#and going god tier of course

[weirdmageddon]

made one of my bad moodboards for dave

[peaches2217]

I come from a family of singers, and while I didn’t inherit the Actually Good at Singing gene, I used to love singing anyway. I’ve always been an alto, and my deeper voice was always a point of pride for me! I was into musical theatre, and when I would actually be cast, I’d find as many loopholes as possible to sing lower than I was supposed to. I wanted to be a Broadway actress. But I wanted to play women’s and men’s roles. I wanted to be known as the woman who could be a man just as easily and just as flawlessly.

But after a, uh, particular incident at a singing contest, I realized just how much I actually sucked and swore off singing for the rest of my life; I’ve been slowly allowing myself to sing again through my twenties, but never where others can hear.

While my speaking voice hasn’t dropped as much since starting T, my singing voice has. I’ve been testing my low range by singing the opening of The Reincarnation of Benjamin Breeg and seeing how many notes I can actually hit, and I’ve been kinda dissatisfied, because I still can’t hit the bottom notes. But as of late I’ve found myself cranking off into musical theatre pieces whenever I’m alone and cleaning or driving or what have you, and the more I go through, the more I realize my voice is, at present, so much closer to the voice I always wanted growing up.

While cleaning the windows at work, I cranked off on the most hilariously passionately rendition of Who I’d Be, which has always been one of my favorites, but one I could never sing; it went too low, and raising the key took it too high outside of my range. Now? I can hit every last note. Not well, of course, but I never once struggled in the lows. Now I can’t stop singing it, because I’ve wanted to sing it since I was thirteen and now I finally can and I’m needlessly emotional over it.

I dunno. It’s just nice. This is the first time I’ve felt happy about my voice since I was in middle school, and it’s empowering in an odd sorta way.

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[xhanisai]

One thing I've always appreciated from fan-artists is how everyone has their own little twist on how they draw the characters. Be it subtle or major.

It's just so cool.

[im-still-watching-anime]

rip my mom casually asking me what the worst shakespeare take i’ve ever heard was and unlocking a two hour rant at 3 am

[suffarustuffaru]

rating some rezero ships by um. how good they could cover up murder together

(feel free to read my tags for some explanations T^T)

[meringuejellyfish]

people who believe that modern precure is “falling off” are kind of insane i think

[dewfordtownhall]

[ken-katayanagi]

It’s What’s Inside is a solid 4.5/5 for me because I actually didn’t play Cookie Run during it and I took out a piece of paper to write notes. - .5 for being mean to Brooke.

[k3ntarou]

listen to me, look me in the eyes, HELP ME BREATHE

𝗟𝗼𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗸 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱

𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀: katsuki bakugou, denki kaminari

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 18+ mdni, fem!reader // oral (m!receiving), deep-throating, messy blowjobs, mentions of drool/spit, facial (bakugou). established relationships, they're aged up.

masterlist

𝗞𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗜

Getting off your birth control leaves you feral.

Bakugou – slightly confused but nevertheless thrilled by the urgency you exhibit – isn’t quite sure what’s gotten into you as he watches you drool on his dick, looking all snug between his thick thighs when he comes home from work that night. 

Tugging him by the hand as soon as he had stepped foot through the front door of your shared apartment, your perplexed boyfriend hadn’t been even given the chance to kick off his heavy combat boots before you had come running in your adorable pyjama set and socks, colliding straight into his rather startled embrace.

Now, his gauntlets lay abandoned on the floorboards beside the small pile of clothes which you’ve practically torn off of your body in meek attempt of getting yourself naked for him as quickly as possible. Kneeling before him, you’re completely bare whilst making eye contact with the most lust-blown eyes he’s ever seen you own. Your cheeks turn hollow as you suck him off like you’re the thirstiest bitch he’s ever had the pleasure of encountering.

That turns him hot and bothered, but he knows better than to say it out loud. You’re acting like a little whore, licking and swallowing down his salty pre-cum like it’s a delicious treat, and it makes his skin pull taut and his body temperature rise until he wants to tug at the stretchy spandex of his hero suit like a madman. 

But instead of doing that, and thus risking tearing the fabric, he slides his gaze along the arch of your exposed spine; bounces it along the curves of the two plush hills that form your tight peach, which he likes to spank oh, so very much.

Your skin is glimmering with sweat in the mellow light of the TV you were watching just before he had arrived. So pretty.

“Fuck babe,” Katsuki mutters, voice low and raspy – so, so tired, “somebody needs it bad, huh?”

All you do in reply is take him deeper into your mouth; warmth and wetness embracing his sensitivity in an instant. It makes him hiss through gritted teeth, rosy lips pursing when your tongue starts to twirl over the swollen cockhead.

Katsuki sinks deeper into the decorative cushions of the couch, pushing the mask from his eyes and up onto his forehead with one terribly sluggish movement. Spikes of ash blonde bend underneath it as he breathes in deep and sighs. The bruising ache that riddles his entire body persists to linger long after work, but he allows himself to relax by sheer will. 

He’s finally home, spending quality time with his girl. It’s about damn time, he deserves a little break like this one.

Though, he should give you something in return. Right?

When he reaches out and runs his gloved fingers through your hair, you suck him even harder as a reward. Warm spit gathers at the corners of your lips, making them glisten. 

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. He loves how much you love him. It’s so evident, there are literal hearts in your eyes. The pure shitshow that are your hormone levels right now are making you insane in your horny little brain, and it suits him just fine.

All eagerness and urgency to please your pro hero after his tiresome patrol; you’re dragging your pink tongue along the throbbing vein on the underside like a hungry kitty laps at a bowl of cream. He can’t tear his tired eyes off of you. You’re just so nice to look at; slutty and yearning for his cock like that.

But god-fucking-damn it, he’s ready to bust the fattest nut when your lips leave him and you take a deep, shuddering breath that nearly sounds like a little gasp. Your mouth – that sweet, wonderful mouth – wraps around one gloved digit and sucks. Nips. Teeth clench lightly and tug. Until the leather slides off and the calluses on his hand scrape your cheek instead. Skin to skin contact.

If it were anyone else, you’d be worried about germs on the damn thing. But it’s Katsuki fucking Bakugou’s glove you’ve just taken the liberty of putting in your mouth. If you wanted to, you could eat a damn meal off of it, it is in fact that clean and you both know it.

However you; you are nasty. As the leather falls onto the floor with a silent thud, you pucker your lips and spit right onto his fat cock, fingers wrapping tighter around the already slick base. You start to pump: up and down, up and down, up and down – tits bouncing with the movement, hands looking so fucking small compared to his intimidating size.

He’s so red in the face. He can feel the tingle of heat, and he hates it, because now you muse when you look him dead in the eye. And holy shit, the smirk that ghosts over your lips makes him want to smash his head against the wall like the angry bull that he is.

You just provoke him in the worst possible way; provoke him in the best way. It’s no wonder he plans to marry you someday. But judging by how you’re acting right now, he guesses that the baby will come first.

“Look at you,” you taunt him like you’re reading his mind, smiling that tricksy grin that makes his heart want to roar. “Somebody needs it real bad, huh?”

Oh, you little minx.

“Shut the fuck–hah...” He blinks when you grip him tighter and palm him faster, the bridge of his nose scrunching in annoyance whilst he attempts to gather his wits and thus clenches his thighs. He’s so tired, he can’t hold on for much longer. It’s been nearly ten minutes, the time isn’t his best one but fuck it. He’s fucking drained, all right?!

Well, not fully drained yet. But he’s about to be.

“Gonna cum for me?” Your eyes are so glazed as you say it. “Gonna cum for me real good, big boy?”

“Y-yeah.” His exhale is painful as it lodges in the back of his throat, the stutter that had just left his mouth making him see red. He’s going to lose it, he wants his control back. A snarl forms as he grits out, “That is, if you go fuckin�� faster... C’mon, hotshot. Pick up the pace.”

Before you can retaliate with what he guesses is yet another witty remark, he wraps your hair into a tight knot around his beaten-up knuckles and tugs it harshly before he shoves you down. Head pusher, that’s what he is. He’s all fake arrogance despite breaking apart, thumb stroking your cheekbone as he holds you down, down, down – makes you choke.

His hips buck upwards now, nice and steady. He’s fucking your mouth just like you wanted him to as the blazing heat inside his stomach goes loose and he loses himself as a result. And for fuck’s sake, somehow, during all of this, he manages to lose control of his quirk, too. 

Sparks dance atop his broad palm when he releases the makeshift knot of your hair and cups your hot, tear-stained cheek instead. It tickles as it grazes your skin, the heat completely bearable but still hot enough to leave you startled.

It starts to burn rather quickly.

“Babe, no, no, no–” Katsuki grits his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath, “Wait a fuckin’ sec, dumbass!” 

It’s all bark, you yank your head back the moment the sparks touch you for a second time around, and he can’t stop it. It’s too late.

There’s no explosion as his toes curl in his boots and he cums; of course there isn’t, just thick ropes of white. He can handle his quirk just fine, even if the rein sometimes slips from his hands at vulnerable times like these. But there is something else, though.

A facial.

It is an accidental one, to be fair. Still, accident or not, you don’t look happy.

“Sweetheart,” he pants, reaching out. His palm still feels warm from the quirk as the scent of caramel promptly fills the room.

The glare you point at him is nowhere near as sweet.

“Ki, you fucker! You got it into my hair!”

𝗗𝗘𝗡𝗞𝗜

Denki zaps you the moment his dick winds up inside your warm mouth.

The poor man just can’t help it. Even almost a year of steady dating is not enough to get him used to being spoiled by a pretty girl such as yourself. Watching you in all your glory is everything he could have ever wished for, and it makes him so fucking sensitive and dumb in the brain that it’s no wonder his quirk went berserk in mere minutes.

Shit. His quirk went haywire.

The realization actually hurts him more than it hurts you.

The little gasp you voice when the faintest hint of electricity flashes over your cheek as he caresses it in an attempt to soothe you, is enough to make the pro hero begin to drown in pure, relentless panic. Now, the flash of white-hot pain brings tears to your waterline as it lingers on your skin. It doesn’t ache all that much, but instinct prevails and you flinch despite not wanting to.

You can feel it in your teeth.

“Fuck, I-I’m so sorry!” He’s barely keeping his eyes from rolling into the back of his skull as concern falls over his sharp features when the realization strikes as quick as his quirk did. “Did I–... Did I hurt you? Does it hurt…?! I’m s’sorry!”

He’s babbling and slurring on his words because your mouth is once more full of cock despite the initial surprise; plush lips wrapping around the head that’s causing him so much trouble. You’re that adamant on making him cum and he’s just so dumb. It’s lovely, especially as you kiss his dick and mumble out a determined, “Mm-mm.”

Denki isn’t convinced, even when you offer him your best efforts.

“You sure? Wouldn’t it be better if I checked…? Yeah, I should check, shouldn’t I?” His pause only makes his worries grow even more profound. It’s cute but agitating; the way he’s literally talking to himself and losing focus whilst you're attempting to make him relax. “Lemme check.”

“Mmh- It’s fine, you didn’t even zap me all that much, c’mooon!” Pop! – a groan is voiced in protest from your side as you part from him fully with an audible noise and a long string of glimmering saliva that is stubborn at keeping you connected to him no matter the stretch and the vacant space in-between.

Staring at it, the glare you fix for him now makes the yellow in his eyes all the softer. He feels so appreciated because of how badly you wish to please him, he really does, but he just can’t concentrate if there’s even the slightest chance out there of him causing you harm.

Not that he could concentrate at any other given matter. He is buzzing all over as he grips your face to check for any signs of injury and thus leaves you burning in his wake; you can hear the hum of his immaculate power inside your ears.

Up-close, it is frightening. Thrilling. It makes adrenaline course your very blood.

Every touch makes you shudder. The voltage that’s still present isn’t nearly as high as to be considered deadly, but it is potent enough that it makes his hair stand up. It aims towards the ceiling as lightning weaves through every vividly-blonde strand.

Watching him in literal awe, he looks like he’s sunk underwater mid-air. How peculiar. Enticing.

Glowing, your boyfriend's skin is riddled with sparks that crackle and remind you of the static you used to collect on old television screens when you were a child. The entire room feels too small as his overwhelming presence begins to pour in and overtake the room. He’s just so full of life that it’s scary in a way; especially because it seems that he doesn’t realize how strong he actually is.

Pure energy runs through his veins and turns you alert. Turns you needy and horny for more, because he’s like a deity in your eyes, no matter how much he stumbles over his words and how wide his eyes get in concern.

Seconds pass. He’s breathing so hard it’s funny in a way. A chuckle slips out and he follows suit.

It turns into a groan rather fast when you lean down to please him again. Kisses travel along the length of his cock, wet lips pressing small, lovely affections that make him twitch all over as heat begins to pour inside his belly.

“C-cutie, I-...” His voice breaks before he can say anything more. He’s breathless.

“Shh. Focus, dummy.”

You can feel the hint of electricity again as it kisses your tongue when you take him back in. It turns you numb; makes you yearn for more. Thoughts become blurry, saliva turns runny. Even your eyes are rolling back as you feel the lightning fill the hollow of your bones.

His spine goes rigid when you fully commit to making him spill, but he still runs his fingers through your hair so gently it makes your heart flutter. His moans fill the room. Nothing but breathless, hot whines and incoherent curses that stick to the ceiling.

Every smooth flick of your tongue rolling against his sensitive tip is heavenly. Goddammit, just seeing you on your knees – utterly naked and looking up at him through tear-riddled lashes – is heavenly. He’s ready to bust a circuit, quite literally. Especially when you push further down and take him in, in, in, without him even having to ask for it.

Minutes pass. Up and down, in and out. He’s deep in your throat, bulging against your skin and inching closer to your heart with every bob of your head. Oh, what a delight that is.

But it’s a problem, too. Keeping his consciousness sticking together while you’re going down on him is a task that proves to be awfully troublesome for a ditzy man like Denki. The last two brain cells he owns are skipping out of his brain with a quick ‘See ya.’  as your throat tightens around him and you suck even harder.

He hopes they’ll come back after he cums and you wipe your mouth clean.

God knows he could use them.

[lilowoof]

OUGH, these feelings of loneliness have been so strong lately.... going from having someone to talk to here n there to just radio silence kinda hurts, ngl X'D

I've done this song n dance before and IDM waking up to no messages or not having ppl close to me to chat to but still! Having a taste of closeness with ppl, only for it to be ripped out of my hands, by my choice, or theirs, or both just...... It hurts!

Thankfully I do have some great pals whom I can reach out to if needed so it's not like I am 100% alone XDD I guess I'm just trying to readjust to the current situation. And I know that I have the power to reach out to ppl and also to check out events in town to meet ppl! It's hard for me to do those things but I have the power to, gotta give myself grace and take things one step at a time, as I usually do!

I just wish it didn't hurt so badly haha!! (also this is not an invitation for ppl to dm me (unless u really want to for some reason). I just like writing down my thoughts so I can dissect them better and of course not bottle things up, etc etc)

[allpiesforourown]

"The original Bingge bringing his own Shen Yuan to the PIDW world" is such a god tier concept because we know Luo Bingge is a dead beat dad with a million kids all from different mothers. Imagine being Binghe's son via concubine #84 lactation kink chapter and the emperor, your father, divorces your mom because he fell in love with an alien twink.

Then you go to chew him out for being an absent father who gets sex pollened all day instead of teaching his kids algebra, and you find his new boytoy with him. And your shitty terrible dad's new wife. Is an angel.

Of COURSE when Shen Yuan sees a mini-Binghe, he'd coddle the boy endlessly while Binghe seethes in the back, beefing with his own son over shizun's attention. Shen Yuan's headpats. Him happily teaching Binghe's kids. Letting them all pile up around him while he reads from a story book.

It's the evil stepmother trope but in reverse - everyone who meets Shen Yuan is crying, "You have to leave my father, you deserve better!!!"

[elio-monroe]

i think a lot about trans alperen tbh. like lots of different flavours of trans too. but i also love him being cis and wanting to present as gnc so badly and being unable to unless in private. and i like his tiny dick, tiny dicks are very gender to me

[baeshijima]

thoughts on being engaged to duke!sunday, the head of the oak family, an incredibly influential figurehead within society, the close subordinate of emperor gopher wood who brought him and his sister in and raised him like his own, and the villain who faces a tragic ending in a novel you recently finished — the very same one you just so happen to find yourself transmigrated into. he is as cunning as he is blinded, a trait which brought ruin to many in the empire, and one which ultimately brought ruin to himself at the hands of the protagonists.

as luck would have it, you became a barely mentioned side character from a marquis family, whose role was to be the villain's wife stuck in a one-sided love who, too, would get caught up in the tragedy alongside him. however, now that it's you who is stuck in this position, you're determined to try any means necessary to deter him from going down that path, all in an effort to escape your predestined doomed fate!

of course, you didn't expect it to be easy. the day of your arrival in this world was already the night before your wedding, so you had little time to prepare yourself for the nonchalance of your supposed family, how they viewed you as but a means — a tool — to boost their influence and prosperity, the dismissive mannerisms of the household servants, and the absolute beauty of a man you will be married to.

(seriously. the novel descriptions did not do him justice. he was like... like... like he was handcrafted by god himself! and not to mention his sister, robin, was the very epitome of an angel! perhaps you're destined to perish by the god-tier visuals instead...)

to say the least, the wedding ceremony went by quickly. safe to say you didn't spend the night; he was cordial and gentlemanly upon letting you know that he won't do anything until you're ready, that you can take this relationship slow, but somehow you ended up feeling a tad insulted. like, who leaves their newly wedded alone in a big cold bed as they walk out on their own? a sick bastard that's who!

well, whatever. it's not like you need nor want to consummate with him! besides, you have bigger things to worry about — things such as your impending death. and, of course, the only way to stop sunday that you can imagine working is by chipping away at his resolve bit by bit, and opening his eyes to reality.

he is a tragic character, one who cares more about the well-being of penacony and its people than anyone else, but was manipulated into getting his hands dirty in the emperor's stead. you knew this. you sobbed over his story, cursed out the protagonists, and even fought internet randos on novel forums about sunday's motivation and how,

no, he is not just a stupid villain. he is a complex character with flaws and humanity and was cruelly taken advantage of by someone he considered family. he was deceived through the suffering the emperor wanted him to see to make him easily manipulated, creating a rift between him and robin to have that prominent separation. you know what? maybe you're just a !%#@ who can't even #@?"% read properly!

and yet you still find yourself at a loss when faced with the walls he has in place. your initial efforts went as well as it possibly could have; you trying to earnestly help him, while he "kindly" dismisses your offers! well, "kindly" being more condescending since you could read between the lines of his mannerisms and amiable demeanour, but that's fine! you expected this! that just means you have to double down on your sincerity, get through to his heart (somehow), and help him realise humanity isn't as weak as he's led to believe!

you have three years until the novel's plot officially starts, and another year after that until your demise. that's plenty of time to get him to warm up to you!

it was easier said than done, but after your valiant effort and abundance of time put into this relationship, which admittedly you could do with some of that lost time back, you could give yourself a pat on the back with the progress you made! while you definitely could have done without a lot of the headaches, it's safe to say sunday has significantly warmed up to you in comparison to your wedding day. he now willingly eats all his meals with you with some real conversation, takes garden strolls with you in the early evenings, invites you out for dinner at a restaurant at least four times a week, hell he's even joked and laughed with you more frequently! but most importantly, he has begun asking for your opinion before finalising any decisions he is required to make. and he actually listens and considers your side! now, that certainly is the best outcome you could hope for after all this time, and it most definitely will help in your endeavour to save you both from the protagonists!

however, you've noticed he's been more... affectionate? well, at the very least he now willingly holds your hand when in private (not just in moments when you're in the public eye and he has to make sure the family's reputation is spotless), sometimes he will hug you out of the blue ("i just need to... recharge. you have a way of calming me down. i hope you don't mind." ...how could you say no to his supreme god-tier face card? that's just a losing battle you won't even bother fighting against.), oftentimes he opts to just gaze wordlessly at you (robin had mentioned over one of your tea times how it almost appears as though there is no one but you in the world when sunday gazes at you with, in her words, "the eyes of a man so deeply in love!" ...whatever that's supposed to mean...), but a more recent development has been his sudden interest in kissing you; well, more specifically giving you a kiss to the back of your hand or on your forehead — certainly not anywhere near the lips! (besides, he's probably just gotten comfortable with you, enough where he can freely act without judgement. nothing more, nothing less.)

well, either way, development is development! soon enough, the time for the main plot to start has arrived. it of course follows what you remember, from the organised balls to the protagonists meeting to the political aspects of it all. the only difference is sunday's less active involvement in all the schemes and the emperor's ploy. rather, he seems more focused on you and the future of your marriage and even displayed a sudden interest in your practically non-existent relationship with one of the foreign diplomats, aventurine— wait...

"[name]," he calls your name out so sweetly you nearly disregarded it as someone else he was talking to. well, perhaps you would have done had he not suddenly appeared before you, a tight-lipped smile tugging the corners of his lips as he steadily approaches you.

oh. he doesn't seem very happy, if his tense figure is anything to go by. you wonder if one of the nobles grated his nerves a little too much this time?

sunday comes to a halt a step away from you. "i don't like that... gambler being so close to you. it... it brings me a rather unpleasant feeling." there's a slight, trembling pause. not a moment later does he close the gap between you, one knee on the ground as he matches your seated height on the fountain rim, your hands gently enclosed in both of his.

you idly wonder if this is what robin meant by the so-called "eyes of a man so deeply in love" she constantly gushed about, for the way in which he gazes up at you is enough to render you breathless.

"tell me, [name]," he begins once more. there is an underlying desperation woven within his tone, one which has your head spinning and heart thumping wildly as his trembling gaze holds you in place. "tell me, what am i to do with this fervent love and overwhelming adoration i hold for you?"

oh.

...oh.

perhaps your impending doom should be the least of your concerns when you now find yourself in the arms of a clingy husband...

(though, it's safe to say you did, in fact, manage to prevent him from succumbing to his tragic fate! you just gained a loving, yet slight slightly emotionally challenged husband along the way.

well, you can help him work through it; you have the rest of your lives now to figure it out, after all.)

[nikibogwater]

Actually while I'm thinking about it, I just wanna say that the more live-action remakes Disney shlups out like shoveled manure, the more amazed I am that Cinderella (2015) exists. It breaks literally every standard of Disney's LA remakes.

It's not a shot-for-shot remake of the original 1950 animated film, though it does include small references and homages to it, but only when such things can be incorporated organically into the story.

The creators understood and respected the cross-cultural significance of the Cinderella story. They didn't want to "fix" it, or add some wacky twist to it, they just wanted to make the best possible version of the Quintessential Cinderella that they could.

Everything that could be done practically was done practically. The carriage was a real, the horses pulling it were real, and all of the other animals (with the exception of the mice and lizards, since their performance was a lot more involved than the others') were real living animals, the lizard footman and goose carriage driver were wearing prosthetics instead of just having their animal features added in post, the Fairy Godmother's dress had little LED lights sewn into it so that it would actually glow for real, the ballroom set was built by hand and included real chandeliers with more than 2000 total candles that were all actually lit for the scene, and I could go on but you get the point.

There's a ton of attention paid to little details that make the world feel real and lived in. Ella's shoes are always a little scuffed and dirty. Her farm dress is faded and wrinkled. When she breaks down and runs away to the woods, she rides her horse bareback (which, once again, was a thing Lily James actually did, no stunt-double or editing in post), because not only is that something a country girl like her would know how to do, but it also makes sense that with as upset as she is, she wouldn't want to waste time with saddling the horse. When she's dancing with the prince, it's visually obvious that he is leading her and giving her cues because of course Ella wouldn't know the latest ballroom dances, and would need him to guide her through it.

Hey speaking of dancing, y'know what else this movie does that no other LA remake has been allowed to do (at least not to this extent)? ROMANCE. Land sakes alive, this is one of the most unabashedly and yet still tastefully romantic movies I've ever seen. Ella and Kit are just oozing romantic chemistry from the moment they lock eyes for the first time. It all comes down to the fact that these two characters both have the same core values of courage and kindness, which makes their admiration for each other feel grounded and believable. Richard Madden also really sells Kit's feelings for Ella with the way his eyes go all big and soft whenever he looks at her. And don't even get me started on Lily's performance as Ella. Her quiet awe that someone as powerful as the prince loves her. The timidity and fear that she's not really worthy of that. The selfless determination to protect him from her family's cruelty, even if it means she'll never see him again, I'm just-- *banging my fist against the table and screaming into a pillow*

Absolutely god-tier costume design. No notes, I think Sandy Powell's work speaks for itself. Btw, in case you were somehow still wondering, yes, Ella's ballgown is fully practical--those layers upon layers of dreamy silk skirts are real. CG was only used to brighten up the blue color to make her stand out from the crowd more.

Wicked stepmother was allowed to actually be wicked. The movie never tries to make you sympathize with Lady Tremaine, or shift the blame off to someone else. And her villainy is given an extra layer of depth with the reveal that she is a dark reflection of Ella. They've both lost people they loved, but where Ella refused to let her grief get in the way of kindness, Lady Tremaine became utterly consumed by it. She views the death of her first husband as a sort of twisted justification for pursuing all her worst impulses. She despises Ella for her ability to flourish even while enduring terrible suffering, for being everything Lady Tremaine was either unable or flat-out refused to be.

Also Cate Blanchet absolutely SLAYS in this role. Hands-down my favorite portrayal of the wicked stepmother character.

Anyways, TLDR: Cinderella (2015) is the only Disney live-action remake that can justify its own existence and that's because it actively defies everything the LA remakes are today.

[godzexperiment]

nix 100% could fill multiple notebooks with both fully formed and completly not even half formed ideas to kill his maker (especially in verses/moods where it's like 'so help me if that piece of shit goes back on it and returns i'm going to be real furious' *cough* the ones where it was an especially horrific existence up in heaven especially *cough*)