#SHES SO FUCKING STUNNING ITS NOT FAIR

[track2hack]

07.03.2024

I AM OBSESSED AND IT’S TERMINAL 😭😭

Photos genuinely don’t do justice to how pretty she is, she looks like she stepped off the front page of the NZH&P show mag 😭

Ran around for barely 30 seconds (Gem was of course doing The Most™️) and then settled down pretty much immediately - only a tiny bit of squealing to start off with, but they were all happy when I left them tonight!

Pixie was the very first to greet Molly and followed her round the paddock like a puppy but once the big girls met she had enough sense to stay away 😅

Will give Molly tomorrow off to decompress and settle in and potentially ride her on Saturday!

[hoseoksluna]

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy. 

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world. 

White wine. 

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks. 

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him. 

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now. 

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight. 

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.” 

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you. 

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too. 

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently. 

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion. 

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy. 

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before. 

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room. 

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.” 

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away. 

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard. 

“Taste it for me first.” 

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too. 

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.” 

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp. 

“More.” 

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?” 

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum. 

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it. 

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good. 

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name. 

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree. 

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain. 

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts. 

“You’re gonna take control of me?” 

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face. 

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.” 

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?” 

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.” 

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way. 

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?” 

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.” 

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?” 

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.” 

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up. 

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession. 

“No, not from her. Please, from you.” 

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger. 

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper. 

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.” 

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants. 

“Boxers, too?” 

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.” 

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp. 

And he lets you. In the name of love. 

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home. 

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him. 

How sweet. 

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?” 

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch. 

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view. 

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain. 

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?” 

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth. 

You knew it. 

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.” 

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him. 

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan. 

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?” 

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you. 

“Vinny.” 

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable. 

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?” 

“Please.” 

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger. 

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether. 

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness. 

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him. 

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.” 

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.” 

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.” 

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is. 

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”  

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?” 

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths. 

Then, Jungkook glares at you. 

“I’m gonna destroy you.” 

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.” 

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his. 

And he proves you right. 

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” 

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid. 

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.” 

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it. 

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does. 

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did. 

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.” 

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?” 

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings. 

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it. 

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him. 

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine. 

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come. 

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?” 

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.” 

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow. 

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again. 

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless. 

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.” 

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?” 

“And your snores.” 

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him. 

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time. 

You shake your head. “I messed up.” 

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock. 

“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.” 

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.” 

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?” 

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?” 

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.” 

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.” 

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks. 

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down. 

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand. 

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets. 

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.” 

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.” 

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back. 

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.” 

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.” 

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering. 

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there. 

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.” 

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?” 

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.” 

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?” 

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole. 

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue. 

“Sit up. Ride my face.” 

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake. 

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take. 

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come. 

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew. 

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him. 

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.” 

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest. 

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.” 

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars. 

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease. 

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.” 

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit. 

And then he gets up. 

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back. 

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you. 

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.” 

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them. 

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth. 

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves. 

“I love you, Ggukie.” 

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips. 

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.” 

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can. 

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart. 

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[thewadapan]

Spent today checking out The Amazing Digital Circus and Murder Drones, and god, the kids today have it so good when it comes to this sort of content. When I was a teen, I was obsessed with Red vs. Blue and RWBY, which I think it's fair to say are the equivalents of the time, and the sheer gulf in terms of writing quality and production value is stunning. I hear there were some rumblings of unprofessional conduct from the production company, which would hardly be surprising considering this is yet another guys-working-from-their-basement success story, but much bigger companies with much shittier business practises consistently put out much worse content than this.

The Amazing Digital Circus is definitely the better show of the two, thanks to its slam-dunk premise and some great writing from Gooseworx. The producers have talked about aiming to fill a perceived gap in the market between kids' cartoons (The Boss Baby) and adult animation (Bojack Horseman), and I think they have successfully threaded the needle to create a very unique tone. There's a sense of these works existing totally outside the mainstream media machine; they're not getting BBFC rated, but you just know millions of kids are watching them. It's on YouTube and the fact that it looks like some Frozen Spider-Man kids' slop just means da parents won't question what their kids are watching.

But truth be told, there's nothing objectionable about the content of The Amazing Digital Circus whatsoever. It's unusually metatextual and loosely apes the aesthetics of much darker media, touching on slightly more existential themes than your typical kids' cartoon, but it still has a lot in common with those same cartoons. The zany characters are all fairly one-note, and the emotional arcs of the episodes are honestly quite straightforward. The second episode in particular has an absolutely textbook plot structure to it. It's a far more self-assured and traditional style of writing than you ever see in this kind of independent work—certainly far more so than Murder Drones, which is written by an insane person.

More than anything, I'm reminded of how I felt watching Puella Magi Madoka Magica: that it's a very solid work of fiction, but that the people who'd get the most out of the work are isolated teens struggling to make the transition into adulthood. Certainly if nothing else, the fandoms of these shows must be bringing a lot of kids together around the world. I adore this soundbite from Goose: "Above anything else, I just wanted it to feel kind of lonely." You see Pomni's worldview shatter, she suddenly finds herself in a body that feels completely wrong, and she has to construct a new kind of belonging for herself.

As for Murder Drones, that show's absolutely fucking nuts, yo. The writing is at once painfully basic and utterly incomprehensible. If someone just sat down and explained the plot straightforwardly, it would be fantastically boring. But man, the presentation, the sheer delight the animators seem to approach every scene with...! I'd say it's clearly trying to use "the characters are robots" as an excuse to expose da kids to some absolutely shocking levels of gore, much like the Transformers movies, but midway through the series it starts straightup swapping the oil and wires for blood and bones and you've got to respect that.

The writing itself is so excruciatingly irony-poisoned that it goes beyond cringe and somehow wraps back around again to being sincerely funny. The show kind of wants to have its cake and eat it in terms of constantly lampshading how flat and cliché the emotional plotting is, but also clearly aiming to genuinely tug at the heartstrings and whip fans into a frenzy. And it kind of succeeds, I think! The way it veers between bizarrely high-effort implementations of memes, seriously cool fight scenes and horror visuals, and big emotional moments is very disarming. If The Amazing Digital Circus is an attempt to faithfully rework the American-cartoon formula for a slightly older audience, Murder Drones aims to crib the aesthetics of high-school cartoons while actively rejecting every traditional narrative technique used in those stories. Which means it's kind of bad, which means it's also kind of great.

If it's not already, then within a couple of years it will be deeply cringe to have ever been into Murder Drones in particular or (to a slightly lesser extent) The Amazing Digital Circus, in much the same way that everyone seems embarrassed to admit they were ever a Homestuck fan. But like with Homestuck, I feel like these series are genuinely pushing at the frontiers of storytelling in a way that's commendable and might inspire new kinds of writing once the fans grow up.

ENA is also pretty good, for the record.

[slingbats]

Hi,i really love how to draw Caped Crusader's Penguin <3

I saw that you said that you struggle with drawing strong jaws on characters but i think that you always do her a justice. She looks absolutely stunning in your art. Also I'm a huge fan of an idea that she has a fully shaved head (I'm not against her balding either lol) so props to you for portraying this

Even if she'll never appear again (both in context of this show and outside of it) it's really refreshing to see a female version of character that isn't a paper thin loving mom.

(ps: nothing wrong with evil loving mothers but its usually perceived as a "default" characteristic for modern female villains,if that makes sense)

Omg I keep opening up and reading this again lkfgjflkgj thank you so much!!

Also yeah, I would've been more blatant abt it but like I said even though I'm sure she's perfectly comfortable with whatever's going on with her real hair I don't think she'd ever let anyone see it so we're gonna have to settle for ruffled wig in my last silly pic ✌

and man I hope we ever see her again it would be so disappointing to only get to see her once, but I guess if we're gonna dedicate a fair amount of time to different characters in the next season then it's fffffiiiiiiine I Guess. I like her

also I totally agree, I think lately it's the idea of "contrasts," kind of... wouldn't it be funny or interesting if very evil characters had one soft trait, you know? Like they have a soft spot for a kind of pet or family Or Something, but I like that she's kind of fucking ruthless, women's wrongs and all that

but it reminded me of this old Hark! A Vagrant panel, so...

[itsmarsss]

Ruin [Marc Spector x fem!Reader] (Moon Knight)

It surely wasn't like him to invite someone over to his place, especially someone he barely even knew. It was dumb and reckless and-

Word count: 840

Warnings: sex is heavily implied and anticipation and sexual tension are through the roof. no real smut tho sorry it’s just a tiny lil’ scene. rare occurrence of me using third person (i dont vibe w it but this is kinda like marc’s pov so)

Marc felt like a hormonal teenager as he tried to unlock the door to the apartment with some fair difficulty, which could be blamed on his eagerness. Or his nervousness. Probably both.

His hand was slightly trembling and for fucks sake, if it weren't the only key Steven carried with him, he would have swore it was the wrong one.

He closed his eyes and inhaled, a stupid attempt to calm himself down.

How pathetic. What an embarrassment.

"Shit, sorry.”

She laughed at his frustration, but not the kind of laugh that silently calls you pathetic. Not a laugh that was aimed at him, Marc, the person, but at the situation.

"Are you sure this is your place?" She questioned, humor obvious in her words.

"Very funny." He finally managed to insert the key right, twisting it and successfully unlocking the door. "See?"

She put her hands up in surrender, and Marc found himself smiling at the action. How cut- pathetic. What the fuck was even going on with him tonight?

It's been a while. That's probably it.

He pushed the doorknob and opened the door to the place, turning the lights on before entering. She followed suit, closing the door behind her.

She stared at him for a bit, trying to think of what to do or say now that they were there. "Um so-“

"Are you nervous?" Marc asked. What he lacked in actual confidence he made up for by faking it.

"What? No I'm not." She was. He could feel it.

"You look nervous."

"I'm not," she insisted.

"Okay." He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Then what is it you wanted to do?"

"Me? Last time I checked you're the one who wanted to bring me home."

"I can think of some things I wanna do."

She bit the inside of her cheek, debating with herself over where to go with this. The answer seemed to be ‘fuck it’. “Show me, then."

A glint of mischief made its way to Marc's eyes. He was enjoying this. Shit, they hadn't even done anything yet.

It surely wasn't like him to invite someone over to his place, especially someone he barely even knew. It was dumb and reckless and-

"So?" She challenged him when he didn't make any advances, too lost in thought.

"Shit," He murmured, suddenly too turned on by her attitude to care. He took his time taking a step forward and making the space between them impossibly small.

She actually grinned at him, a determined look on her features. Now that's just fucking begging him to touch her. And then he was sure he was done for. She didn't move, still leaving it for him to do so. Challenging him to.

And so he did.

Marc leaned forward, tilting his head a bit to the side and grabbing each side of her jaw with his hands, pulling her into such a feral kiss that it left her stunned.

"Wow. Okay," she exclaimed quietly after Marc pulled away for a second, both out of breath.

"That okay?"

"Are you serious?" She asked, because, holy shit, it was more than fucking okay. Before he could say anything in reply, she was pulling him down by the collar of his red button up and kissing him again, with the same eagerness as before.

He smirked into the kiss, content with the reaction he received, her hands still firmly holding a fistful of his shirt while his went to her waist, squeezing slightly.

She released his shirt in favor of running her right hand slowly over his chest.

Marc pulled away again, and she didn't even have time to utter a word before he was grabbing her hand. "Come ‘ere.”

She followed him to the desk in the middle of the place. If she got asked how many books you thought there were on it, she would have probably guessed about a million. That sounded about right.

Marc seemed to be pondering something as he looked at them. 'Aw, Steven will survive.'

With that thought, he didn't waste a single second more before clearing the desk, throwing everything that was on it to the floor in a swift motion.

"You didn't have to do that-" she began telling him, knowing that would be a pain in the ass to organize later.

"But I really wanted to."

"Shit." Shit, indeed.

With that, she let him help her up on the desk, occupying the space the books once did, her legs hanging in the air.

Marc's hands traveled to her thighs, the feeling of it making her shiver. He parted her legs slowly, situating his own body between them.

Things stayed like that for a few moments: Marc's hands heavy on her thighs, her hands on his biceps, eye contact unbroken, hungry looks in their eyes.

Marc made then and there a silent promise to himself to try his best to stay awake. He wanted to be there to see her ruined in the morning.

He failed.

A/N: don’t hate me for how short and uneventful it is it’s the opening scene from a fic im abandoning lol I’ll do some actual smut for them another time

[themthrfkinprincess]

Astro observation . . . TWO!!

Whenever I see someone has a prominent Scorpio or Capricorn placement I always notice and see how sweet and overlay considerate they are. These people I’ve noticed are very helpful and there for people, sometimes they don’t think about themselves that much and contain themselves too much. They also are like nonchalantly funny? It’s not hard for them to make me laugh I’ve noticed.

But yeah strong Capricorn and Scorpio placements remind me of the giving tree idkkk

Like also Capricorn’s and Cancers be goofy as shit im crine😭

WHEW. This is from my experience but when I have seen a fair amount of Virgo or Cancer influences in somebody chart THEY ALWAYS GET ON MY NERVES LIKE GIRL DON'T DO ME LEAVE ME ALONE😭 I swear I have always had little moments with them- they can be quite annoying but guess what. I often spend so much time with them and we are right back on track maybe two seconds later it’s so funny. We switch up so much it funny. And this is funny because well I am a cancer myself and well there are more than three cancers in my family who I adore. You guys are really aggravating though.

And like also Geminis freaky foreal like YALL LIKE BOOTY FOREAL😭

also its a double whammy if you have eros or venus in gemin lol. I have both 😈👅

so come here . . . .

GIVE ME THAT BOOTY😈

lol😭

AND YOOOO Like geminis and Leo’s can be so embarrassing at times? They’re very suspect to be very lollygagging individuals and I can say this because I have a Leo stellium. Sometimes I look back and be like girl no. It sad. ☹️ like girl you 36 how long you gon be doing this😕.

They remind me of this liam dancing gif. Its not that they are embarrassing over big things- its just small stuff they can do and say which makes you go wtf???😭 Sometimes i feel they try to impress you over small weird things that no one really gives a fuck about like okay right . . . right . . .

Leo, Cancer, Gemini, and Virgo can be really corny at times- it reminds of that gif of drake doing the dougie. They can be corny in a cute way though😭but leos can get genuinely embarrassing as a mentioned beforehand

Also Geminis talk too much 🦧.

They will run their mouth and run it- i have no problem with it though I like to talk a lot lol. They are ( of course!) good listeners too! I had a friend she was so chill- I could talk to her about anything’s like- if i wanted to speak gibberish she would speak gibberish back to me. She was so random too. They are kind of silly whimsical beings at times I will not lie. Like it would not be wild to catch them froliciing in the fields randomly- its kind of expected of them in my own opinion. In my eyes they really be in their own world at times. 💀

AYE.

And yo!? Tell me why Aries are so cute what the hell!?!?

LIKE THEY ARE SO CUTE!!

CYUTSIE PATOOTSIES!!!! I imagine them trying to rob me at a gas station I own or something. Like I don’t know imagine them pointing a gun at you and trying to rob you LMFAO. I WILL BURST OUT LAUGHING. They might shoot you tho idk😞 they really be standing on business and they intimidate me a lot once they start talking- and they could be totally be happy/polite while they are talking. It’s just their aura feels forceful? Lively? Out there? I don’t know how to explain it but yeah. Also they are so sweet too!!! These people are cheerleaders- people say that Leo’s are cheerleaders but the biggest cheerleaders I see are more often Aries. My cousin is one and she is very VERY sweet. She listens to you deeply and she really pushes you. Sometimes it’s annoying at times cause like GIRL LEAVE ME ALONE I DON'T FEEL LIKE IT 😭 I love aries though 💖😭 You guys are so cute. AND WHY THEY ALWAYS LOOK LIKE CARTOON CHARACTERS 😭

LIKE WHY HE LOOK LIKE RODDY😭

And of course we know Pedro looks like chicken little

Also Aries women are GORG!! No seriously! Look at Halle!!! Miss Mamas is GORG!! She is STUNNING! It’s like 💥WAPOW!!!💥 getting struck and hit by her beauty😍💖

Also David tennant so cute he's sort of like kind of my man😍😍 if you have a crush on him your so real I totally get it fren 😋💗🤭😁

Like dude come on he's so freaking cute. His eyes are so intense it makes him look like a crackhead sometimes but it doesn't even matter HE'S SO CUTE. And his Scottish accent is so 🫦🫦🫦 I don't know what he be saying sometimes though in his TV shows like huh🗿

Cancer Mars are literally the Scarlet Witch idk dude. . . . like people can go completely BONKERS. These hoes kind of crazy. If you been wronging one for quite a while you better sleep with one eye open when you sleeping👀

Like these people are kind of punks☹️. They retreat often when something is wrong- too much actually. They really do not want to fight or have any problems foreal. They can be very indirect at times when bothered it can get annoying. But when enough is enough its over💀 its like one fart and your dead💀

Like that Aries and Cancer energy is not mixing well and shit can get REAL unstable there like don't do them patna!!

Uhm i totally had a million more things to say and I really did not get to re-read this. So there may be many typos- and also im kind of lazy and wish i decorated this post better. But that's besides the point- I hope you liked this post or whatever!!! I was totally honestly rambing to myself, if you found these accurate to you then great!

Peace out!!!💖💗

[axelsagewrites]

Daemon Targaryen*Gala

Sugar Baby Series Part 5 finale

Part one - Part two - Part Three - Part 4.5 - Part Four

Pairings: Daemon x f!reader

Summary: The reader finally has to face the whole Targaryen family at their gala and Otto is far from happy

Warnings: drinking, drunk Rhaneys, Drunk Otto, grabbing, threats, brief fight but nothing graphic

Word count: 5655 (i kno but its the finale i had to)

Masterlist Here

“She’s fucking your uncle for money bro,” Cregan’s words made Aemond’s eye go wide. Aemond sat stunned, looking between you, Cregan, and Jace who just shrugged. “And she’s going to your family reunion so if you could refrain from knives- “

“Cregan!” Sara hush whispered, jabbing her brother with her elbow.

Aemond paused for a moment before turning to look at you, “Are you really Daemon’s sugar baby?” He asked, the words sounding like sick in his mouth.

You gave an awkward smile, glancing at Jace for reassurance, “Kinda yeah, I mean yes I am,” you stuttered out, eyes falling to the floor.

You heard Aemond’s sigh and looked up to see him relaxing back into the booth, “Well then. Make sure he pays you double for the gala,” Aemond said before swallowing his drink in one go, “And bring a flask,”

Aemond wasn’t exactly comfortable with the fact his uncle was paying his friend for their company, struggling to believe sex wasn’t a part of the deal, but with a couple drinks he soon came around. The next morning all five of you woke up spread across Jace and Cregan’s flat. Jace and Sara somehow managed to stumble to his bedroom while Cregan lay in the bathroom, head hanging over the toilet as he slept.

You meanwhile woke up on the couch with a pounding headache and no clue how you got here.  The one thing you knew for sure was that the bacon smell was not Cregan’s doing and didn’t smell burnt so it couldn’t have been Jace. When you stumbled through to the kitchen you tried to conceal your surprise when you saw a fresh face Aemond cooking up a professional level breakfast.

“Dude, you drank more than me,” you mumbled as you took a seat at the kitchen table.

Aemond scoffed but you saw the smile at the edge of his lips as he handed you a plate of eggs and bacon, “Not my fault you all cant handle a few rounds,”

“You made us do tequila shots. 3 fucking shots,” you reminded him as you dug into the breakfast.

You looked up when Jace walked in clutching his head and heading for a glass of water for his Advil. “To be fair the first shots were Sara’s fault. I think she ands Cregan are dead in the bathroom,” he said, gulping down the water as if he was in the Sahara desert. Jace paused for a moment, looking up at his uncle then back to the bacon, “I knew I always liked you,”

Aemond scoffed yet again before handing Jace a plate and the two boys joined you at the table. Meanwhile you replied to daemons texts asking if you had made it home safe last night. “Texting Daemon?” Jace asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“I’m eating,” Aemond groaned in disgust as you finished off your text with a smirk before sitting the phone down. “Now onto more pressing issues,” even Jace looked confused at Aemond’s sudden seriousness, “We have to train you. For the gala,” Aemond rolled his eyes at yours and Jaces loud groans and protests, “Trust me, you want my help,”

“Why?” You groaned, desperate to just enjoy the greasy food that somehow was making this hang over bearable. “How hard can it be to wear a dress and smile?” The look Jace and Aemond shared made a pit grow in your stomach.  “That is what Galas are right?”

Jace sat down his fork, glancing at Aemond before looking back at you, “Maybe you do need our help,”

Being hung over was bad enough but being hungover and going through Aemond Targaryen’s Class and Etiquette masterclass made you never wanna drink again. You did everything from learn which fork to yet with, how to shake hands, who to approach and what to say, who liked who and most importantly who hated who.

“And remember no matter what,” Aemond said as you walked up and down the living room with a book on your head, “Never be left alone with my mother. Fake a heart attack if you have to,”

“Is she the one who made you learn all this crap?” You asked as sara sniggered at your pathetic attempts to balance the book on your head.

“She was worse,” Aemond chuckled, “Way worse actually one time she made Aegon walk barefooted in the snow- “Aemond paused when he saw you stop walking and Jace and Sara staring at him like someone had shot him, “Never mind, just trust me. Avoid her,”

“Noted,” you said sceptically as you continued your newly learned prissy walk, “Do you think she’ll recognise me?”

Jace and Aemond shared a concerned look before Aemond cleared his throat, “She um remembers you yeah,” he didn’t go on till you death glared him, “She kinda well she wouldn’t let my dad say his order to you at the restaurant cause she thought you looked like a well,” he paused until the silence was more awkward than him just spitting it out, “A gold digger?”

Sara cackled while Jace face palmed while you stood open mouth and shocked. “I’m not-well I know it could seem- she-I’m not a gold digger!” You finally spat out. “Am I a gold digger?” You asked, looking between all your friends.

“The politically correct term is sugar baby,” Sara chirped, her hangover sadly gone.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, realising the horrible truth, “What if she finds out?!”

Aemond sat up, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared you down, “She cannot find out,” he said sternly, “Don’t worry. We’ll cover for you. We will survive this,” he said, somehow making it sound more like a war than it already was.

When you finally managed to escape Aemond’s class you only had time to run home, change, and head right back out to meet Daemon for lunch. Daemon was already sat at the table when you walked in, standing up he saw you, “You look stunning doll,” Daemon said, kissing your cheek before pulling out your chair, “Hungover?” He questioned with a slight smirk as he took his own chair.

You chuckled a bit as you glanced over the menu, “Nah I’m fine now. Your nephew helped with that,” you said as the waiter approached, and you both ordered.

After ordering daemon looked back at you, “Which nephew love? Should I be concerned?”

You snorted a little at his comment, “Jealous?” You asked before shaking your head, “Well Jace was there but it was mostly Aemond,”

“Aemond,” Daemon said, eyes wandering to the side as he thought, “Is that the eyepatch one or the syphilis one?”

“Aegon had syphilis?” You asked shocked, leaning forward wide eyed, “But yes Aemond has an eyepatch,”

“So why were you having a family reunion without me doll?” He asked. As you explained the rigorous etiquette you had just been taught the waiter brought the food over and Daemon hung off your every word. As you finished your story, finally able to dive into the amazing looking food, daemon nodded silently, “So he warned you about the gala?”

“He made it sound worse than world war three,”

Daemon chuckled at your description as he mulled it over, “That’s the Aemond I remember alright. You’ll be fine doll just stick to my side or my nephews if I get pulled away by someone but if you see my alone with a Baratheon for more than five minutes you’re obligated to swoop in and save me,”

“Mr Targaryen your doctors on the phone you’re having a heart attack right now,” you said, putting on your best posh accent making Daemon snigger. “There is something I need to ask though,” you said as you pushed the food around your plate with your fork.

Daemon raised an eyebrow as you avoided his gaze, “Everything okay love?”

“Yeah, it’s just um,” you said before finally looking up, “How am I supposed to say I know you? Aemond got worried about people finding out and yeah what’s like the plan?” You asked.

Daemon paused for a moment, sipping on his coffee before nodding, “Well I rsvp’d for a plus one so you’re my date and if anyone keeps prying i’ll tell them to fuck off,” you couldn’t help but laugh at his attitude but part of you knew it would not take much to push daemon into doing exactly that, “If anyone asks we’ll just say I met you at your work and we hit it off. Assuming you’re okay with pretending to be my girlfriend,”

You knew the idea of being Daemons girlfriend wasn’t supposed to fill your stomach with butterflies or make you want to lean over and kiss him. You were his sugar baby, someone he paid to like him, but you couldn’t help the feeling. “I suppose I can make it work,” you said with a shy smile before taking a drink to try concealing your fluster.

It didn’t go unnoticed however and daemon smiled quietly to himself as he watched your antics. Gods, he thought to himself, is it wrong he didn’t want it to be pretend? He kept his thoughts to himself as lunch continued.

“So where should I ask the driver to drop you off today?” Daemon asked as he helped you put your coat on to leave.

“I was kinda hoping I could stay at yours again tonight? I’ve gotta go in to work early tomorrow and your place is closer,” you said as you took Daemons hand without second thought as you began to walk out the restaurant.

Daemon laughed as he took your hand in his, his thumb stroking over your skin as it always did, “Of course doll. Though you don’t need the excuses love,” he smirked when he saw your head dip, a faint blush spreading over your face as he helped you into the car.

With every passing day you got slightly more nervous about the Gala on Friday. The whole of the Targaryen corporation got a half day because of the event but luckily you didn’t work Fridays so could spend the whole day worrying. Daemon unfortunately had to go into the office to sort some last-minute Gala financing out but said you were welcome to get ready at his house and even agreed to let Jace and Aemond over as well.

Jace and Aemond weren’t shocked by the extravagant house in the slightest, but Sara walked in, and her jaw hit the ground. “What the hell?” She gasped as she walked in, having decided she was more than welcome to come as well to do your makeup. “Why can’t I get a sugar daddy?”

“Hey!” Jace protested, his arm defensively going over her shoulder, “Give me a few years alright im still in uni,”

Sara scoffed as she pushed Jaces arm off to explore the house. Now it was time for business, “Where’s your dress?” Aemond asked, forgetting to say hello as he searched his uncle’s house.

You unzipped the dress bag revealing the dark purple satin evening dress that Daemon had made to your exact size. “Ta da,” you said, turning the dress to show the group.

“That’ll do,” Aemond said, nodding his head approvingly as he took the dress out the bag, “Now for makeup- “

“i’ve got that bit covered Aem’s,” Sara said as she flung her arm over Aemond’s shoulder, pinching his cheek. The two had grown a love hate relationship since Aemond took time off where Sara was her usual bubbly self and Aemond pretended to hate it. “Oh my god I forgot how gorgeous this dress is,” she gushed as she reached for the dress, “Hey!” Sara protested as Aemond snatched it away.

Aemond rolled his eyes as he slipped it back in the protective bag, “Not a chance. I don’t know where your hands have been. Now let’s get this show on the road,”

“Princess diaries style,” Jace grinned causing everyone to look at him, head tilted, “Sara made me watch it,” he mumbled.

“Bitch please you made me watch it,” Sara said before grabbing your shoulders and leading you to sit down, “Now let me at this face. I have work to do,”

Daemon had given you his credit card to get everything you needed for the Gala; makeup, shoes, jewellery, whatever you needed to complete the look. Sara took great pride in picking out the makeup with you and now began to slather it on your face with Aemond watching over her shoulder to keep it tasteful. You were thankful Jace was there to mediate.

She ended up giving you a soft purple eye look with a little bit of smoke and glitter, a more natural face and just gloss for lips. “Perfect,”

“Hot,”

“Looking good babes,” Jace cheered from the other end of the couch from where he was playing wordle on his phone.

Sara stood up with a gleeful smile, “My work here is done,” she said, clasping her hands together. You didn’t even question how Aemond knew how to do hair as he began to curl and pin it in place.

Jace and Aemond eventually went to get in their tuxes themselves and now all you had to do was get dressed. As you were heading upstairs for Sara to help you into the dress you heard Daemon getting home. “I’m home doll,” his voice called out across the entrance.

“Omg he calls you doll?” Sara whispered, grabbing your arm tightly.

“I’m just getting changed Daemon. Jace and Aemond are downstairs,” you called back as Sara dragged you to the bedroom, squealing at the sight.

The dress fit like a glove and the material was so soft it felt like ice water on a hot day. Sara made sure your hair was sitting perfect, shoes and jewellery was on, and makeup was perfect before you walked down. She was determined to give you your ‘teen movie’ moment as she called it.

When you walked down the stairs, seeing Daemon sitting on the couch with Jace and Aemond waiting for you, you almost felt nervous for some reason. At that exact moment that you contemplated turning back Daemons head turned to face you. You watched as his jaw went slack, his eyes scanning up your body as he stood from the couch.

He walked from the couch to the stairs silently, meeting you at the bottom and taking your hand softly into his, “Beautiful,” he murmured before holding your hand up and making you give him a slow spin, “Absolutely gorgeous love,” he said, pulling you in for a brief kiss while Sara awed and Jace gagged.

“Thanks doll,” you said, rolling your eyes to disguise you blush, “Are you gonna get ready?”

“Give me five minutes doll. Just gotta change,” he said as he finally let you go, moving past you to head up the stairs before pausing, “Sara, right?” He asked, taking her hand to shake softly.

“Yeah,” she said, her eyes wide as Daemon almost smirked before walking up the stairs. “Wow,” she mouthed to you as she walked down the stairs.

“Babe!” Jace whined at his girlfriend’s actions. The teasing and bantering didn’t stop until you saw Daemon reappearing at the top of the staircase. Unlike Jace who chose a plain black tuxedo and Aemond’s white one Daemon had opted for a dark purple tux to match yours with a lavender shirt underneath. Jaw dropping was an understatement. “You clean up nice,” you grinned, moving to stand beside daemon.

“Thank you love,” he said, his arm moving to wrap around yours before kissing the top of your head. Daemon smiled at you for a moment before turning to the nephews, “Called the cars. One to drop you home,” he said pointing to sara who looked like she may swoon at any second. Lucky for her Jace decided to spare her the war that was the Targaryen gala. “One for you both,” he nodded towards the boys before turning to you with a light smile, “Then one for us,”

You could melt under his gaze despite Jaces ews and Aemond’s eyerolls. For a moment you weren’t even worried about the gala. You just wanted to enjoy the moment as you all shared a glass of wine before the cars came. Sara was practically bouncing as she got into the car, hers being the first to show. Daemon sent Jace and Aemond in the next one, wanting to savour the last few moments alone with you. “Promise you won’t hate me if I show myself up tonight?” You joked as Aemond and Jace left.

“Nothing could make me hate you doll,” Daemon said, kissing your lips softly before pausing, “I got you something,” he finally said as he pulled a small box out of his pocket.

You gasped when he opened the box to reveal the most beautiful ring you had ever seen, “This is too much,” you said as you studied the ring.

“I could give you the world and it still wouldn’t be enough,” Daemon said as he took the ring out of the box, slipping onto your finger as he kept his eyes on yours. You couldn’t look away from those lilac eyes, even when the car honked outside you didn’t want to walk away. “c’mon love we’ll be late,” Daemon said softly as he took your hand in his.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing your purse and readying yourself. “Let’s do this,”

Despite all the prep you hadn’t expected all the flashing cameras or the lilac carpet, something you wondered if Daemon had suggested as you stood beside your date to pose for the cameras. Daemon work his signature sexy smirk as his arm slinked around your waist, resting on your hip, before you were ushered off the carpet to finally get inside of the gala.

Inside was thankfully less hectic but there was still a lot of hustle and bustle as people waited for the gala to usher them in. Servers passed out strange hors d'oeuvre you’d never heard the name of and, thankfully for you, champagne and wine. You gladly accepted a glass, almost drinking it in one go to steady your nerves. Daemons arm was locked protectively around you the whole time.

You glanced over to where Aemond looked like he was being sharply questioned by his mother, Jace standing a few feet away trying not to laugh. He gave you a slight nod when he noticed you looking. At least there were some friendly faces you supposed.

When the doors were finally opened you were ushered into a large hall with circle tables covered in red table clothes. Daemon guided you through the mess of tables and people to your seat. Apparently, the table assignments had been a lengthy process that he and his brother studied together while organising the affair. You were sat at a table with Daemon on one side and Jace on the other.

You smiled as Jace sat down and did your best to act natural when Rhaenyra, Lucerys, and Harwin strong arrived at the table. As they took their seats Jace began to whisper to you how his aunt tried to have Harwin banned from the affair but once they found out they were engaged nothing could be done.

“Who’s your friend sweetie?” Rhaenyra asked as she scooted her chair in before looking up and tilting her head, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“She’s friends with Sara mum,” Jace said, blushing at the mention of his girlfriend which only made Luke start to make fun of his older brother.

Rhaenyra scolded Luke but before anything else could be said a loud microphone static rang across the room. “Is it on now?” Viserys voice was supposed to be a whisper but you and Jace sniggered as it rang across the room. “Okay good, good. Well, I would like to welcome…” Daemon had warned you about his brothers’ lengthy speeches at these things however you tried to listen but all you really heard was fundraiser, food, champagne, and eat. And eat you would.

You almost moaned as you bit into the food, something Daemon couldn’t help but chuckle at. Even though part of you knew Rhaenyra had recognised you, you were grateful for her discretion. The whole meal was surprisingly painless, even enjoyable, as Rhaenyra told you embarrassing stories about Jace, and daemon and daemon finally seemed to let loose around his family. During dinner they began to pace out donation slips for everyone to fill out. When you tried to peak at Daemons donation slip, he quickly pulled it away with a grin, telling you not to be so nosey.

When the dinner was over you were all ushered to the bar while they rearranged the tables, but you didn’t complain when you learned it was an open bar. You were stood beside Jace at the bar sipping your drink, your buzz already going, as daemon wandered off with Rhaenyra to talk to a client.

Jace waved at someone behind you and when you turned you felt your stomach churn. “Hi grampa, granny,” Jace said as he gave Rhaenys a hug and Coryls a firm handshake with a pointed but goofy look.

“Your grips improving son and look who it is,” he said turning to you, his arms opening, “Jace I see you’ve stolen my best employee,”

You blushed as you tried to avoid Rhaenys confused look, “Uh no she’s just my friend grampa. My girlfriend couldn’t make it,” Jace explained, “She’s uncle daemons date,”

Coryls let out a loud chuckle at that one, “Oh Daemon what’s he like,” Coryls said shaking his head, “I’d say you better make him happy but im sure you do sweetheart,” he tried to joke when his wife exclaimed.

“I know you!” She said, almost staggering as she pointed at you, “You used to work for me, at the Den. Oh sweetie how have you been?” She gushed, throwing her arms around you. You gave your boss a wide eyed look as he attempted to pry his drunk wife from you, “You know I know I should say this but,” she said, looking around as if someone was spying on her, “I’m so glad someone finally yelled at that awful witch,” she whispered in the loud way all drunk people do.

“Sorry bout that,” you said but you couldn’t help but laugh at her state as Coryls pulled him back to his side.

“No don’t be,” she said, holding your arms, “I would’ve done it years ago but someone,” she said giving her husband a dirty look, “said I wasn’t allowed,”

“Okay sweetie,” Coryls said as he brought Rhaenys properly into his grip, “Lets go find you some hors d’oeuvre, okay? Sorry about this,” he said turning back to you.

“I don’t know what you’re on about boss,” you grinned.

“That a girl,” he said before steering his wife off in search for food to sober her up.

You turned back to Jace, wide eyed as he sniggered at the interaction. “Well, that was fun,” before you could do anything else everyone began to shuffle back into the hall which had now pushed all the tables around the edges to create more of a dance floor. Viserys gave yet another speech before the music began.

While it wasn’t the music you and Jace would usually dance to he still insisted on dragging you out onto the floor. You and Jace were easily the youngest pair dancing. Aemond had taught you many of the dances he had been forced to learn in childhood, so it was surprisingly painless as you danced the Dornish Waltz.

As you danced however you could feel daemons eyes on you and when you looked you couldn’t help but smile at the way he watched you. However, there were another pair of eyes on you as you danced, and those ones were less forgiving.

When the dance ended daemon gave a slow clap as he approached you, taking your hand into his, “i’ve got her from here,” Daemon said, nodding for Jace to leave as another song began. The next song was dance of the dragons and it was easily your favourite one you had learned despite you being out of breath by the end, “You did perfect doll,” Daemon praised, giving you a brief kiss. However that much of a kiss seemed to be considered PDA by the way people looked at you.

For the rest of the night, you went between talking to and dancing with Jace, Daemon, and even Aemond who reluctantly gave you a dance. Aegon had asked for one, but Aemond had unceremoniously told him to fuck off making him retreat like a kicked puppy. Aemond also made sure to introduce you to a very sweet but very shy Heleana. You could feel ottos and Alicent’s death stares on you, especially when you danced with either of her children, but it was too busy for her to do anything about.

After much dancing and even more drinking, you found yourself sweaty and out of breath at the side of the dance floor. Daemon was off talking with Coryls while you hung out with Aemond when a girl, a very cute girl you mentally noted, approached Aemond with a warm hug that made his pale cheeks tinge red. Apparently it was one of his sisters’ friends she went to boarding school with. When Aly asked Aemond for a dance you practically answered yes for him, pushing him to show off his moves.

You meanwhile were buzzed, alone, and far too warm so you decided to step out for a few moments for some fresh air. Luckily for you just outside the door to the banquet hall was a balcony over facing the city that some people used to smoke but you used for some cool crisp air. The two men who were on there smoking left not long after you walked out leaving you alone to enjoy the noise of the city.

That was until you heard the glass door to the balcony open again. “I wondered if it was really you,” Ottos cold voice made you spin round on your heels leaving you face to face with the man who tormented you at the restaurant for months with his petty orders, “Im shocked you’re brave enough to show your face,”

“I should be going,” you muttered, trying to move past him but Otto blocked the door making you sigh, “Look I’m sorry about before but can I just get past- “

“You really think sorry will cut it? After you embarrassed me in front of my daughter,” he said, taking a few steps closer making you back up. All you could do was hope someone would walk past or to sneak past, but each move you made he copied, “Then now this. You show up to my family’s fundraiser uninvited looking like a tart,”

“I’m here with Daemon,” you practically spat out the words as you tried to push past. “He’ll be looking for me,”

Otto rolled his eyes, “Please that mans always drunk off his arse. Don’t act like I don’t know what you are,”

Your eyes narrowed at the man, stepping closer to him, “And what’s that?” You asked, smelling the whisky reeking from his breath.

“Just some whore,” before you could think you felt his cheek against your palm as a loud slap rang through the air. Your eyes widened, realising what you’d done as Otto roughly grabbed your wrist, “Don’t think we all can’t tell,”

“Father,” you heard the harsh whisper of Alicent’s voice before you saw her snake through the door, closing it quietly behind her, “What are you doing?” She hissed.

“Don’t you recognise her?” Otto asked, finally letting your wrist go and shoving you away.

Alicent tried to pull her father to the side, but he kept pushing her off, “Dad we’re in public,” she tried to reason with him as he continued his tyred.

As the two struggled you tried to rush away but as you reached for the door handle you saw daemon storming over to the balcony. “Why are you defending that gold digger?” Otto said as Daemon opened the door.

“What did you call her?” Daemon practically growled at Otto who finally moved on from Alicent to Daemon. You glanced over at Alicent, her face briefly contorted into some kind of sadness before she covered it again with a hard-line smile. “Go on say it again Hightower,” Daemon spat as he pushed at Ottos shoulders.

“She,” Otto said, pointing past Daemon, his finger wagging straight at you, “Is a gold digging whore,” he said the words slowly as if he was talking to a child, “And you-“ he said jabbing a finger into daemons chest, “are embarrassing the company by parading around some prostitute,”

Before you or Alicent could do anything, a loud cracking sound came from Ottos face as Daemons fist crashed down on the drunk. Otto stumbled back and part of you wondered whether Daemon was about to throw him from the balcony. Thankfully the doors were thrown open yet again but this time by the eldest Targaryen and two security men.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Viserys yelled, as much as an old man can, as you and Alicent backed into a corner, Alicent putting herself in front of you and for a moment you wondered if she cared. “Care to explain Daemon?” He said gesturing at his brother like a mad man.

“He was calling my date a prostitute,” Daemon said, his voice low and eerily calm. As he spoke you thought of a plan, silently but quickly switching the ring daemon had given you earlier from your right middle finger to your left ring finger.

Viserys paused for a moment, looking between you and Otto, “Brother you can’t understand how one might think- “

“I’m not a prostitute!” You said, finally speaking up for yourself and pushing past Alicent. “Or a gold digger or anything else,” you said as you put on your best indignant voice as you moved to stand by daemon, taking his right hand in your left, squeezing it quickly. Daemon glanced down, pausing for a moment when he saw the ring had switched.

Viserys paused, stammering for words, as a security guard checked out Otto and another tried to comfort Alicent, but she just pushed him off. Finally, Daemon looked up, raising your hand in his so that Viserys could see the ring, “She’s my fiancé you twat,” his spitting like venom but still the word fiancé sounded so nice off his tongue. “I was going to announce it tonight, but Hightower over here cornered her on a balcony to call her a slut,”

Otto tried to stutter for an answer but finally Viserys piped up, “She’s your-how long have you even known her, Daemon?”

“Two years,” he lied.

Before Viserys could keep questioning you continued the lie, “He came into the café I worked at before the Dragons Den and asked for my number,”

“We’ve been dating since,” Daemon said, expertly bouncing off your own lies. “I proposed last week and thought id share the good news with my brother but apparently not,” Daemon said, his face screwing up and for a moment you thought he should take up a career in acting.

“That’s the ring he proposed with?” Alicent asked indignantly, smelling a lie but unable to prove it.

You rolled your eyes before answering, “This is a temporary one, the real ones at the jewellers,”

“I bought the wrong size Alicent, hardly worth your father threatening my fiancé,” Daemon said as his arm linked around your waist.

Viserys sighed as he got in between his brother and wife, holding his hands up for peace, “Okay okay enough. Daemon I’m sorry we didn’t know. Otto- “Otto tried to pipe up, but Viserys raised a hand to silence him, “Is deeply sorry. Aren’t you otto?” Viserys shot him a nasty glare till otto reluctantly nodded. “And I’m sorry (Y/N),” Viserys said turning to look at you finally while you did your best to seem like you were bursting from excitement from getting away with the lie.

“I think its best if we leave,” Daemon said, holding his head high, “I trust you will deal with Otto on Monday considering this is a company event,” he said with a pointed look to his older brother.

“Yes of course,” Viserys said as he walked you and Daemon inside, leading down to the exit, “And I am happy for you brother. You two make quite the pair,”

Daemons eyes fell on you as he smirked, “I agree,” he said before bidding his brother goodbye. You tried to be nice with Viserys who looked exhausted from the whole interaction.

As Daemon reached into his pocket for his phone to call a car you stopped him, “Lets just walk,” you told him. Daemon squinted at you for a moment before finally nodding in agreement, taking you by the arm, “I know a 24/7 dinner we can try. It doesn’t have the same level of caviar,” you said in your best posh voice making daemon chuckle as you walked into the cool evening air, “but its good food,”

“Whatever you want love,” daemon said, kissing the top of your head as you walked.

As you walked you thought for a moment, your mind going back to the ring, “Daemon?” You said and he hummed in response, “If you wanted to propose, for real, I wouldn’t be totally opposed,”

Daemon glanced down at you, a smile playing on his lips, “I wouldn’t mind if you said yes,” he said before his eyes flickered away. His arm tightened around your waist, grinning as he did, “i’ll order the flower petals,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila @delicious-xx @pet1t3 @skyesayshi @urmomsgirlfriend1 @dark-night-sky-99 @lantsovheiress@themotherofblood @avalyaaa @simbaaas-stuff @lunampacheco

[rockingrobin69]

Peppers, please

(Also on AO3, 1.6k)

“I’ve been informed,” Harry Potter burst through the door with his habitual earth-quake of a shout, “that you don’t even like peppers!”

“Good morning,” Draco said dryly. Harry Potter glared.

With a sigh, Draco retreated to the kitchen to fetch the biscuits from the cupboard.

Around his third one, an insistent crumb hanging to his upper lip with all its tiny might: “Peppers, Malfoy!”

“Pardon?”

“Peppers!”

Draco blinked. “If you’ll be so kind as to tell me what on earth you’re on about.”

“Pansy said you hate them!”

He looked absolutely outraged. Draco sipped his long-cold tea.

“Do I?”

“She said you’re allergic!”

“Am I?”

“Stop—fucking with me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” But the corner of his lips was twitching. “I’m not allergic. I was simply a horribly dramatic child and she still naïve back when we were, what, six. Seven. I’m fine with peppers now.”

Harry Potter pouted, terribly chipmunk-ish, and even put the biscuit pack down. Down to business. “I cooked the—bloody hell, Malfoy, just, honestly. Why wouldn’t you say? That you hate peppers. I would’ve made something else. I would have happily—why?”

Utterly bemused, “I am. Honest, I mean. I don’t mind peppers anymore.”

“That’s a fucking lie and we both know it.”

Grasping at straws and failing, at least managing to stop the wobble of his stupid mouth, the automatic turning downwards. Went for his cup instead. The tea was ice-cold and flavourless and Draco poured it down his throat like it could cure him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he then said, venomous, and turned his eyes back to the wall, where they refused to stay. It was always like this when Harry Potter barged into his flat. Even the water stains on the ceiling lost their usual allure and could not hold his attention. “If it’s raining, cast a bloody Impervious. Or take an umbrella.”

Harry Potter took a deep breath instead, sounding awfully, weirdly small. Some of the tension bled out of him in increments, his shoulders first, then the fists unclenching, then his belly un-hardening. His jaw was last. Draco was helplessly mesmerised by the transformation.

“You’re impossible,” his voice finally not straining, his fingers not twitching towards the biscuits. No longer needing the obvious distraction. “Next time, if I make something you dislike, you have to tell me.”

“An order,” Draco huffed. “How sweet.”

Harry Potter could blush all the way to the roots of his hair. It was such a stunning, breath-stealing thing to witness.

“It’s not a… fuck you, Malfoy.��

“Hmm.”

They sat there in strangely amicable silence. The oven still gave that choking, desperate cough every ten seconds, and it set a nice framework for their breathing, for the non-fidgeting. Harry Potter was always fidgety, but not when he sat in Draco’s kitchen like this.

“What’s your schedule? For today. Nev said you’re doing overtime again.” Leaning back, giving Draco that look all his friends liked to wear, the one on the border of a telling-off. It didn’t usually work on him, but Harry Potter had a slight edge to his disappointment that made Draco’s skin crawl.

“Not—exactly. Shouldn’t be so late. I’ll be home for bedtime, Mother, I promise.”

Even his mother didn’t glare like that. “Third time this week? I kind of want to strangle your boss.”

“Ha. Violence is usually frowned upon in the workplace.”

He didn’t smile, but he came near it. Draco could tell, because the corners of his eyes were dancing. “Does it count if it isn’t my workplace?”

“Mm. Fair enough. Strangle away.”  

Now he was smiling. “When d’you start? Want a ride?”

And Draco was so grateful he didn’t launch yet another tirade about how Draco should quit his awful job that he said, “Why not.” (Only because he was distracted and rather tired, and not because sitting behind Harry Potter on his motorbike was in itself half-punishment, and not because clinging to his waist on tight turns at far-too-quick was—anything at all). On the downside, it made Harry Potter practically beam, and Draco still needed his eyes.

“Great! I mean. That’s good. That you won’t be late. Bad for your, er, record, and stuff, and you might not get a—bonus or something.”

They didn’t do bonuses at McMillan & McMillan, but that was neither here nor there. Draco nodded, pushed himself up on not so flimsy legs, collected his coat from where it was crumpled on the back of a chair.

“What about lunch?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t take. Any lunch.”

Why was he so obsessed with food? It was dangerously endearing. “I have an apple in my bag. Come now, you promised I won’t be late.”

“An—” Harry Potter shook his head, loosening even more curls out of his bun. They were rain-flat and miserable and still entirely too sweet. “I’ll buy you a sandwich at that poor excuse for a cafeteria you got in that building. And so help me god, Malfoy, you’ll eat it, or—”

“All right,” both hands up, “no need to shout. Your wish is my command, etcetera.”

He pouted so hard it was almost comical. But there was something still wounded there, so Draco added, “As long as there’s peppers, you know,” and then he was fuming again, bouncing on the balls of his feet and ready to deliver yet-another lecture. Draco watched him, amused, and forgot to lock the door behind him, and forgot his scarf.

Did remember his umbrella, which he Leviosa-ed to follow the Death Machine, stuck it against the back of the silly jacket when they reached the office. It wasn’t raining anymore, thankfully allowing Draco to arrive not wet-dog for a change, and it made absolutely no difference.

Harry Potter took off his helmet to watch Draco enter the building. Didn’t follow him inside (wise, to prevent a murder), and so Draco completely forgot about the sandwich threat until it was roughly lunchtime. At which point, a drawer in his desk suddenly jumped open, and a far-too-fancy £12 bready monstrosity appeared. On it a note that scrawled pepper-free, git.

Harry Potter had a lot to answer for. Draco, distracted, chipped away at the sandwich all the same, and was only shouted at twice, and didn’t even spill coffee on his keyboard.

‘Not exactly overtime’ at the office meant staying after everyone else to take note of stock and arrange all the impossible paperwork. That Draco was given this task was already hilarious, and always a disaster: that his boss insisted on continuing to give it to him, possibly commendable. Maybe he thought Draco was being stubborn. Maybe he thought, nobody could really be this bad without actively trying. Well, he didn’t know Draco yet! There was always time to learn.

Stock was stocked. The backroom was stuffy and still smelling slightly of smoke (not Draco’s fault, probably), the sweet scent of old paperwork going to rot. It made his head spin, made him inhale a little brokenly and laugh to himself. The sandwich Harry Potter forced him to eat sat heavy in his belly, sweating. Everything was so incredibly laughable.

When he finally finished (after only forgetting three steps in the protocol), the sun had long set and the streetlights were humming. Not worrying, Draco thought, going back to the office (forgot his bag). Not worrying at all (back to the office, to check he locked the door). (Why would anyone give him the keys?) (Some disasters were just asking to happen).

On his way home he stopped by the corner shop for another pack of biscuits. Some disasters, sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prepare in advance. Harry Potter would surge in soon enough with another grievance. Draco was giddy by nature, and so the shakiness was not necessarily to do with this.

Under the crescent moon drowning in cloud he wondered, do I hate peppers?

Couldn’t remember to decide by the time he made it back.

The flat, Harry-Potter-less, was not entirely quiet and frankly disinteresting. Draco forced himself in the shower (the smoky smell always caught in hair, then on pillows, and made sleep be—not sleep at all). Scrubbed, whatever. Even towelled himself dry like a real human being, and only slipped a little on the stupid rug he kept meaning to banish, to Vanish, to—chuck. He was tired. The smoke-thing was not a metaphor. He got barely the bare minimum last night.

Bear minimum? Like bear claws? Better than fire, he thought, nonsensically. Tired-Draco had a tired brain and it was only half-working in the best of times. Dragged himself to bed, knew he won’t get away that easy.

To the ceiling, too dark to make the water stains: what did Harry Potter have for his lunch? He always ate, but only when he made Draco eat too. It was some sort of ritual. A demonic binding of sorts. They had other friends who could make him eat, like Ronald and also Ronald and mostly only Ronald, and sometimes Hermione. They had other friends, but Harry Potter always ate if Draco did.

A horrible thought suddenly occurred to him: was he manipulating Harry Potter? Had he truly forgotten to pack lunch, or did he do that on purpose? Thankfully, the panic was cut off when he suddenly thought, shit, I never locked the office.

But he did. He went back to check, remember? Silly. By the time he was thinking of Harry Potter’s eating habit, he forgot to fidget about whether he was viciously tricking him or not.

Some disasters, Draco thought, half-drifting, were just asking to happen.

So, it's on AO3. It might even continue, who knows.

[c1garettesduringsex]

Hi,

Could you do an Eddie Munson x reader where she is Dustin's cousin who has come to live with them. Maybe Dustin doesn't mention it to anyone as he knows that reader if exactly Eddie's type? Then the whole gang is over for a movie night, and reader comes out her room in her pj's

"𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙋𝘼𝙅𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙎" | 𝙀.𝙈

Pairing: Eddie munson x Henderson!fem!reader.

Summary: Eddies never even seen you before, and yet. you have his heart captured.

Warning: 18+ grinding, cumming in pants, jerking off, semi-perv Eddie, Implied sex at the end, boners, sex mentions, skimpy pajamas.

A/N: smash, im not really sure if you wanted this as smutty as i made it, if not i apologize (not proof read)

Dustin’s sleepovers were nothing new, they’d been happening for years. but now, you would be there…Dustin's cousin. who he’d be sharing the floor in the basement with.

When Eddie had first seen you, he knew. he was a goner. you weren’t very similar to Dustin in many ways. but enough to know you were related, Dustin had described you as: boring, girly, and had a boyfriend.

the little lying shit!…you were, funny, gorgeous and single!it has like he’d hit the jack-pot on a woman. just with one down-fall

you were Dustin Hendersons cousin…of course he knew that, but he only realized he was fantasizing about one of best friends cousin when you actually waked through the door. you were even better than he imagined, and from the looks of things. you didn’t mind him...maybe even liked him too.

from the very second you walked through Dustin’s front door, all eyes were on you. looking stunning as he assumed you probably always did.

your PJ’s would look normal to anyone else looking at you, but fuck. you were wearing little shorts that rode up your thighs exposing underwear with bats on them. as well as a short top with the words. “black sabbath”

shit.

“I’ve got to go!” Eddie quickly said, rushing off to the bathroom upstairs. how the fuck! he had a boner from less than 20 seconds of looking at you.

what was wrong with him?! Eddie quickly tried to decide if he should jerk off in the bathroom and leave, but with the possibility of you knowing.

he unfortunately didn’t have much time to decide because through the hallway was someone calling his name

you.

“u-uh yeah?” he gulped, locking the door door so you couldn’t get in. last thing he needed was you seeing his boner than telling Dustin, no. he couldn’t stand the embarrassment.

“just wanted to make sure…y’know, okay and shit” he could hear your feet shuffling with nerves. “i am fine don’t worry about it” now its awkward…

“well then, have fun with your problem Hm?” you laughed, resting your head against the door. you knew about his raging boner for you? “T-thanks”

and with that, you left. he heard your feet move down the hall then he decided to just…jerk off. your voice and face fresh in his mind…

from the few seconds he’d heard you talked, Eddie figured maybe you were shy? however in the dark you were much different than he was expecting. and to be fair, you were technically sleeping, but you knew what you were doing. you had too.

because there was no way, your sleeping body had just kept rubbing against him.

annoyingly bringing back the boner Eddie had earlier, only this time. more hard, and more needy for you.

the little sighs, groans and gasps your mouth let out only fueled the urge to grind back against your ass. was that weird to do? probably, but in that moment he had close to no self control when you are around him.

“F-fuck” he gave in…hands on your hips, gliding you into him.

by now, you had to be awake. or at least having a little idea of what's happening? right?

“Edd-Eddie, please” oh fuck. you were actually awake. and willingly grinding on him for release.

You only went harder, faster, until his dick twitched in his underwear. and with a loud moan, you had at least tried to muffle with your hand. Eddie came in his pants, just from a little bit of friction. “t-thats embarrassing—” Eddie Munson had never experienced a kiss like the one you gave him, full of passion, tongue, lust…

you were hungry.

the night only after that was full of hard breaths, moans, used condoms. and you both loved every second of it, you were his dream girl.

"Some of the best moments in life are the ones you can't tell anyone about." — Sarah Nader

-Summer

[alavestineneas]

Soul

pairing: Finnick Odair x fem!reader

summary: This is war, and people make choices. Sometimes, there is no right one.

warnings: typical hunger games violence, Finnick and Annie aren’t soulmates, minor character death

Haymitch clicks the skip button on the remote; the next pair of tributes shows up on the screen.

''District two,'' he announces. ''Male volunteer, Brutus. His main weapon is a spear. Female tribute: Y/N.''

"Wow," Peeta mutters under his breath.

''I know her,'' Katniss says, glancing at the man beside her. ''She is on TV all the time.''

''Trust me, she is everywhere. Y/N is your main competition—Capitol's darling, lines of sponsors, deadly with a knife. They call her Panther.''

"Panther?" Katniss scoffs.

"She killed one in the arena with her bare hands." Haymitch chuckles, seeing his tribute's face transform from confident to slightly horrified.

''She is committed. I'll give her that,'' Peeta jokes.

The woman on the screen gives the cameras a half-smile, joining hands with her partner. The District 2 audience roars in excitement. Katniss felt shivers coating her skin; something in the woman's gaze caught her attention.

-

''Nice dress, dear. Though I don't know if I can call it that.''

Y/N did not even turn around, completely ignoring Finnick's existence. Her dress, or rather, a piece of cloth, left a little to the imagination. Black, almost sheer fabric lightly coated her body, tracing its curves; the only stronghold of modesty was lace lingerie.

Finnick would lie if he said she wasn't impressive; the woman looked like a goddess. It was her job, after all. Besides, he had seen her in much less. They fucked a couple of times, both too drunk to remember. That's what he told her, at least. That it doesn't mean anything because, to her, it didn't.

Finnick remembers every whisper and every messy kiss. The smell of her perfume mixed with shampoo and sweat; Y/N's hands on his back. Not soft like Annie's; no, in calluses and cuts from hours of training.

He knows it's a dead end and still allows her to kiss him. She never stays, each time running through his fingers like sand. He wasn't in love with her. Love is supposed to feel light and warm, like Annie's smile, and this felt bitter.

And yet, his soul belonged to Y/N. Maybe because she didn't care about him, Finnick was willing to let her keep it. It wasn't fair. He was supposed to be happy with Annie. She was home, his lighthouse.

But Y/N was his sea.

''Look who's talking.'' The woman finally turned around, finishing checking the strings on her horse. ''What do you want, golden boy? An alliance?'' She raised an eyebrow.

''With you? I'd rather be dead.''

''I wouldn't worry about that part, Odair.'' Brutus intervened. ''We have fifteen minutes before the start, so I suggest you keep moving.''

His outfit was much more proper. Finnick guessed it was for the best; he was not particularly excited to see the man naked. Odair suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and flashed Brutus a smile instead. ''Of course.''

''Peacock.'' the man muttered.

Y/N chuckled at her partner's remark; Finnick headed to the District 12 chariot. He wished he didn't feel her piercing gaze on his back.

-

''I believe we hadn't met before. I'm Y/N, District 2.''

Katniss looked up from the target she threw knives at. The woman in front of her was truly stunning; the camera did not do her justice in The Reaping.

''Katniss Everdeen, District 12.''

The woman laughed, clearly finding her amusing. Katniss felt the tingle of anger—did she say something funny?

''Oh, darling, I know. Everybody here knows your name. After all, you are the reason we are here again.'' The woman came closer, taking the smallest blade from the row and throwing it into the target. It hit the dummy right in the head. ''Besides, I mentored Clove and Cato in your games. Wonderful children, you know. Marvellous fighters. Had every chance to win.''

Katniss glanced at the woman's face. It was stone-cold, and her eyes focused on the targets. She wondered if the reason Clove chose the knives was because of Y/N's win. How did the career mentors feel about sending children into the arena?

''They were...good.'' Katniss agreed.

''Here is my advice, Katniss Everdeen from District 12.'' The woman hit the last target with ease. ''Pay attention to the hands.''

Katniss wondered what that was supposed to be about until she looked down at her hands. Of course, she was holding the knife wrong.

-

The first interview the Capitol aired was more of a warning. Finnick is too lost to comprehend anything Caesar is asking Peeta, his attention fixed on the Y/N next to him.

She sits on the chair, anxiously tapping on the armrest. Her eyes follow every move Caesar makes. Y/N answers carefully and thoughtfully. She didn't know the rebellion was being planned.

''Katniss, can you remember when you spoke to Y/N in the training centre?'' Plutarch asks.

''I think so.'' Katniss frowns. ''She told me these games were done because of me.''

Beete shares a look with Plutarch. Finnick doesn't know why they are surprised; Y/N always was smart.

''Anything else?''

''She talked about Clove and Cato. And that I have to pay attention to my hands.''

''Your hands?'' Plutarch doesn't sound too sure.

''Yes. I was holding the knife wrong.'' Katniss looks around the room. ''I decided.''

Plutarch nods at him, and Finnick is finally free to leave the room. After seeing this, he has a lot to think about.

-

''Finnick, there is something we want to show you.'' Haymitch nods, and Finnick steps into a small room filled with screens.

Beetee is there too, as are Katniss and Plutarch. An uneasy feeling covers his stomach; if they have him here, something happened.

His mind floods with hundreds of possibilities. Annie is at the Capitol. Y/N is there too. He did not know if they tortured her; the woman didn't know about the plan. But so did Peeta, whose ''interview'' he is watching on the screen now.

His face is beaten, and he looks like he hasn't slept for days. The boy lost what looks like fifteen pounds, the ridiculous suit on him hanging like a sheet. Peeta says something about rebels using Katniss. His interview finishes, and the screen fades to black.

Finnick feels like he missed something until the screen lights up once more. This time, a figure is tied to a chair in the middle of the cell. Finnick almost jumps, the realization hitting him—it's Annie. She is crying, begging not to kill her. Her hair is a mess, and her skin is covered in bruises.

''Move in front of the camera.'' a male voice orders.

A person comes to stand to the left of Annie. It's Y/N. She is in a military uniform, her hair tied tightly. She looks different from the first interview—now calm and collected. Her steady hand holds a gun.

''Proceed.'' the same voice commands.

Katniss gasps. A loud gunshot fires, echoing in the chamber. The screen is covered in blood and brains. Finnick doesn't hear a word Plutarch says to him. Annie is dead. They killed her.

-

''Are you sad again?'' Y/N asks, sitting beside him.

Finnick doesn't answer, still fidgeting with a piece of rope.

''You have to eat, you know?''

''Why did you kill her?" he asks, looking into her eyes.

Y/N smiles. ''She was dead way before I pressed the trigger. You killed her when you picked me over her.''

''No.'' Finnick whispers. ''It's not true.''

''Not true? Each time you looked away when you kissed her, each time you whispered my name instead of hers, you think she didn't know?"

Finnick's lower lip trembles, tears blurring his vision. ''Shut up.''

''You can stop lying now, Finnick. For once in your life, be honest with yourself. It's kind of liberating, isn't it? Not having to worry about pretending anymore. You are free.''

''I said shut up!'' he shouts, throwing the nearest mug at her.

It hits the wall, crashing. The room is empty. It always was. A scared-looking nurse watches him through the glass, ready to call for help. He waves her off - just another one of his visions.

It haunts him that the only one appearing in his dreams is Y/N. It should've been Annie, but she is dead, and Finnick hopes she finally found her peace.

Y/N is with Capitol. It's not surprising; she has no reason not to be. She was saving herself. Annie was as good as dead anyway. Still, it broke him. All of these things they had to survive because of Snow, and she still chose to serve him.

He can't blame her—Finnick saw what they did to Peeta. He doesn't know what he would've done under that torture. Still, he hopes it hurts her, given the way she betrayed herself.

-

The rescue mission was successful. Peeta and Johanna are in District 13. They captured Y/N too, but Finnick doesn't care. Coin and Plutarch spent most of their time in her room. Nobody tells him anything, but Finnick guesses that Katniss's condition isn't going to work this time.

A few days after that, Coin has an announcement to make. There are numerous cameras present, and she, as usual, wants the surviving victors to be present. So, he sits near Katniss in the first row, waiting for the tribunal to start. He knows what his vote is going to be.

The president's Coin speech is unnecessarily long and dramatic. She waves her hands around, talking about lost fighters and the need to continue resisting. ''And now, I want to award a few of our bravest soldiers.'', she concludes.

''People are dying.'' Finnick hears Katniss mutter under her breath. He is not happy with the idea either. He just wants to get over this.

The first to get a medal is a man who was leading the rescue mission. Next: two rebel soldiers.

''The last person I want to honour made the rescue of our victors possible. They spied in the heart of the Capitol and were dedicated to the revolution even in the face of death.'' Coin gestures to the bottom of the improvised stage. ''Sergant Y/L/N.''

Finnick freezes. Annie. Her screams. A gun. She is an enemy. A killer. Anxious tapping. Pay attention to the hands. The world around him begins to collide.

Y/N steps are firm. She shakes the woman's hand, accepting the medal. A few claps ring in the hall—people are surprised and likely scared. District 2 victor's face holds a few new scars.

She gets off stage as quickly as she got on, taking her place beside Plutarch. Y/N sits straight, focused on the president's words. Finnick wonders why he can't hear anything except for the heartbeat in his ears. A taste of blood fills his mouth.

''Finnick?'' Katniss whispers.

The world stops spinning.

-

Y/N is tying the laces on her boots tightly, checking everything. She blends in with the soldiers easily; they even throw around a few jokes. This is her element, something she was born and raised to do. Y/N has the most weaponry on her hands: knives, guns, and a few grantees. They have another mission.

Peeta is right next to her. For some reason, he feels the most content having her around. When Katniss asked Y/N about it, she just shrugged. ''Mutt things.''

She is in Squad 451—of course. Coin wouldn't let such a famous face get away with just living. Finnick hates having her around and hates admitting that he understands her now. There was no other choice—Y/N had to kill Annie to prove her loyalty.

The mood in the team changes completely after Mitchell's death. Finnick doesn't know what to say to Peeta, too busy calming everyone else down, and Katniss is frankly completely useless, so deep in her own emotions.

''I'll talk to him.'' Y/N stands up, checking the gun.

Katniss looks at her in horror. ''No!''

''Let her,'' Finnick says, tiredly rubbing the bridge of his nose.

''How could you say that?" Katniss turns to him in anger. ''You saw what she did! You saw!''

''I did,'' Finnick agrees, his jaw tense. ''And because of that, you got Peeta back. So let her go, Katniss.''

Y/N watches their bickering silently. Finally, Katniss nods. The woman leaves them, approaching Peeta. Their voices are still heard, and Katniss eventually relaxes.

''They were right. I am a monster.'' the baker boy says, his eyes still closed.

''It makes two of us, then.'' Y/N jokes, sitting beside him. ''You are the one Capitol created, and I am one by choice.''

''How could you say that so calmly?''

''I came to terms with it pretty early. People see what they want to, Peeta. What do you see when you look at me?''

''You saved my life.'' he shrugged.

''Yes, but I lied, and I killed people to do it. Am I a monster?'' Y/N asks. The question is rhetorical. ''When I look at you, I see a scared eighteen-year-old boy, who just wants to survive. You are strong, Peeta. Stronger than most of us. This is war, and people make choices. Sometimes, there is no right one.''

Peeta stared at her for a solid minute. ''You aren't as bad as you think you are.'' he finally says.

Y/N smiles sadly. ''You aren't either.''

-

Katniss tries to focus on the wet ladder when she hears a shout.

''Why is he there alone?'' It's Y/N.

Katniss looks down - Finnick is fighting off mutts with his trident. There are a lot of them, she realizes. He can't handle that. Just as she turns to grab something to help, she sees Y/N coming down.

''Climb!'' she shouts at her, pulling out a gun. And Katniss does.

A mutt breaks Finncik's trident in half with a loud thud, lurching at his head next. Just as its mouth opens, it falls, lifeless.

''Here.'' Y/N throws him one of her knives. ''On your left!''

They are fighting back to back - Y/N has run out of bullets, so she uses knives instead. Duck, step, and push. They have done it thousands of times, both from career Districts.

Finnick doesn't have the time to count, but mutts are slowly covering the floor, painting the water red. He feels a sharp pain in his stomach—one of the bastards managed to get him good - and grabs the nearest wall for support. Finnick watches as Y/N kills the last monster, pulling her knife out of its chest.

''Y/N,'' he says, trying to grab her attention.

''You know, you could've asked them for hand-to-hand combat if you wanted to die that badly. What were you thinking, staying here with one piece of metal on your hands, huh?''

''Y/N.''

''That's why I said you are all not fit to be fucking soldiers. You lack common sense!''

''Y/N.''

''WHAT?'' she snaps, turning to him. Her face changes from angry to concerned in a matter of seconds. ''Finnick, you are bleeding.''

He nods, feeling his knees weaken. Y/N is already beside him, sitting him on the cold floor. The water hits and soaks her pants, but she doesn't seem to notice.

''It's okay, let me look,'' she mutters, removing his hands from the injury.

It's big; she notices with horror. If they can get him help in twenty minutes, he will survive. Anything longer, and it's a dead end. Finnick knows it too; he has seen enough wounds to understand his chances. He watches as Y/N takes off her jacket, pressing it into his stomach.

''Can you hold it for me?'' she asks.

Finnick nods, feeling a sharp pain coming back. Y/N searches in her pockets until she finally finds a radio set. She tries to turn it on a couple of times, her hands trembling.

''Y/N, it's okay.''

She shakes her head. ''No, you are not going to tell me it's okay. I'll get you help, no matter if you want it or not.''

Finnick looks at her, a slow smile appearing on his face. ''Kiss me.''

''What?" Y/N looks up from the radio, mortified.

''I said kiss me, Y/N.''

She leans in closer, salty tears staining her cheeks, and places a soft kiss on his lips. ''You are getting out of here alive,'' she whispers.

''I love you,'' Finnick mutters. He closes his eyes just for a second. He is so exhausted.

-

The first thing he sees is the overbearing light. Finnick struggles to open his eyes. If this was death, it was certainly not peaceful.

He comes to his senses slowly—first, he hears beeping, and then he feels his stomach.

''Fuck.'' Finnick groans. The pain is impossible.

''Finnick?'' He hears a familiar voice. It's Y/N.

Her face is puffy, but she looks real to him. Even if it is one of his visions, Finnick is still happy to see her.

''How do you feel?'' she asks, moving the sweaty hair out of his eyes.

''Are we dead?''

Y/N stops to look at him. ''No. The radio worked, and the team managed to find us in time.''

''Good.'' Finnick closes his eyes once more. ''Because you didn't say it back.''

A choked laugh escapes her lips. ''You are an idiot, Odair,'' Y/N says, pressing a kiss on his temple. ''But I do love you.''

Finnick smiles. He always knew his soul was safe in her arms.

[pruneunfair]

Ranking all the OI I read. Part 1: the lesser.

It'll be like my tier list except with added stories from the haven't read yet section and of course my opinions.

Since Tumblr only allows 30 images per post and a daily pass based on how many pictures can be posted at all. I'll be posting this list through multiple parts starting with the worst. Get ready because there's gonna be a lot of negativity right now.

Starting with the tier I like to call "Absolute dog shit." Terrible plots, gross content being glamourized and little to no potential at all.

honestly picking the worst of the worst was hard cause there's so many to choose from.. and I think the title of the absolute worst doesn't go to Remarried empress or Today the villainess has fun again..

Its this one: beware of the brothers

I really can't say I was surprised 😭. I mean.. look at the damn title. The FL gets adopted into the family because she looks like the ML's dead sister and it just.. escalates into step-bro love. "But it's not related by blood-" still incest and even if they didn't grow up together, WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO FUCK SOMEONE WHO LOOKS LIKE YOUR DEAD SIBLING!?

The order of slave breeding

Yes this is an actual manhwa.. I genuinely wanna know why the author just looked at themselves in the mirror and said "Yes this is a good idea." As the title suggests.. it's about a slave merchant for a FL and her slaves falling in love with her and as if it couldn't be uncomfortable enough it is one of the few manhwa with a dark skinned ML. I don't care how many times they'll offer excues for the lead I don't fw slavery being used as a romance device in media.

I belong to house Castillo

Technically I didn't read all of it, I just read the spoilers for the rest of the chapters but to be fair, I just got finished cursing myself by reading stepbro fantasies and master/slave ships, I'm not trying to give my FBI agent a reason to search my hard drives. It's a basic and cliché found family where the FL Estelle is sold by her mother to her father and the ML is a 17 year old who basically grooms her..why? Because raising your love interest is the "only" way to make a story stand out amongst the other generic found family tales.

I tamed my ex husband's mad dog.

More cases of grooming except this time it's the FL as the perpetrator. ML looks like he's 8 but he's apparently 16.. so we got a groomer protagonist in the form of Reinhardt who also neglects her first child and favors her second child she had with her victim with the excuse of not wanting to care for her son being that he looks like her toxic ex. Lady what? That boy deserves his own villain arc holy shit.

No more turning a blind eye.

This one really dissapointed me 😔. The cover looked stunning, the artstyle while a little off was still eye catching and the title sounded promising. Nah this is a hunk of junk that had a gentrification plot for some reason.. and you were supposed to sympathize with the guy who wanted to render hundreds of people homeless to make room for art galleries or whatever it was they wanted?

The dragon kings bride

I already knew this one was probably gonna suck judging by the title. First off it treats dark skinned people like barbarians, the ML Hakan meets Lucina when she's a child, Lucina is threatened with death if she doesn't marry him and you can probably guess where it goes. Like I said I don't really have a right to be shocked but it still goes on the list for its weird obsession with Lucina being so tiny that having sex with Hakan could kill her along with a not so hidden pregnancy fetish.

I became the tyrants secretary.

Its just workplace sexual harassment, theres not much to it. Cannot stand the ML who is a basic garbage human and Rosalyn is a block of wood when it comes to personality. She wants to do all these things but she has no spine and no will to actually do them but at the same time shes so good at everything on a whim. I usually don't mind a clueless FL but Jesus christ! She makes Adrien Agreste look smarter!

The villains savior

Gotta say the artstyle is really pretty and the FLs design is so cute. Everything else though is pretty bad. The point is basically the lead Ezlay is trying to essentially "fix" the ML as the title suggest. A lot of people dislike this one because Ezlay is very emotional and cries too much but that's honestly the least of the issues here. Now to be fair, Aseph is a villain so it's expected that he's gonna suck but that doesn't mean Ezlay needs to have the personality of a rock either, it's not that she cries a lot that annoys me, she's literally just a male fantasy personified. All she is absolute patience and acceptance for what Aseph does to point of enabling that toxic behavior.

Now we enter manhwas that are horrificly awful, not much difference except these ones have a bigger grain of potential

Lucia

This one got a lot of hate tiktok so naturally I had to read it and yeah, it was pretty bad. The artstyle though just.. I'm sorry but Lucia's face is literally just 👁 👄 👁 and thats not even mentioning the ML Hugo. It's really crinegy and it tries to fill that void with poorly made smut. The plot is also really and I mean REALLY dead set on 1950s values for women and the relationship between Lucia's and Hugo is downright toxic. In fact I don't even think there's a plot.. it's just porn. The only reason it's not in dogshit tier is that it's so iconic for being awful that it deserves to be higher up.

When the villainess is in love.

Okay all I can give this one is that Libertia has a better character design than Lucia. She's a mary sue but at this point that's a lot of leads nowadays so it's not a total shock but this is definitely a case where the story would be so much better if it was the actual Libertia as the protagonist instead of a carbon copy of the ogfl taking over. The worst part though is the fashion and I normally do not care about how dresses look in OI as long as they at least look good and fit the setting.. and dear God a lot of those dresses are nightmares to look at. Thankfully I had heard the novel was better.

Today the villainess has fun again

not a fan of the protagonist. Reilynn is really insufferable to follow since she's basically just an entitled asshole who thinks that just because she got transmigrated as the wealthiest woman in the land that she must be in the right because she's not like Iris who is a basic pick me girl. Beyond the fact that watching her throw money at people to get past an obstacle without effort she's also heavily written as a pedo because out of her options which had 2 green flags her age, she chooses the slave she bought who acts and looks like a 10 year old boy with attachment issues.

Try begging

what is with Solche and their weird obsession with rapist male leads? It's somehow worse then cry or better yet beg. Basically the FL Sally/Grace is a spy and when the ML Leon finds out.. he basically tortures her and SA's her multiple times and somehow they fall in love. Do with that what you will, the only slack I will kind of give Try begging is that it at least warns you of what your getting into beforehand. I really hate that Solches writing actually has so much potential to be amazing yet they use their talents to make rape fetish content. I want to know why manhwa tiktok likes this so much, they're all about girl code until a rapist looks hot (Leon isn't even hot, hes mad ugly)

Abandoned empress

Ah yes, good ol abandoned empress, the manhwa communities favorite punching bag so it's only right it lands here. For all the writers out there if your making a character you'd want the readers to support as the love interest you typically would give them an interesting personality and to tone down anything you think is too much for a healthy relationship. Abandoned empress decides to do the opposite of that and even after scenes of Ruve abusing his wife Aristia by cheating on her, beating her, SA'ing her, killing her dad, and causing her to miscarry so you would naturally think "okay clearly Ruve is the antagonist." But instead they pulled some bullshit "but he's not doing it anymore because he was poisoned in the last timeline!"... what!? Were there any new writers by any chance because how did we go from a abusive monster to a misunderstood Lil guy? I would say more but I think everyone already agreed a long time ago Abandoned empress is ass.

Revenge on the real one

the protag is essentially those villainesses in regression stories that cause the heroines initial downfall. I was already aware of what would happen before I even read and let me tell you it was accurate. The protagonist Helga is AWFUL. The torture she puts Hillian through is overkill and at this point Hillian deserves her own regression story to stand up to Helga because my girl was not that bad for her sister to ruin her life because of a stupid tragic origin story. The worst part is the Helga fans I see on places like tiktok who just don't want to admit their FL is a bad person. "Oh but Helga past was so sad! It's not her fault she's like this." Don't mean she has to banish her sister from her own nation when Hillian was innocent.

Villain Dukes precious one.

I really dislike the reincarnated as a baby trope and I can only ever tolerate it when it's just for a few little chapters. They always feel like those weird ass Elsagate videos with embarrassing humor to come across as funny and this one is no different. Even after the FL grows up the plot is still bland and cringe inducing. I don't have a lot to say about this one other then it is weird as hell. Apparently it also got a little incest-y so no thanks!

Poisonous Lily

While the characters looked basic in terms of design the title sounded intriguing. Unfortunately the translation is horrible, they can't even get the whole Lily flower theme right on the tapas version by giving her tulips to carry on her wedding. The dialog is..interesting to say the least. I won't lose it too much though on this one though since I'm pretty sure this is a lower level book trying to make it out in a sea of over advertised manhwa

I thought my time was up.

You know those porn/no plot tags on ao3? That's basically ITMTWU in a nutshell. Within only 20 chapters, the male lead Asrahan is already obsessed with Lariette after chapters of her violating his personal space to force a relationship between them. The whole magic plot is pushed to the side, Asrahans curse isn't allowed to be an actual rotting flesh curse like it's described as cause he's still gotta be pretty, and the rest of the plot is basically just soft core porn and fanservice that does little to actually move whatever is left of the plot.

For my derelict favorite.

The. Hypocrisy. How is this book gonna make the entire message about deconstructing main character centered morality and then almost immediately backpeddaling with justifying Hestia for attacking a woman who doesn't know her for rejecting her favorite man and proceeding to just ruin her day whenever she can. Hestia would say "im not like other girls." Hestia would be an avid fan of those trust fund baby GMV. Hestia would put her hair in a messy bun, shit on whatever is popular and act like she's making a statement . Even calling her Hestia feels like straight up disrespectful to the real goddess of the hearth who funnily enough is known as one of the most chill Greek gods.

Marry my husband

now Marry my husband is not insanely problematic wheras it's just cliché, predictable and in general pretty bad. It is a fast food manhwa designed to fulfill the classic top boss takes good care of you fantasy so naturally a lot is put on hold to showcase the sweet relationship between the central characters and almost everyone needs to have a lover. It's so bad it's actually kinda funny because the villains are so cartoonishly evil for office workers. Sumin is out here speaking in 3rd person, dressing in clothes found in the little kid section of Walmart and makes comical comments about her desire to ruin Jiwons life, Minhwan is basically a borderline discord mod who casually killed jiwon in the first timeline and goes "Oh well." and there's this random ugly old man who's name I can't remember who's the only one interested in Sumin till the end because he basically wants em younger without the risk of going to federal prison.

Remarried empress

I don't think i need to explain much at this point, if you know my account then you already know how I feel about remarried empress. Season 1 was pretty good though.

Divorcing my tyrant husband

I think we all know at this point that's whenever a title has the word "divorce" 9/10 of the time there is never going to be divorce and it'll devolve into the FL changing her mind and staying with her trashy ex husband because he now decided that Robelia wasn't like other girls and left his mistress in the dust. The plot kinda started getting out of hand when Robelias love interests expanded to one of her obsessed slaves and a Duke to prove that Alexandros was the better option. The villian Aisha is a joke who gets her ass handed to her over and over because "damsel woman always bad." and the art starts to lose its touch. I usually don't mind when artstyle changes but dear God do some of these characters look a Lil fugly.

Cry or better yet beg.

The final story that is in the awful section, why? Because it has the most lost potential. As terrible as this CoHo equivalent is, it details the very realistic parts of being a mistress to a nobleman. In most other stories, the mistress is an evil wench who could easily back out but in cry or better yet beg, Layla is unable to escape Matthias's abuse because it could risk her uncles job. There's a lot to this manhwa and novel that could've made a tragic story about a girl trapped in an abusive relationship with little help, the art is gorgeous and the characters for the most part were well written. It's a real shame that it turned out to be a rape apologist work instead.

next up are the mediocre manhwas, finally there will a little more positivity.

The villainess is a marionette

its.so.boring! This one was hyped up all over the place on Instagram and tiktok and the art looked stunning so I gave it a shot. This is definitely one of those stories that only got popular because of its art in my opinion because the plot is so confusing. Events are happening left and right, the pacing goes from too fast to too slow, characters personalities and traits keep warping, and while this might just be the result of poor adaptation her brother comes across as incestuous a couple of times. while Cayena isn't the worst FL, she's a mary sue by all definitions. Sorry but it's a bunch of jumbled wires. The reason it earns a spot in "it's okay" is because I heard the novel like usual is better so it might not be the fault of the original author

I was the male leads ex

It wasn't bad just boring but a little less boring then the former I'll give it that. The artstyle looked prettier in the beginning so that was kind of sad to see it change in later chapters. What drew me to keep reading was the chance that the ogfl Julianna may not be evil but even a potential love interest. So I got excited and apparently there's the idea that Julianna is actually her brother in disguise which.. would just ruin it tbh, there goes any chance at a ogfl being a human being and not a plot device. Not a huge fan of Erica or really any of the love interests.

From maid to queen

This is the newest of the lineup I read and it was actually interesting for once to see a new story where the MC was the concubine. First off the maids feel less like women employed to do the chores of the palace and more like the cartel 😭, in early chapters whenever Urania is aiming to be the concubine, being lazy with her job or getting comfortable with a powerful man in general they're already out with sticks ready to ruin her day and they even try to kill her. Lot of people don't like that Urania isn't a girls girl but honestly I can't blame her for wanting more out of life then poverty, where she comes across as stupid is that she's still wanting that role even after it got her killed last time. I think that it could work though since it shows that urania is more human and not a perfect goddess of a woman however that does not make up for the shit world building (like what the hell was that mushroom that could turn into a perfect still corpse of you 💀)

The villainess maker.

Ill admit I'm a little harsh on this one on my tier list. The plot still isn't great but there are so much worse out there so it ended up moving up on the list due to default. The plot is mostly just bland and generic down to all the characters and the tropes. Ayla is a girlboss in the villainesses body, Charlotte is a super "revolutionary" kind girl turned wicked wench and the ML is another "touch her and I'll kill you" type. What i will give the Villainess maker is the distinct artstyle. It's not as stylized and while it does get lazy at the end it still is very recognizable.

Abellas dessert shop.

Its another extremely underrated manhwa that's another isekai about a wronged woman looking to move on from her shitty fiancé and start a dessert shop. Ngl the moments where Abella is forced to put on a kind face despite her cheating fiancé or her ex friend popping in is definitely relatable especially in the workforce. Still a little bland but wholesome.

I didn't mean to seduce the male lead.

Eleanor is the FL hired to convince the ML to accept women into his life with the hopes that he will fall in love with the ogfl Irene. Tbh this one can get very icky with how it tries to force the notion that you must fall in love but the guy just instantly falls in love with Eleanor so.. I guess that's a little better? Regardless though i will not fault this manhwa too much because unfortunately the author died before the story was over so it deserves a little slack since it never got the chance to be more. Rest in peace author.

Who made me a princess.

Ill be straight with this now: it's Mid. Objectively the story isn't too terrible and I do find Athy a good protagonist not to mention my love for Jennete but everything else is pretty "meh." Not a huge fan of Claude from his design to his personality, the ML is another case of a grown as immortal meeting his wife when she's still a child (theres a little credit ill admit for Athy being mentally a grown woman but that doesnt stop me from thinking its uncomfortable to acknowledge) It can be cute sometimes and I'll give it that but I don't think I'll ever reread it, just not for me.

Actually I was the real one

Good god this was such a bastardization of the original novel. With that said I'll admit i was still entertained reading it since you could say that the novel wouldn't be an instant cheat sheet to learn what was gonna happen. Still it could've at least tried to be a loyal adaptation. They give Keira 2 options to choose as a love interest when she had none in the source material, Zeke is pushed to the side and the maids honestly get on my nerves with their one note personalities. They also seem to forget that Cosette is literally being possessed by a demon he'll bent on destroying humanity (which she succeeded in the first time) because what was built up as an amazing antagonist is just a joke now. The only other redeeming factors are that in the Manhwa Cosette is still alive and the whole elemental plot stays constant. Despite my complaints on the adaptation it is still a interesting read but the novel will always beat it no matter what.

I know it sounds like I'm just being a negative Nancy with all of these and I'm sorry for being so negative but the next part will be more positive.

Next time on part 2 will be the decent stories.

[finalgirlguy]

fave first watches of april + may

dead ringers (1988) – really sad in a really fucked up way oh my god. i need to watch more cronenberg. i don’t even have words. i ❤️ codependency

death becomes her (1992) - serves cunt in a silly manner!!!! i just love 90s silly camp this was everything!!!!

challengers (2024) – sometimes. movies can be good. did you guys know that. i’m still reeling from some directing choices like the invisible playing field and role playing as a ping pong ball. yay. and 3 crazyyyy people zendaya the hottest most gorgeous stunning woman in the world and she’s playing little mind control games on her bisexual boyfriends. really great.

faster, pussycat! kill! kill! (1965) – unhinged and relentless. i’m obsessed with the way everyone delivered their lines. it’s exploitation at its most fun! though a lot of the time i was wishing i was watching a john waters movie ill be honest

lake mungo (2008) – so unsettling in such an unique way it was so uncomfortable. i very rarely get scared at horror movies and i was shaking at some points

we’re all going to the world’s fair (2021) – so deeply deeply sad and beautiful and cold i’m in love with it. represents perfectly what it feels like when you’re deeply lonely and the entire world narrows down to your cold bedroom and your backyard. and the ways isolation and depression and dysphoria can morph your perception of reality. a movie for lonely teenagers

[frasier-crane-style]

Very early on in this movie, hero Christian Grey gives da chick the standard romantic leading man speech about how he's bad news--a loner, Dottie, a rebel--and she should still clear of him. At this point, they've gone out to get coffee one time and he's saved her from a careening bike messenger. I know it must be exciting to tell a lady that she should stay away from your twisted mind for her own feminine good, but dude, save it for at least the second date.

This came to Netflix, so I figured I might as well give a shot. It's a failure, obviously, but it's an interesting failure. There are talented people both on screen and behind the scenes, and it looks like a movie, but all their efforts amount to putting lipstick on a pig. Would it be unfairly inside-baseball to repeat the reports of a troubled production, with the author insisting on an adaptation that was too faithful for its own good?

Try not to do a shot every time heroine Anastasia Steele* extravagantly bites her lower lip in lust.

(how come Dakota Johnson's character name in this is way more silly than the name of the literal superhero she played?)

To be fair to the movie, I've seen a ton of waggish assholes like, well, me, declare that this movie is a camp classic of unintended hilarity and guys, c'mon. There's no way they didn't intend "What are buttplugs?" as a laughline.

In fact, with Dakota Johnson's sitcom star comedic timing and winsome charm, watching this movie is a bit like finding a coke-begotten relic of the 80s where some madman paired Meg Ryan and Rutger Hauer (it doesn't help that, as "Mr. Grey," they cast an actor that plays serial killers about as often as heartthrobs).

I'm making this story sound interesting, but it's not able to succeed on its own terms, as whenever it tries to get serious, the drama runs headlong into a howler of a line that must be verboten from the books. "I'm fifty shades of fucked up!" Christian groans at one point.

"I don't make love. I fuck. Hard," is another line that even Sir Michael Caine couldn't get into working order.

It's a shame, because there's no real reason a modern-day gothic romance can't work. Sure, there's no real plot to the thing besides Ana and Christian's doomed/not-so-doomed romance, but there are worse foundations for a movie than a relationship where the guy wants to hurt his lady love as much as romance her. It's fucked up, but imagine what a Cronenberg or Verhoeven could do with the assignment. Well, full frontal, probably.

(The compromise to keep Jamie Dornan from spending a third of the movie displaying the status of his circumcision is that he does most every sex scene in a worn pair of jeans. I probably should've been too stunned by his abs to wonder at this, but dude's a billionaire. Is he doing yardwork in those jeans? Home repair? Or have they gotten all the holes in them purely from screwing? Man, that guy does fuck. Hard.)

You know, given that bondage is a pretty common fetish, you'd think Christian Grey--an ubersexy twenty-something billionaire--would be able to find a woman who's into, y'know, all that--especially since his wildest antics are a little whipping and possible anal fisting.

I know there'd be no story if he didn't immediately fall in love with Anastasia Steele (snicker) and if she wasn't only putting up with the bondage to get the package deal. Still, that is a pretty contrived starting point, isn't it? At least Team Edward has the excuse of that whole 'my own personal brand of heroin' thing.

[riptideripley]

Chapter two of: Addicted.

word count: 1,836

Roman sat up out of his bed with a groan, waking up to his 7:30 alarm. He sat up and was instantly sore, giving him a fresh reminder of last night. He sighed and grabbed his phone off the charger, eyes widening when he saw 3 missed calls from Rhea. He instantly called her back as he flipped the covers off his legs and stood up to stretch.

"Hey Rips, what's up?"

"Did seth tell you"

"Tell me..what?"

"Well he set up a breakfast "date" for us to go to so we can talk. It's at 8:30 so hurry up."

She spat out and hung up quickly leaving Roman stunned. He put his phone back on the charger and grabbed his essentials out of his suitcase, heading to the bathroom.

Rheas POV

I hung up almost instantly after talking to Roman. Why the fuck would Seth set this shit up knowing I'm still pissed?! I glanced over at Dom who was peacefully sleeping, god he looked beautiful. I gently shook him, "Hey Dom..I have to go soon alright?" I spoke softly not wanting to really disturb him.

"Yeah..? Alright mami be safe" he mumbled tiredly back to me, kissing my hand before turning to the other side to get comfortable. I smiled and got out of bed, walking to the bathroom to check myself out. I've already went to the gym, showered, and did everything a woman needed to do. I checked the time and saw it was already 8:10 so I grabbed my mini bag and headed out the door, giving Dom a kiss on the cheek before leaving.

15 Minutes Later.

I arrived and I'm instantly irritated. I see Roman and Seth sitting at a small squared table off to the corner, walking over there. "Rhea! Glad you could make it." Seth said with a smile in which I returned one as I sat down. Looking at Roman just made me sick.

No ones POV

All Roman could do was look at her. I mean he felt guilty and tried everything to apologize, but he knew it would take some time.

"Rhea look, I know I've already explained everything to you. I'm really sorry alright? I never meant for him to find those messages and find out everything."

Rhea sighed, stirring the coffee stick around in her black coffee Seth ordered for her. "Yeah..I guess I accept your apology. I just don't want Jimmy around me ever. again."

"Alright I can promise that no worries" he responded with a smile, finally all of this would be put to rest.

"Soo..how's you and Dom?" Seth questioned, taking a sip of his coffee. "Things are..meh. Same old same old I guess" Rhea responded with a slight smile, not wanting to go into detail about the truth.

Truth be told, after Dominik found out about Rhea sleeping with Roman things went sideways for a while. He wouldn't book hotel rooms with her, he wouldn't even sit next to her in the car rides with the group. It took him a few weeks to finally talk to her and at least..attempt to move on from it. Things went well for a while and then they didn't. It took them a while to get back on track and just let things smoothe over on its own.

Roman looked around taking in the scenery when he spotted someone. Dean. He damn near jumped up out of his seat to go run and hug him but remained composed. "Rhea you know you can always talk to us right?" "Yeah..Yeah I know" she spoke which snapped Roman out of his zone. He was too busy looking around and staring at Dean to realize the conversation they were having. They were going on and on about the whole situation from Elimination Chamber and how her relationship was with Dom. He felt bad truly but god it was just unfair Dom got to have her and not share.

Rhea checked her phone and stood up almost instantly. "Hey I um- I gotta go. Something happened with Damian and Finn" she spoke quickly, grabbing her coffee cup and leaving.

Seth noticed Roman staring at someone and looked, it was Dean.

Flashback.

"Dean this isn't fair and you know it."

"Oh cmon Seth. You know he'll never love you the way he loves me just fucking face it dude."

Roman just sat there completely silent and out of it. He was in love with his two best friends and didn't know what the fuck to do. Seth walking in on him and Dean didn't make things any better for him either.

"One day Seth you'll realize. Nothing and no one can replace me in his life."

End of flashback.

Seth's blood boiled and his heart sank. Dean was the one person he didn't want to see ever again after those words Dean spoke to him. Roman seemed to notice this and sat there quietly, his gaze shifting off to look outside the window.

"Go talk to him, I know you want to."

"Seth I-" "Go."

Roman silently stood up and made his way over to the table were Dean was sitting alone. "Holy shit- Ro?" Dean spoke damn near choking on his drink. Roman chuckled and smiled. "Hey Dede..haven't seen you in a while you know. Ever since you went to AEW you kinda ghosted me" he spoke and took a seat in the chair across from Dean.

"Shit dude sorry about that. Works have been busy and you know how shit is" Dean spoke feeling guilty about just leaving Roman alone how he did. "It's fine I get it, how'd you like it over there?" Roman questioned.

"Awe man you've got to come watch one of my matches if you aren't busy- I'm having a blast" he spoke, seeming very enthusiastic about it which made Roman chuckle to himself. "I'll try, hey did you uh get a new number or something" he asked as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. "Shit- I did, here give me your phone"

Seth just sat there. Watching as Dean typed his new number into Roman's phone. This whole interaction just made him more and more pissed off, so he stood up and walked out of the building. Roman noticed and just sighed in his head, continuing his conversation with Dean.

When Seth got back to the hotel, he was not expecting the scene he saw in the lobby.

"Damian what the absolute FUCK is wrong with you huh?! You go out with Dom for one fucking night and come back with a pregnancy?!" Rhea was fussing at Damian at the top of her lungs. From what Seth gathered within the 5 seconds of him being there, Damian and Dominik went out to a club and Damian got someone pregnant. Thank god this was a WWE only reserved hotel or shit would've hit the fan quickly.

Finn was pacing around furious while Dom just stood there silently. He knew who the girl was sadly and if he told Rhea it would just make her more mad. He noticed Seth out of the corner of his eye and sighed as he quietly walked over to him.

"Is everything..good?" "Fucks no. I mean you hear what she's saying" Dom responded very quickly as he sat down in a lounge chair with Seth.

"So he got someone pregnant huh?" Seth asked as he sipped on the coffee he got to go. "Yeah..I mean I told him it was a bad idea to go home with the girl but he didn't listen to me. And I mean you know the whole thing between him and Finn right?" Seth shook his head no.

"Shit dude you've got to keep up with the locker room whispers. Apparently they're in some sort of relationship without a label on it, it's confusing shit and I just gave up on trying to keep up with it."

"So that's why he's so mad.." "Yup."

At this point Roman had returned and Rhea's former tag partner Liv showed up from all the commotion. "Rhea! Calm the fuck down ok?" Liv spoke as she held onto Rhea's arm to pull her back from slapping the taste out of Damian. Rhea snatched her arm out of her grip and walked off to go calm herself down. Dominik took this opportunity to stand up and go after her to make sure she didn't break anything like she tends to do. Damian stood there pissed after being yelled at like a fucking 2 year old but to be honest he deserved it.

Hours later. 7:30 pm.

It was a saturday so everyone tended to head out to a club or something to relax and have fun. Rhea invited Roman,Seth,Liv,Dom, and Bianca out to a bar for the night to cool off. When Roman arrived, he spotted Rhea alone and went to go talk to her. "Hey you alright? Where's everyone else?" "Oh hey..well the girls and seth are over there bothering some people. Dominik decided not to show up and instead went to Damian's room" he nodded at her words and ordered him a double whiskey.

"See you ordering the same thing as me hm" Rhea spoke and chuckled to herself, sipping on her glass of whiskey. Roman smiled and took a sip of his drink when he received it, looking off in the distance at Seth.

"You two still messing around?" Rhea asked, trailing her foot up his leg. She knew she was wrong for doing this but she couldn't help herself when he looked that good in his all black tight fitted shirt and sweatpants. Roman noticed this instantly and chuckled to himself, running his hand up her leg. "Yeah..we are. Is that an issue Miss Ripley?"

"Oh not at all..I can change that tho" she spoke with a smile and finished off her drink, Roman doing the same.

Fast Forward to the next morning.

Rhea sat up and looked next to her, instantly jumping out of the bed. How the fuck did she get in bed with Roman of all people? She quickly dressed herself and was about to leave but was stopped at the feeling of a hand on her waist. "Leaving now Rhea?" a familiar voice of Roman's in her ear.

"Yes Roman..Dom is probably worried sick about me alright?" she spoke and shoved his hand off of her. "Fine, go ahead and leave. We'll talk about this at some point" he spoke and watched her leave, loving every second of the view. He turned over in his bed and grabbed his phone, calling Dean to plan to meet up.

Rheas POV

I banged on the door, trying everything to wake at least Dom up. Finally he opened the door and looked at me, not seeming too happy to see my face.

"So..Roman again huh?" shit.

[callmearcturus]

okay so PC Gamer just scattered a bunch of catnip for me with an article about What If Each Fallout Game Were A Movie, Who Would Direct It and I am going to read this live and judge it

because I'm having a relapse, we all understand this

A focused, mature, pressure cooker of a movie that is short and stylishly violent? Better call the director of John Wick to take the directorial reigns. Personally, I find Leitch's movies tend to have rather underwhelming final acts, too, and also have a penchant for ending abruptly when you feel more could have followed, so he's the perfect fit for a game that's incredible until it very quickly ends without much fanfare. John Wick movies don't tend to be very wacky either, often depicting the hero's world as very serious (despite the ludicrous premise of the fiction), so again this feels a strong and apt choice for the OG Fallout. A Friday night action movie.

HMMMMMM. I feel like I disagree on the mode I would want FO1 to be in. Like, yes, you can play it that way, but FO1 is famously one of the first games to make Speech arguably the most important skill to have in a video game, so I dunno. I love Leitch and feel like while his sense of realistic-yet-stunning action is a trademark, I think the use of locations is even more of his thing, and when I think about memorable locations, I think more of FO2 than FO1.

I feel like I would give FO1 to some hyper-realistic scumbag who is more obsessed with Process than Enterta-- oh. Nolan. gdi I'd give FO1 to Chris fucking Nolan, him whomst I loathe.

Who better to direct this expansive and often wacky depiction of the Fallout universe than the director responsible for epics such as Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, 12 Monkeys, Brazil, The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, and The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? Gilliam loves a good road trip in his work, too, which fits with Fallout 2's Highwayman-based exploration, and his penchant for vast vistas with wacky and absurd details feels perfect. The combat scenes wouldn't be as slick as Leitch's Fallout movie, but characterisation and a more rambling, philosophical, off-beat narrative would deliver. Plus, Fallout 2 even has a Bridge Keeper encounter that directly references Monty Python and the Holy Grail, in which Gilliam starred. Watch on a Saturday night for a bit of everything.

......... I straight up cannot argue with that. No notes.

For a movie based on a game that is focussed almost entirely on squad-based combat in urban environments, combat where soldiers die in terrible ways and the horrors of war are all too apparent, I feel the director of The Hurt Locker, Kathryn Bigelow is perfect for this. Fallout: Tactics would be a war movie with a very tight focus and strong characterisation for just a handul of lead characters. Tense and at times adrenaline-inducing due to the flashes of extreme violence, but interspersed with soul-searching dialogue from its grizzled, war-scarred leads, this would be an erudite and focused Fallout war movie. Watch on a Monday or Tuesday night.

Looking at Bigelow's list of works is how I just now learned she also did Strange Days, so I think it's fair to say that this is giving her way too small of a pick. Give her FO1 and give Leitch FOT.

It would be so bad. Forget about A-bombs, everyone in the movie would drop an F-bomb every other line. Don't watch on any night.

Fucking weak-ass pick. Think about the history of how FO:BoS happened, i.e. they were trying to slap the Fallout license onto a completely different style of game without any respect for the source material. They swapped out Nuka Cola for Bawls product placement.

Give it to Zack Synder.

As the game that properly introduced V.A.T.S. system slow-mo to the Fallout universe, with kill shots shown off in glorious bullet time, there can be only one director for a film version of Fallout 3: the master himself, John Woo. Woo's stellar action movie work in titles such as Hard Boiled, Broken Arrow, Face/Off and Mission Impossible 2, among others, means the action in this game is off the charts. Slow-mo radiated doves and all! Woo handles the post-apocalypse war vibes well, too, thanks to his work on Windtalkers, while he communicates the hero's awakening into the future thanks to previous on Paycheck. A good fit for Friday night, thanks to the action, or midday during the weekend due to a longish, war movie-style runtime.

.....................

holy shit i cannot argue with that, that's genius. absolutely fucking yes. i think that's a perfect fit.

also, like, FO3 and Woo have the same "problem" for me, in that they know exactly what they are doing, it's just not my cup of tea, but there is a solid identity there.

yeah, fucking do it, give FO3 to John Woo.

SHUT THE FUCK UP

WHO WROTE THIS ARTICLE, AND DID THEY WRITE IT FROM MY FUCKING ATTIC?!

Casinos, gritty environments, extreme violence and heist movie vibes mean I think of Guy Ritchie for this film adaptation. Ritchie's also a fan of slow-mo combat shots, too, so we've got the game's V.A.T.S. system represented well, too, while the game's macho factional warfare as undertaken by factions like Caesar's Legion and the NCR, is right in keeping with Ritchie's love of gang-based conflict. There's not much romance in New Vegas, either, which is a weak spot for Ritchie, but as shown in movies like Sherlock Holmes, Snatch, The Gentleman, and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels, he's good at holding together movies with various interconnecting narratives. His work on Aladdin also shows he can handle the comedic and wacky aspects of New Vegas, too. A mid-week action-comedy treat.

/rubs face

I am unfortunately a massive fucking fan of Ritchie movies. this is so powerful.

i think........... Ritchie is so thoroughly uninterested in saying anything philosophically profound, you cannot give him The Most Profound Fallout Game. like, I want to love this idea, I really do, but no.

....................... You need someone with snappy dialogue that actually means something, who is willing to veer into borderline magical realism, who loves an overdressed set, and who can manage a lot of different characters with well-reasoned motivations.

I think you need Rian Johnson.

OR DO I JUST WANT RIAN JOHNSON TO MAKE A VERSION OF "DEAD MONEY" THAT DOESN'T SUCK? WHO COULD SAY.

I feel Ang Lee is a good choice for a Fallout 4 movie adaptation, having good form in handling large and sprawling fictions with plenty of characters and side-stories. Just look at films like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Life of Pi as an example of this. He's got some form with action, too, thanks to his work on Hulk. There's probably more romance/relationship offering in Fallout 4 than in any other Fallout, and Ang Lee has form here too. The result, though, is a movie that ends up being a bit flabby and unfocussed at times, despite technically bringing more to the table than Fallout 3, and being funnier and lighter overall. Watch on a day off due to a chonky runtime.

what are you fucking talking about, Ang Lee's best movies are Brokeback and Sense & Sensibility, and his worst are probably Hulk and Gemini Man. Fallout 4 is the one where Bethesda just stopped pretending to give a shit about story and roleplaying, instead pivoting the game into a skinner box of tightly-honed but ultimately soulless mechanics.

I'm not even trying to mock Marvel, but I feel like the MCU's Design-By-Producer-And-Executive-Oversight is actually the answer here. It doesn't matter who directs it because the main voice will be a board room.

oh shut upppppp

Fallout Shelter would in some ways be the most obvious setup for a movie: the self-contained story of a vault-dwelling society, interspersed with the surface adventures of random dwellers. Sounds a bit like the TV show when you put it like that, which is why there's only one Nolan for the job: Christopher! Yes, fresh off Oppenheimer it is time for Oppenheimer 2, focusing on the aftermath of all-out nuclear war (hell, Cillian Murphy can even have a cameo as a brain in a jar, I'm that generous). Moody, intense, riven with twists you didn't see coming, and with all special effects done for realsies, this movie could only ever be rad. The only downside is that, like the TV show Silo, you'd spend an awful lot of time indoors.

absolutely fucking not. the thing about Nolan is that his shit is so meticulous, it like.... pitches past hyper-realism and lands in this weird uncanny valley of "he wouldn't fucking say that" but it's for a character you've only known for ten minutes.

FO: Shelter is about emergent storytelling that feels almost accidental rather than arranged or scripted. you need someone who is hands-off the script but can capture a.... good moment..............

oh god, it's JJ Abrams, isn't it? god dammit. or, frankly? Spielberg. so I'm saying no to the director i hate and offering instead two other directors i dislike, but for different reasons.

yeah. yep. that's what i'm doing.

SPITTAKE

As an MMO that takes many aspects of the Fallout universe to the extreme, it feels a movie version of Fallout 76 would be akin to a huge-budget, climatic MCU movie where it really helps if you've had previous with the series to get most enjoyment. As such, I feel the Russo brothers would take the reigns for Fallout 76. The result would be a jack-of-all-trades action-adventure that borrows bits of every previous Fallout to make something that appeals to a lot of people but, after watching, doesn't go down as something you'd rewatch for most all of them. Big, bright, wacky and action-filled, there's no doubting though that you get a spectacle and fun, though. Watch in two sittings over two nights (as the movie's runtime is 3 hours 47 minutes).

no. fuck you. i reject your premise. the Fallout game that shipped with no NPCs and expected the story to be entirely conveyed by set-pieces, environmental design, and audiologs?

resurrect Tarkovsky and give us FO76, desolate and beautiful with environmental shots that last seven minutes without a cut. because the only good thing about FO76 is the setting, the amount of effort put into building the actual space, so I want 90 minutes of film and seven pages of script.

Russo Brothers, get tf out of here

[zeepz-art]

Spoilers for Arcane season 2 Episodes 1-6 ahead, tread with caution:

Also keep in mind everything I rant about here are just my current opinions and concerns, this could change after the next three episodes' release.

Ok.... first of all, never has a show made me sob as hysterically as this one has. The end of almost every episode has had me in tears so intense that I'm sitting there hiccuping oh my god. Like when Vi and Vander hugged at the end of Episode 5, or when the 'Remember Me' flashback happened GOD

The art and animation is as STUNNING as usual holy shit. This show is so beautiful and the visuals are addicting. It's all such good inspiration for fanart and just future artworks in general, it's honestly an artist's paradise and I genuinely can't believe something like this exists.

Anyway, initial gushing and ranting aside, here are some of my... gripes? concerns? about Season 2 for now.

(Please keep in mind that these opinions are not set in stone since the season isn't fully released yet but I still want to rant about them and get it all out of my system.)

Overall the season has been really really good, I am really enjoying it. But I can't help but feel SO confused. Maybe it's the fact that it seems a lot more focused on League of Legends storylines and references this time (I have no knowledge of League lore), but so many of the different plots throughout the episodes have left me so confuzzled.

For example, in Episode 6, it feels like so much happened that was so out of pocket. When Vi runs into Caitlyn, even though Cait was the one who literally left Vi to rot in a hole to continue her quest to kill Jinx, she immediately agrees to stabbing Ambessa in the back and just seems to forget entirely about what she's been doing for the past 2 and a half episodes?? It just felt like her mentorship with Ambessa, her 'relationship' with Maddie, and her obsessive search for Jinx were kind of tossed aside in favor of her and Vi making up.

Don't get me wrong, I love to see them together again, but I'm so confused as to WHY they're back together already. Not to mention Cait's reaction to seeing Jinx again is so tame in comparison to how much she seemed to despise her an episode ago.

Another Episode 6 example: Jayce... What the fuck?

I know we'll probably get context and exposition in the next few episodes as to where he's been and why he's like this, but still, it feels so strange that he went from sacrificing everything to save Viktor's life in Episode 1 and 2 only to show up and kill him in Episode 6. WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU JAYCE PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW WHY YOU ARE MURDERING YOUR POOR WET CAT BOYFRIEND

My other concern with season 2 so far, is that the pacing/storylines and plot feel really fast? it kind of feels like so many plots were crammed into season 2 that they now only last a few episodes until they finish or are forgotten? Like Isha was only there for 4-5 episodes until she died, Vander/Warwick's existence was built up across 3 episodes only for him to die really soon after he was revealed? Vi's breakup era only lasted for a few minutes in a montage? Viktor's 'Jesus' era had maybe 10 minutes of screentime? the list goes on.

I enjoyed all of these plots and storylines a LOT but I wish we got just a bit more time to appreciate them instead of getting emotional whiplash every episode. And that comes from someone who LOVES emotional whiplash.

To be fair though, none of the 'deaths' I'm talking about are necessarily confirmed yet since they're just implied until the next 3 episodes, So I do hope that at least Vander/Warwick is still alive because we barely got to dive deeper into the emotions the sisters must have experienced after seeing him again.

Anyway, Season 2 is honestly still so good it's a solid 7.5/10 for me so far. It has its flaws but it feels unfair to focus on them too much considering the season hasn't even finished its release yet. So yeah I'm really enjoying myself over here and am frothing at the mouth for the next few episodes to come out. Until then I will be curled up in the corner drawing infinite amounts of Arcane fanart to sate my endless thirst for more of this show.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk and thank you for your patience.