filled with a deep longing to coalesce with your skin, to feel your warmth wrapping him, shielding him from any harm. To find comfort in a late-night talk over a cup of tea; to cling to you; to feel your hands talking and manifest deep adoration. But like the tines of a rake, something scrapes and scrapes at his mind. Something that reminds him why he should keep people at an arm’s distance including you.

Especially you.

But if his brain and his heart don’t team up, he’ll lose his marbles.

His shoulders fall, and the thick defenses he has built over the years begin to crack.

“Don’t tell me you were your asshole self.”

An arm slings around his shoulders, and a frown mars his face.

Levi flinches away and folds his arms. “Asshole is a relative term.”

Hange sighs. Then a grin lights their face, eyes concealed behind the glint of their lenses. “How can you be so blind?” They pat his shoulder and trundles off before Levi gets the chance to ask what they’re talking about.

What is it that he cannot see. What is that he is refusing to see.

*

A long bath is what you needed to release the steam of your system, melting him away from your thoughts. But it only takes a few seconds before the pieces of his dry, unflappable face materialize again.

Your lilac tent dress billows around your knees with every spin, and on the mirror, you catch the wink of the golden hoops. You slip on your Adelaide boots, untangle your hair, and dab cocoa butter on your lips.

Levi wasn’t going to shroud your day with gray clouds.

Your door thuds close and with your book under your arm, you saunter to the library building.

“Oi!”

You jerk and stop dead in your tracks. First his face, now his voice-

Too real. The volume, pitch, rhythm, pacing. Each wave and turn.

“Oi, Y/N!”

The volume swerves to the ceiling, and you swivel around. It couldn’t be product of your imagination. “What do you want?” You tilt your head, one eyebrow lifted stressing that question mark.

He stops two feet away from you, and your heart leaps to your throat. He’s too close, too close his energy raptures the wires of your self-control.

“I… uh…” Gulp. He scratches the side of his head, averting his gaze. “Well, I…” Levi is losing it, all his braincells rioting while his heart pounds with frenzy. His face heats all the way to the tip of his ears. You look so beautiful in that dress—he already thought you were pretty in your uniform coated in sweat after a training session. Now you eclipse every star in the sky.

He's reduced to stuttering mess, unable to string more than two syllables together. If only you knew half the thoughts that go through his head when it comes to you, you would have put in for a transfer already. To the Garrison or worse, to the MP.

“That’s why you shouldn’t mix bleach with muriatic acid, it burns your brain cells.” You jab your fingers to the side of your head repeatedly, and then drop your fist. “You’re wasting my time.”

Your mouth moves, shaping vowels, but Levi’s surroundings have fallen into a dead silence. Whatever you're barking, the waves don’t go past his eardrums, and it’s better that way, because by the look in your face, I mustn’t be flattering. His eyes fix on your glossy lips, and he wonders what they would feel like moving against his, what you taste like.

Two steps closer, he grabs you by your shoulders frustrating your escape. His jaw is set tight, teeth grinding; his heart batters out of control, pumping more blood through his system which sets in fire every inch of his body.   

“When will you shut up and kiss me?” he bellows, pulling the reins of your prating.

First a shrill, like a boiling kettle, then his ears sharpen.

He expects a whack on the head with the spine of your book.

But it never comes.

You cock your head to the side, scrunching your face with skepticism, a blush infesting the apples of your cheeks.

“Say that ag—”

His lips collide on yours and the floor rumbles before you’re swept off. Time freezes; the world shrinks. Two blinks. Your eyes snap, then shut tight, and all the tension dwindles, breaking through your skin in the form of goosebumps. Tickles swarm your lower belly; they pour out in an all-consuming energy that obliterates and soothes at the same time. His hands on your face, holding as to never let go.

A weak linger of chocolate. When you kissed him back all worries and pain faded, your lips, softer than anything he’s had before, dance and mold to his as if they were destined to each other. Strawberries in summer; silk against the skin. He just found a new vice. He feels your hands meandering over his chest, shy, hesitant on where to touch, gauging his limits.

He pulls apart, his warm breath brushing your dewy lips. He presses his forehead on yours and slowly opens his eyes, a silly smile tugs at the corners of his lips, like a teenage boy who’d just kissed the girl who steals his thoughts. A tender kiss, a treasured first kiss. The kind of kiss that you don’t want to tell aloud.

The book is crumpled at your feet.

You blink, and Levi scans your every reaction. The flit of your lashes, the ruddiness on your cheeks; your calming breathing. And when you smile and that spark flares in your eyes, it swaddles him, a lulling feeling that everything will be all right.  

Tag List: @stygianoir @lamees004 @svftackerman @apolloshaiku @luvjiro @roralore @mikakayyyy @lovolee3 @notgoodforlife @galactict3a

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[lufifer-morningstar]

iiiiii finished tbosas. i did not like it. it doesnt compare to the book even a little. toms, rachels and literally everyones acting was breathtaking (really, i was blown away by this man and lucky was a disgusting delight). the music was incredible. rachel is an absolute star. however dont get me started on the paceing, the changes (that i didnt really understand) aaaand overall dramatology. modern movie making just changed and tbosas is no exception. the hunger games movies, regardless if you liked them or not, consisted of a story being told, characters to uncover and further and a plot told. tbosas is a movie crafted like every other modern movie: made for an audience who needs a fast paced piece of media to quickly consume. some spectical. and as i am writing this, i am fully aware that this might, to some degree, be the whole point of it. this movie is a prequel to the hunger games after all... the issue here is that this is movie-making in america now, not just this movie because we are supposed to critically explore the hunger games- world. it just didnt stick. something was missing. some moments fell short or didnt affect me at all. when i had to put the book away for three days after reading the marcus-scene or for several hours after sejanus execusion, i simply blinked and it was over. i didnt really have many emotions about it. there are several reasons for this of course... the movie was enjoyable enough. nothing breathtaking, nothing too bad. a solid, SaFE hollywood production. like everything they produce nowadays