#don't know how it fits yet but I still think it was a good addition that can be worked with

[heavenlyascent]

AU where Cid helps Ifalna escape Shinra with Aerith and Sephiroth and they grow up in Rocket Town, and become pilots like they're stepdad. Getting to see the world they were constant denied from above. Sephiroth reaching out towards space to understand himself and Aerith traveling through a sky she no longer finds daunting.

Cid Highwind and his two very weird kids.

[yeyinde]

Brain went brrrrrrrr

Price and the new 141 member getting into an argument. Price is all like if you don't behave ill take you over my knee girl.

She's all like I fucking dare you or you'll have to catch me first or even you don't have the balls.

🫠🫠

i’ve always wanted someone who was super by the book to clash with John “i routinely tell my superiors i’m going to maim/murder/hang them” Price. this gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. 

noncon spanking. abuse of authority. power imbalance. size kink. mean, dom!Price. forced submission.

You have this way of getting under his skin. 

An impossible itch. No matter how many times he picks and prods at his flesh, you worm beneath the dermis, burrowing deep. Sitting pretty against his goddamn bones. Festering. 

Incurable. 

He turns to vice to stem the irritation. Cigars. Whiskey. His hand shoved down his trousers like he's a fuckin' boy and not a man on the wrong side of forty. 

Thinking of you—of breaking that smart mouth of yours on his cock. 

It's the way you saunter around with your head held high, balancing golden eggs on your crown, that irks him something awful. The patronising drawl when you huffily remind him that what he's doing is breaking seven, no, ten, different laws, Price. You can't just do whatever you want, there are rules—

And that's the crux of it. 

A difference of ideas. Experience. You still see the world in shades of black and white. Good and bad. Unwilling to acknowledge that the line between is saturated and blurred. A putrid muck that traps all. Bogish. 

He knew it was a mistake when they sent him your file, asked if he needed the additional help. Hostage negotiator. He's heard of you. By the fucking book. You recite passages like it's gospel, turning printed words into a knife. A terrible fit for a team that works in the pivotal no man's land you claim doesn't exist. 

Yet—

He takes you on. Brings you in. Buries his anger at your fucking gall deep in his chest where it rots. Grows. Swallows down the rage, apoplectic fury, when you undermine him at every opportunity, citing laws and regulations like it's a fucking prayer. 

A calamitous decision, he knows. Terrible. But—

Despite it all, you're good at what you do. Brilliant. A budding rose germinating in fecund soil. You'll grow into something wild, won't you? Something untamed. 

Under his hands, you'll bloom the prettiest. He knows this deep in his bones. But—

“You're breaking the rules, Captain—”

—pedantic little thing, aren't you? 

Obediently following the wrong master. 

It irks him. He's been known to step on the toes of his superior officers for less, caustic words hissing foul from between his teeth. 

But unlike them, you're worth something. Even as the moral antithesis to his utilitarian dogma, he sees your potential. How you can shape this world dangling on a brittle thread if you lay down your senseless principles and follow him. Listen to him. 

But of course, you don't. 

And he supposes he ought to have known better. It's dripping gasoline over an open flame. The sequence of events is easily premeditated, seen, when you refuse to listen to what he says (“it's against the law, Price!”), walking away from him, his team, the mission, and take matters into your own, morally righteous hands. Bringing his underhanded methods to the desk of your superior officer, demanding he be investigated for crimes. The result is a loose warning from someone in a suit several sizes too big for them, and your fury when he pulls you back, has you assigned to another mission with the 141, with himself. Preens at your glower when you march back into his office, into his hands. 

In the fallout, he has no one to blame but himself, really. Anyone could have seen this coming. But the thing about shirking his morality in favour of a better outcome—above all else—is that he doesn't have to. 

And so, he doesn't. 

No. He blames you. 

(How perfect for him, then, that there's no one on base except you and him.)

“If you think I'm not going to report you again if you do something illegal, Price, you're wrong.”

He scoffs, shaking his head at your fucking audacity. 

"Better watch that mouth of yours, Sergeant, or you won't like what happens next." 

His palm itches when you look up, offering him a slow, feline blink. Leonine eyes creasing at the corners. 

"And what is that, sir? I'm just doing my job—" it's whispered breathlessly, all faux professionalism even as jest leaks down your brow. They pinch, then. Drawing together in a mockery of confusion. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?" 

"What is that, mm?" He mocks, arms folding over his chest. He has to breathe through his nose for a moment. Gather himself together before he does something reckless, something like— 

It's the defiant little jut of your chin that does him in. That unravels this fraying knot of control until threads slip through his fingers. Falling too fast for him to clench down on them. 

He's threatened his superiors for far less. His kin, teammates. You have no one to blame but yourself for this, really. No one at all when he pulls his hand from where it's tucked under his armpit, curling rough, worn fingers around your wrist. Pulls you close, wrenching you into his chest until your nose bumps the buckle of his vest. 

"'m'gonna take you over my fuckin' knee, is what's going to happen." 

Your swallow is a gunshot. “You—you wouldn't dare—”

He leans in close, closer still. Breath scorching over your cheek. Preening when you bare your little teeth at him. “Wanna bet on that, Sergeant?” 

It's easier than he would have expected to wrangle you over his knee, pinning you down with an arm across your lower back. The height of his chair keeps your front bent, belly pressed against his thigh. Ass seated perfectly in his lap. Precious gem. 

He hums low in his throat, teeth sinking into the butt of his cigar as he locks you tight against him. Grabbing your wrist, twisting it up behind your back. Holding steady. A warning. 

The dangerous twinge in your bone stills you. 

One wrong move and he'd snap it in half. 

This has you taking a different approach, legs falling limp over the armrest. Head dropping over the other side. Malleable in his grasp—however artificial it is.

“Price—” you breathe, winded. Panic on a spindle. “What are you—what do you think you're doing—?”

He hums, mouth tense around the cigar. Words muffled, slurred. “What I should have done a long time ago.” 

“What—hey!”

Your words pepper off into a choked scream when his other hand falls to the hem of your pants, grabbing the fabric in his fist. The shock fades into indignation. Anger. He tastes it in the air as your hips squirm, legs kicking at nothing. Furious little growls spilling from your lips as you thrash, unconcerned by the ache in your bone. 

“Better keep still, love,” he taunts, mouth curling over his teeth as he twists his hand high, higher, up the small of your back until your fingers brush the skin between your shoulder blades. Any more and he'll break it—

“I'm going to fucking—!” It ends on a whine. A whimper. The pain makes you shiver. “Fuck, fuck—stop, stop, ow, stop—!”

“Not a fan of a little pain then, mm?” 

Your breath is ragged. Paints the air in a fine mist of defeat. He has you. The only option out of this is breaking your bone, a threshold no one is willing to cross. 

Price purses his lips back around the cigar, inhaling once, thrice, before he slips his fingers out of the hem of your trousers, reaching up to take hold of the cigar. It's all so matter-of-fact. So nonchalant when he places it in the ashtray. When he brings his heavy, warm hand back to your ass, curling his fingers beneath the fabric. Pulling. Tugging. 

They come off easier than he'd expected. A harsh tug, and the cleft of your ass is revealed. Plush skin curving enticingly as he rips them down to mid-thigh—panties and all. 

The shock fades back into indignation. You hiss something foul under your breath that makes him huff out a chuckle. 

“Not really in the position for that, are you, love?” 

“Shut up—”

He likes the way you sound like this. Feral. Furious. There's ash in your throat. It blots soot around each word, giving them weight. Gone is the woman who barged into his office, sniffing like you smelled something foul. Backing him into a corner. Sputtering in his face about rules. Regulation. 

Now you're bare-assed, panting, in his lap. Small little fawn in the maw of a bear. But oh, do you fight back—

Teeth bared, indignation bleeding into embarrassment, blotting pink in the whites of your eyes.

The sight is hewn into his hindbrain. 

“Look at you,” he purrs, petting your cheeks. “Been beggin’ to be bent over my knee since you got here, haven't you?” 

“Begging? Don't be—ahh!”

He brings his hand down with a small huff, eyes glued to your flesh. Watching it shake under his hand. The width of one swallowing up an entire cheek. So big is he that you're nearly made infinitesimal in his clutch. The thought makes him groan.

You squirm more in shock than discomfort. Head craning over your shoulder, eyes misting over with tears. Glaring at him. 

“What the fuck, Price!”

He strokes your skin, feeling the heat of your flesh bleed through his palm. Resilient little thing, aren't you? He huffs again, blood buzzing. Electric. There's a kindling fire in his guts. Embers sparking, catching. 

He can't deny how badly he's been wanting to have you like this. Craving your tears, your agony, your submission.

“Count,” he barks out, rough. Abrasive. “You're getting ten. Count ‘em for me, and if you miss one, I'm adding two more.”

“You're crazy, you're—!”

His hand comes down again. The impact shakes the fat of your ass. The strike makes you yowl, thrashing to get away. You don't get very far, still trapped in his hold. The threat of a broken bone keeps you from lashing out too wildly, and all you can really do is sit in his lap, and take it—

The notion has him groaning low in his throat. Something wicked spooling in his veins. Wanting. The sight of you heaving, bare-assed, and begging for mercy unleashes something inside of him. Something primal. Starving. 

Price takes a breath to steady himself, head buzzing. Heart pounding. It feels like the euphoria of nicotine—all bliss, sedation. Ease. 

Cathartic. 

“I said count,” he rasps, words cinder in his chest. Smoke. Dragged up from that burning pyre in his belly. Nocuous, hungry. “That's an order, Sergeant.” 

His hand is scorching against your skin. Thoughts turning over themselves as you hiccup in his lap. So pretty, he thinks, eyes flitting over to you. Taking in the sight of your shock, your denial. It tastes like fine wine on his tongue. Heady. 

“Here comes one—”

“One?”

“I told you, didn't I?” His nail rakes across your skin, cruel. Mean. Something preens when you gasp. Your pain perfuming the air. “M’addin’ two more if you don't count. Thought your speciality was listenin’?”

You scowl, twisting back to level him with an awful sneer. “Oh, fuck you—!”

His hand comes down again, harder this time. Vicious. The scream is tangled in your throat, gagged. He feels pleasure—dark and ugly—bloom in his chest, dripping, liquid, down the length of his spine. The twist of agony on your face is beatific. 

“Not gonna count?” He taunts, pinching your inflamed flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “We're gonna be here all day at this rate, love.”

He leans down, broad chest curling over the small of your back, hand cupped possessively over your cheeks. “But maybe you want that, mm? Maybe all this, mhm, insubordination has just been for show. You wanted this. Wanted to be taken over my knee—”

“You're wrong. I haven't—” it tapers off into a squeak when he pinches your flesh again. 

Price pulls back, breathes shallowly through his nose. 

“You and that smart fuckin' mouth. Told you it was gonna get you in trouble—”

He doesn't wait. His hand rears, and comes down with a loud smack that echoes in the sparse office he has you trapped inside. Your howl races alongside it, curling up the walls. Beautiful in all its agony. 

“Christ—” it's a dagger to his resolve. You sound so fucking good howling like this. Oscillating between feral anger and pain, hissing vitriol between clenched teeth. Choking on sobs. 

The first few are experimental. Testing the waters. Feeling. You're combative during it all. Fighting. Screaming. Each strike is uncounted, echoed only with a plea for help. One he knows won't come—

The only person on base is his Lieutenant. Ghost knows better than to barge in on his affairs. 

“No one's comin’, love,” he grunts, sweat beading along his hairline, dripping down his temple. The room heats along with the blood in his veins, stifling and oppressive. He reinforces each hit with more strength, increasing the tempo until you're screaming on his lap, begging for mercy, mercy, please, please, Price stop, stop—

Your skin raises with each new strike. Swelling. Becoming inflamed. The perfect imprint of his handprint sits on each cheek, edges intumescent. The globes shake, shuddering deliciously under each hit. 

He gets to eleven before you break. Tears streaming down your face, voice a threadbare whisper. Hoarse from screaming. 

His hand rains down, slaps your left cheek so hard it stings his hand. Burns. You whimper. Mewling. Squirming on his lap, and then—

“O–one—”

He grunts, feels himself thicken in his trousers. “Good girl.” 

You shudder, body breaking out in goosebumps. “Price—”

“Ah, ah, love. You're not allowed to speak unless you're counting.”

He hits you again, cock throbbing when you tense up, sniffling. Grinding out a soft two between trembling lips. 

You don't break the way he wants you to. There's a glare on your face despite the tears, the sniffles. A defiance that burns over the bridge of your nose. 

But that's fine. He has eight more strikes to ruin you, doesn't he? 

He sets to it with a low moan, your pelvis pressing taut to his tumid cock, the friction raging in his guts. 

But that, he finds, isn't really the point. No. The pleasure, the arousal, is secondary to the way you fall to pieces at his hand. Flesh stinging his palm with each loud smack that rings out sharply in the room. Uneven breaths. Shuddering little ah-ah-ahs that tumble out through clenched teeth. 

It's addictive, this. Therapeutic. 

There's static in his head. White noise. It renders everything else mute. Moot. Molasses drips down, thick and entrenching, congealing over every churning thought in the back of his head. There's a sense of peace, ease, he hasn't felt in years. In decades. 

He feels his belly knot each time your ass jiggles, skin bulging up from the trauma of being hit so harshly. Chafed under his palm. Welts forming in the shape of his hand. A tattoo you'll have for weeks when he's through with you. Aching each time you try to sit. And fuck—

You'll think of him. Of this. Being taken over his goddamn knee like the bad fucking girl you are. Broken in over his lap. Helpless. Submissive. 

The whimpers fade, replaced with shallow hiccups. Your throat is torn. Raw, ruined, by your screams, yowls. Each rasping whine sends jolts of pleasure down his spine. Liquid want molten in his marrow. 

“S–seven, nngh—”

The moan slips out—scorched, bleached—and drills deep into his loins. 

He peels his gaze away from your blistered skin, glancing at your face, but you duck from his view. Hide. Dropping your head over the armrest. Evading him. 

It's new, this. This meekness. 

You were so combative, so feral before. His gaze rakes down the expanse of your spine, over the curve of your cheeks, before settling, hot and heavy, at the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. You squirm in his lap, thighs sliding together. Rubbing. It's no different from before when he'd spank you, but—

He catches it. 

It glints in the soft light when you move, and he feels something dark, ruinous, curl in the tar-stained fibrils of his chest. Congealing in the crevasses. Hardening. 

Price flicks his tongue out, swiping over his lower lip. The bristles of his beard graze the soft flesh, prickling across it. His throat is suddenly dry. Parched. 

His hand comes down again, notably softer than the other hits he subjected you to. Almost—

Tender. 

This isn't meant to hurt. Not this one. 

He strokes his finger over your skin, cock throbbing with the rasping gasp that spills—a twisted amalgamation of pain, skin still smarting, burning to the touch, and—

His lashes flutter. Nostrils flaring. 

Your slick, wet, between your inner thighs. 

He slides his hand down, down, until your ass cheek is cupped in the bracket of his thumb and forefinger. Nestled tight. A perfect fit. The sight of your skin—soft, so soft—against his bearish, hirsute paw is sickeningly addictive. He grunts, pressing his thumb into the crease between your cheek and thigh. 

“P–Price—”

And then he pulls, moaning deep in his chest as he peels the fat of your ass away, unveiling your cunt to his rapacious gaze. Fuck—

“What’s this?” He taunts, breathless. Pinched. You squirm, trying to press your thighs together. Hiding your pussy from his scorching stare. He doesn't let you. “Gettin’ off on me spankin’ your arse?” 

“N–no, I'm—”

He pushes his thumb up, sliding it over your skin. Gathers your slick on the tip. “Don't lie to me, mm. You're fuckin' soaked.”

The air is punched from his lungs. Spills out in a wretched grunt. In the vacuum, something grows. Knots. Festering inside his chest. Animalistic. Primal. There's an itch in the back of his head. 

He lets go of your arm, knows you won't run. Won't try to escape. No. 

You're a good girl, aren't you? One who does what they're told. Follows orders. It tangles in the soporific slurry of his head, pitching a bivouac of need when you bring your arm down, curling it through the gap of the armrest, holding tight. 

Bracing yourself. 

His hum breaks in his throat. He drags his hand away from your cunt, reaching for the snuffed cigar idling in the ashtray. There's a fever in his veins. It makes his hand tremble. Shake. He needs the blunted drag of nicotine to quench this heady anticipation blooming in his guts. A brumous storm gyring inside him, an incipient maelstrom of want thickening. Intensifying. Threatening to spill over. 

He needs something to steady himself before he tears into you like a beast—

You cock your head over your shoulder, staring at him with eyes drenched in midnight ink. There's a flicker across your tear-stained expression. Something coy. Feline. Leonine. 

There's nothing said. Nothing needs to be. He finds what he's looking for in the fracture of your mien, and scoffs under his breath at your sheer gall. Little fuckin' minx. 

Tobacco proves to be a paltry facsimile when he draws in a bursting mouthful. The restive glow of it dulled under the adrenaline coursing through his veins, heady. Syrupy. A roaring deluge of anticipation broiling in the balmy air, crackling around him like a storm cresting over the horizon. Ozone saturates in the thickening atmosphere. 

Something will break. Shatter. 

He tenses, waiting for the first stormcloud to breach, and drops his hand back to your tender ass. Stroking over the raised welts just to make you gasp. Your hips flex under the shocks of pain riveting down your spine, undulating in his lap. Pitched perfectly over his cock. 

His breath shudders through a needlepoint. The friction is electric. 

In petty retaliation—and just to see you squirm—he trails his knuckles over your heated skin, luxuriating in the way you shiver. Head falling back down over the armrest, beautifully alluring in your vulpine submission. His fingers dip between the cleft of your cheeks, feeling the slickness sticking to your soft, sensitive skin. Soaked between your thighs. Wretched girl. 

His index and middle finger slide over your slit, parting your folds. He feels the small pulses of your drenched hole against his flesh when he slides over it with the press of his fingers. Eager little thing.  

He hums under his breath at the sight of his hand seated across your hand, fingers shoved between the globes of your smarting ass. Soft and tender to worn and gnarled. The cropping of dark hair over his knuckles, his hand, against your bare skin is obscene. The picture of sin with your stricken flesh and his thick veins. The contrast curdled in the back of his head, morphing into something ugly and wanting. 

Idly, he thinks of making you bounce your sore ass on his lap later, your pussy swallowing up his fat cock. Taking it all the way to the root. Over and over again. Breaking you on it until you're begging for mercy, until this little attitude of yours is crushed between his teeth. 

Slick gathers against the rough pads of his fingers, drenching them. The hair on his knuckles is matted down, wet with your arousal. Naughty girl. He'll make you pay for that. 

And for the puddle seeping into his trousers. 

You mewl when he slips, sliding over your clit. The noise spilling molten over your lips, bludgeoning into his loins. 

He drags in another mouthful of smoke. Lets it rot between his teeth as he drops the cigar into the ashtray once more, attention riveting to the slip-slide of your slick thighs rubbing together for friction against your aching clit. Cunt pulsing needily against his hand. 

You haven't learned a damn thing at all, have you? 

Smoke funnels out of his nostrils when he growls. “Spoiled, aren't you? Need to be taught a lesson in respect.” 

“I, ah, am respectful, Captain—” 

He sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. This lippiness of yours grates on his nerves. He wants you begging for mercy, limp in his hold. Pretty doll. Waiting obediently for him to put you back together again. Soft and submissive at his heel. 

“Got three more to go, love.” You shiver when he strokes over your ass. Petting gently with wet, tacky fingers. “If you're a good girl and take it for me, I'll play with your pretty cunt, mm. You'd like that, wouldn't you?” 

Price brings his hand down, grunting when you moan out his name. Sharp and needy. Your plaintive posturing is a spark inside a tinderbox. 

“E–eight.” 

The next one is harder, sharper. The force twinges his joints. Rattles through his bone. 

It's unexpected, and the pain makes you yowl, body drawing tight like a bow. There's no pleasure when it's like that. No friction against your cunt. It's just—

“Price—!” You yelp, shrill and distressed. The lead up to this has been child's play. A soft hand to tender a nervous mare. 

His old man taught him to never strike with the whip first but to wean them slowly. 

He waits, humming mockingly to your pettering whimpers as you heave, tremulous, into the air. Shuddering in his grasp at the aftershocks of agony rippling through your body. 

Waits. Waits. And—

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, cooing low and condescending when you gasp, craning your neck to level him with an imploring, pleading stare as you stammer out a frenetic nine in a breathless rush. Tears soak your lashline, clumping them together when you blink through another deluge pooling against the rim. Your lip wobbles. The stream breaks, spilling over. Fresh tears run down your wet, sticky cheeks. 

There's real panic in the whites of your eyes now. That haughty, pedant gleam buried under pyretic desperation. Gone is the coy twist to your lips. The wily little bloom of amusement in your gaze. 

Aw, poor thing. But—

Too late. “You didn't count. You know what that means, love.” 

That knot in his chest unfurls, and leaks acid into his lungs. This want is corrosive. A poison. The sob breaks through your chest. The first thunderclap. He relishes in it. Leans back in his chair to bask in the potency of your unmaking. 

“Good girl,” he husks out, burning lungs spewing black smoke into the air. “Just ten more now, love. Know you can take it for me, can't you?”

Pretty thing. He'll have that haughty attitude snuffed out before the end of the night. Have you begging for his touch, his cock, him, before the sun draws across the horizon. 

Your ruination at his hand. The thought strokes along the kindling smouldering inside of his chest. Burning away at the pyre he's been building since the day he met you. When you looked up at him, pretty in your scorn, and disobeyed his command. Undermined him. So righteous in your fury. A burgeoning flame he wanted nothing more than to snuff out under his heel, and now—

Wide, wet eyes plead with him. “Please, Price. Please, please. I'll be good—I promise I'll be good, sir—”

—ash in the palm of his hand. 

He strokes over your searing flesh, humming softly under his breath. “I know you will, pretty girl—” basks in the hiccup of relief you let out, lets it glue in his ears, echoing over and over again. So sweet. 

He lets your relief live for a moment. Take its first breath of air through aching lungs—

“But I told you, didn't I? That I'd take you over my knee.” Price pats his hand over your cheek, shushing you when you startle, squirming on his lap. 

“Now. Be a good girl and count for me, mm?”

[elizabethrobertajones]

summer scions!! I absolutely love the new portraits for all their smug happy expressions. Except Y'shtola, who is not going to deign to give a camera a proper saucy look because that's silly. Urianger is smirking twice as hard on her behalf.

Glam review under the cut!

I unlocked Alphinaud first of the twins and didn't know Alisaie had a little necktie yet, so I'm deducting a point from my first impression because the sheer delight that he had a silly little necktie of some sort no matter the situation delighted me so thoroughly. Since they're still engaging in matchy twin dressing to some degree, I have to assume they either like it and won't admit it after digging in so hard, or Ameliance sent them off with cute outfits and matching backpacks, and they still don't really shop for themselves.

He's got the practical watch/compass gloves which are good for a technically proficient Sage and probably the most practical gear he's ever worn except for when he was poncho Alphy, but wearing ankle-length jeans seem like the least weather-appropriate choice of the Scions if we assume their average skin coverage is a good weathervane for the temperature in Tural. I chalk it up to teenage awkwardness.

8/10 unless he and Alisaie chose their outfits themselves, in which case it's a 9/10

I think Alisaie is the only Scion to keep a single piece of their default gear, and those are her usual gloves. She's colour-matched around it.

Because of the gloves and boots, she looks the most ready for hardcore hiking, somehow, and her matching Alphinaud with a cute button down shirt with rolled up sleeves along with that particular choice of baggier shorts (when she normally wears more form fitting shorts) do give me the closest to butch vibes it's probably likely to get for main characters. So I'm giving her an extra point I stole from Alphinaud for the lesbian vibes.

9/10 or 10/10 if she made these choices all by herself.

Everything about this cracks me up, from his portrait above to the image of him tanking open shirted once he pulls mobs.

Believe it or not, he's getting an additional point for those shoes simply because the competition in practicality in tanking is G'raha.

I had a moment of excitement when I thought the necklace was pink because that's always a cute Ryne/Minfillia thing fanartists give him with ribbons and such, but once I got zoomed in on him it was red, so I guess he's just been shopping. Although, the turquoise shorts are her eye colour and the actual large diamond shapes are secretly Mothercrystal coded in those colours, which just cracks me up that you can pick out one of the worse days of his life (Urianger's grand Warrior of Darkness plan) in his Chill Summer Beach Vibes look.

Douchebag beach bro shell bracelet as well, which really makes me double down on him and Urianger spending way too much on tourist bait along the stalls in the Famous Turali Market. The hat and sunglasses are giving him one of the Most tourist-y looks thematically reflecting how a lot of the Scion guys were just here to hang out, narratively or literally. Maybe he's trying not to get such an intense tan again, which is the only reason he's not entirely topless.

11/10 I could not stop laughing when I got him and Urianger to 100 and Beheld The Brilliance in the same moment.

Please note the raised sunglasses in Urianger's portrait, which are not the model his character uses.

I am delighted that I had been incorporating that island watch into my healer glams on both the logic you need to know your clock positionals but also they're largely the smarty pants jobs (WHM being vibes only aside - it gets its own glams :P). And here's Urianger and Alphinaud both using watches.

Now, I had a moment of being vaguely disappointed he had trousers not a skirt or something else swishy and androgynous, but then I did realise that I, a nonbinary weirdo who relates to Urianger since he made me nonbinary, have actually gone to a couple of garden parties dressed in some variation of this exact outfit of light trousers and a nice button up. Plus, the earrings are in both ears, so no "Google, which ear is the gay one?", these are just straight up cute femme dangly earrings with his favourite little dudes on.

More importantly, the colours he's repping are those of Lopporit Radio. He probably tunes in every night for his broadcasts :')

Mirrored sunglasses for the guy notorious for keeping thoughts and plans close to his chest and choosing deliberately to be enigmatic even when it serves zero purpose except for I guess gender affirming care. (The gender is Weird Bitch.)

I can't tell how I feel about those dad sandals. I suppose it depends if he's wearing them like a fashion model (brand new and clean with perfect pedicured feet) or if those are REALLY dad at the beach-like and, since I'm not a foot person, this for me is only a choice between "not off-putting" and "AURGH".

9/10 the proximity to Thancred hauls him up several points of misgivings I had, and the lopporit shout outs are killing me :')

I unlocked Y'shtola last and holy fuck I am a lesbian. I don't even recognise where those boots come from, so either a really expensive glam or something I just have not stumbled on. She has toe rings I think? And painted nails? I have no idea if the garter (?) is part of the boots glam or a custom thing as result of not recognising the boots and how much of them is normal. I feel like they customised a lot on her anyway - the back of her top has purple beads that match her staff (not dyable on the real piece)

and I think the necklace has to be part of the top instead of a separate necklace piece with the way it hangs, AND the bracelets are a glove piece with the original summer glam, but I assume they're layered with the false nails, also in the glove slot. All in all it's giving the sort of effort which is starting to creep up to what I'd expect from the modding community not the game. I mean, not THAT good but getting close. Baby steps towards what fandom can make :P

She really is god's favourite meow meow.

Anyway I can't really judge this fairly because it's really hot and I love her so I'm just going to give it 100/10 and move on. :)

how did I get a picture where Estinien looks like he's stooping to get in the frame...

The fact he has Azure Dragoon Blue Top and then Violently Nidhogg Fuchsia shorts is the colour theory that absolutely killed me. When he lights up during his burst and starts glowing pink all over his shorts are like. Taking him over like the eye once did I think.

love a guy who can embrace his past trauma and dress to match all that has passed before and all that he intends to do now (kill something large and tasty, grill it on the beach, fall asleep with a beer in hand until the waves come in and wake him up).

I gave him that wooden bracelet in the glam he has on my desktop screen so once again I'm feeling weirdly vindicated.

Other details: no ponytail despite the warm weather because he's got enough ventilation. The fact there's cactaurs on his shirt when he's on record for eating them is amazing. We should imagine he's wearing his jobstone like that pendant (since he's one of the only guys with a confirmed jobstone despite being the Guy Without A Job notoriously that one time.)

Unlike Thancred's hat and sunglasses combo, which seems fun and boisterous somehow, he seems the most walled off of all the sunglasses wearers even though he's not the most mysterious. The visor really helps make it a sort of wall. Maybe just because his terse upfront personality and somehow despite his clothes horse habits THIS amount of whimsy seems the most out of character at first glance, but he DOES look uncomfortable to me.

Somehow I find everything about this outfit excellent for his character but also like maybe he was forced into it, everyone cornering him and telling him the Scion Beach Party was a mandatory work event and he was not allowed to beg off of it and he did put some work in expressing himself but also is going to go find a much quieter corner to lurk in for the day, when not competing with Thancred (can't grill, loves it) for the barbeque (Estinien can grill, would only do it because the threat of Thancred doing it wrong is too high).

confused 7/10 mostly because I think Krile is blackmailing him and not because I don't love everything about this.

Here's how G'reenha Tia can still win -

Anyway here's the deducted point for tanking in flip flops (PERFECTLY acceptable BLM gear btw but he's Mr Versatile.)

(I joke but the main character of my novels is a flip-flop wearing menace who could and would tank in them)

Between the padlock and key necklace and the woven bracelet right after we all went feral over the Thavnarian bracelets for couples thing so recently (and Corvos is just across the water!) he's absolutely dripping cutie pie love interest coding yet again.

(Also yes I know the lock and key thing is very funny because we were introduced to him learning he was a fancy key to a big door.)

Gains a point back because the other green g'raha thing is I'm pretty sure people use this shirt glam because it kinda looks like it has weed on it.

Don't quote me on that, vibes only.

Anyway he came colour coordinated (with his original eye colour and hair colour not the bright Allagan dalamud red dye that goes with his normal outfit) so so precise and neat, like he's going to some sort of formal event, and even with flip flops he really does seem incredibly put together like the twins or Y'shtola, just for full outfit cohesiveness.

As someone who would hold G'raha's hand on the romantic gondola vibe, 10/10.

3 out of 10 and a huge cringe if you would not. He's got to stop Striving.

Hey it's the star of the show!! Adorable hairstyle out, cute plot-important earring on, and wearing her exact character colours but adorable beach wear :)

I love that she looks kind of like she went to the girls for advice and got the top from Y'shtola and the shorts from Alisaie, and she probably was very serious and stressed about getting this right even though there's no rules and no one's judging her -

oops.

Anyway the ballet shoes are adorable and go with all the cute picto spins and twirls :)

I think the strict colour scheme does speak to the slight lack of fleshing out she got so far in the story (we don't really have any real character reason that picto in particular spoke to her and this glam isn't one of the many fun takes people had on how to dress to meet that brief ). I don't think DT did more than just repeat that she's serious and sweet and trying really hard to get out of her shell and be more fun and creative and also she's been practicing dodging really hard she shouts mid-Trust combat (bless her). But ALSO getting out of the shell is really hard and she only found out everything and got some closure in the final level 100 quests so there wasn't really much to do with her after that.

This is like her First Non-Plot-Critical Whimsy Moment and losing the hood or any cat ears entirely (and there are perfectly functional cat ears to wear in game) is a good step considering we know she wears it precisely because she needed a sort of advance PR campaign to make her look cute and approachable before she opened her mouth and started bringing down the vibe (serious scary children are SO funny though and i love that for her). Having the same top as Y'shtola is a good thing for trying to make her less childish and have her trying to show that now as she takes this huge step out from the background. I mean, it still has a slight sense of her costuming herself and pushing herself out of comfort zones as she always does, but it's 100% in character so I adore it.

1000/10 because Krile is great and there's so much going on here and it's so fun when a character's whole personality is a costume and then they're like aurgh wait do I even want that??

[yanderestarangel]

DUMB MIDNIGHT THOUGHTS - JOHNNY CAGE MK1

NIGHT 4: V!SEX, DEGRADATION.

TW: dirty talk, pussy talk, afab reader, degradation, just a short smut.

You decided to wear something more provocative that night, a short baby blue silk dress that showed the cleavage of your breasts, the construction of the dress was short, giving the feeling that any false step would show you your beautiful ass, in addition to the pantyhose that you wore to make yourself even sexier, and all for a reason: Johnny Cage, your movie actor boyfriend, he asked you to go to an awards show with him so, you thought it was a good idea to tease him a little bit.

You had the perfect makeup, expensive perfume and everything sponsored by him, so he soon saw you leave the apartment, while he practically dropped the cell phone from his hand, his lower lip trembling with desire and the erection quickly evident in the expensive suit from him.

You smiled through the glossy gloss on his lips, as you walked towards him sensually, he knew you were teasing him, and he was loving it.

"-Damn baby, I can't believe you managed to get more beautiful" Johnny said laughing while squeezing your ass hard, not caring if you were still on the sidewalk, you soon felt his fingers go through your lace panties, teasing the soft flesh of your pussy as he massaged your clit lightly

"-Hmm... Those panties make your pussy fat... and I loved that shit" Cage says laughing while his lower lip was still trembling, quickly throwing you inside his black smoked glass sports car, locking the door while. He quickly pulled back your lace panties, exposing the juices glistening hole of your pussy as he quickly fingered the way, making you arch the back of the leather seat chilled by the air conditioning as he grinned cocky at you.

"-So good to me, so wet and receptive, did you really think I wouldn't notice you dressed like that? a pretty slut, dressing like that just to tease me, didn't you (Y/N)? because now you got my attention, you needy slut."

Johnny soon took his rough fingers out of your cunt, making a delicious wet sound as he quickly drew his cock into your eager cunt.

"-Yes kitten, I'm going to fuck you today, as hard as I can, until you're so shaky you can barely walk."

He groaned at the sensation, relishing in the way you fit so perfectly."-Fuck, you're so tight" He grunted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. With one hand still firmly on your waist, he reached up with the other to fondle your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers - Cage wanted to make you feel every sensation, to ensure that you were completely under his control. "-Squeeze me tight, baby... " He commanded, his tone devious yet commanding.

His grip on your arms tightened, his thrusts becoming even more relentless. Johnny could feel his own climax building, the tension mounting to an almost unbearable level. "-Such a good little slut, taking my cock like the obedient toy you are."

He brought his hand to your cheek, caressing it softly before delivering a sharp slap against your flushed skin. "-You're such a filthy, needy little slut. You want my cum, don't you? You want to be filled with me, marked by me." He groaned, his voice deep and guttural, as he emptied himself inside you, the warmth of his cum filling your depths.

"-Such a good little slut... You know how to please daddy johnny, don't you?"

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i am confused

Making this its own separate post + expanding on it so it doesn’t get lost in the quagmire that is the book 7 part 8 update 💀

Feel free to let me know your own thoughts or theories too, I’m just rambling here.

***Spoilers below the cut!!***

So like… Is anyone else confused as to how Silver can use his UM Meet in a Dream so many times with NO ONE making a comment about how he's building up a considerable amount of blot???????

Vargas Camp seems to suggest that using one's UM typically uses up a considerable amount of magic compared to a non-UM spell. (The boys felt it would be dangerous to cast UM without at least a sizable magestone.) This is not true of all UMs though; Kalim's Oasis Maker, for example, allows him to offer up a small amount of magic to produce a great amount of water. So let's say for argument's sake that Silver's UM is similar to Kalim's and does not require a ton of magic per use. (Edit: this detail is confirmed true in the recent update.)

But??? That still doesn't make a ton of sense???? Silver was in constant battles against Silver Owls while in Lilia's dream, meaning he is physically being chipped away at. No matter how physically fit, capable, or well-trained he is, Silver is only human and his stamina and perseverance has its limits. He also suffered immense emotional distress in Lilia's dream after realizing that he is the son of the man who killed Malleus's mother ON TOP of having doubts that he is worthy of Lilia's love AND fixating on how no matter how hard he tries, he can never truly "pay back" his father. I guess it can be argued that the pixies healed them on their trek (+ there was that one scene where Lilia and co. rest in a Silver Owls camp) and that Silver "got over" his feelings after Sebek shouted at him about how much Silver is loved... Even then, that's not really a good explanation??? Silver climbed up those daunting mountains surrounding Castle Blackscale--mountains which have oppressive magic that harms humans. This is POST-pixie encounter, so he'd still be walking in with damage from that, not to mention the blow of lightning magic he took from Maleanor???? I'd also think that while Sebek's pep talk (well, pep shout) helped clear Silver's head, it wouldn't invoke a sudden character change on the spot; Silver would no doubt still have lingering feelings and would need time to properly sort them out and reconcile with them. They haven't been addressed in full yet, at least not until Silver can like get some closure on his own terms, maybe by sitting down and talking with Lilia about everything they learned. (That's definitely a topic for post book 7 though.) Now think about how many times Silver is expected to use his UM. At minimum, he has already used it 4 times (to show up in Yuu's dream, then to hop into Sebek's dream, then Lilia's, then Idia's). In the most recent update, Silver has used it no less than an additional 4 times (to jump from Idia's dream to Epel's, then to Rook's, then to Vil's, then to presumably a Scarabia boy's which is where the next update will likely pick up). THAT'S ALREADY 8 TIMES????? And he has like 11 or 12 more dreams to visit, including having to jump back to Idia’s dream and then prep for fighting Malleus???? It's like 20 times Silver is expected to use his UM, with very little down time in between because... oh yeah, TWISTED WONDERLAND IS ABOUT TO HAVE ETERNAL NAP TIME IF THEY DON'T HURRY TF UP 🤡 That's not even mentioning the increased loads each time Silver casts his UM (since they're collecting students like Pokemon to gang up on Malleus). If previous UMs imply anything, more people should make it more difficult to pull off a spell. Ruggie had to use a magic-enhancing potion to control a whole statium, Cater is strained the more clones he creates at any given time. Jamil's hypnosis magic cast upon a group causes him to accumulate blot so much faster. Shouldn't this be a major concern for Silver??????? Should I be concerned for Silver????????

Don't get me wrong, I love that we're able to dream hop and see what each of the main cast characters are dreaming of, but 💦 I don't know if I should be worried or not about Silver's health???????? Because I could see why the devs would just hand wave it off in this instance (cuz how else are they going to travel to each dream and save the world? They're kind of on a time crunch here...), but at the same time I can see it going the other way and sort of breaking immersion?? Unless this is all intentional and they're going to jumpscare us with a Silver OB or him struggling against it later in book 7 💀 (I mean... the guy hasn't gotten his limited SSR for book 7 yet, so maybe it'll be related to this???)

Or is it just possible for him to break the limits of his magic since this is a dream...? We’ve seen other characters OB at will and be able to seemingly stay rational while in that form... but if that's the case, then why does Silver still feel tired and physically worn down in Lilia's dream after fighting so much? Why do they worry about taking too many hits and actually dying within the dreams? Can't he theoretically stay at "perfect" health after using his magic so much???

Does it not count as using “real” magic since they’re in a dream and therefore have much more flexibility in how they spellcast?? Or is it that it’s their dream!selves casting so it’s not real magic since it’s not their physical forms spellcasting…? Is blot accumulation slowed since Silver is technically sleeping and rest helps with healing from blot?? But then how does that impact their real bodies if at all?

I DON'T KNOW, I'M CONFUSED OTL

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 5

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! Reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

Note : Seek the stars.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

The first quidditch match of the year was gonna start soon, even though you had not such interest in the game, you were still sitting on the bleachers, immersed in your book. Learning everything and more was a motto of yours, you had Fliwick and Slughorn impressed and ready to teach you the advanced stuff. Professor Mcgonagoll was clever yet kind. But it was in defense against the dark arts, you had to strive, cause just as the rumors stated, the teacher changed every single year.

The horn blew and the players entered the field, their green robes flicking beneath their feet as they moved forward. Your eyes swiftly shifted to the newest addition to the Slytherin team, who stood with nothing but a expression etched in stone. That's how it has mostly been since the start of 2nd year, you could only imagine all what happens in the grimmauld place.

Not that you didn't know, you had been exchanging letters most of the system, it was a well established system. After Walburga almost catched your letter, Regulus had sent you a panicked one to not send him one in such a time that his mother might see. Since then, he received your letters at twillight, while you received his at midnight.                                                                                        

The horn blew again, indicating the beginning of the match, all players mounted their brooms and took off soaring. Amelia jumped next to you, "I'm so excited, who do you think will win?"

"Whoever gets the snitch" you remarked, looking at the seekers. It was a Slytherin vs Ravenclaw match, although Regulus was good, the Ravenclaw was a 4th year, so naturally nothing definite could be concluded. Not like you had hopes on any particular one.

Your eyes shifted between the game and the book, until it became too intense and you were solely watching the game. The players flew wildly, with little understanding and Amelia explaining most of it, you were able to conclude some things. The game was in full motion when Regulus stopped mid air, causing the other seeker to stop too and look around in confusion. Regulus raised his hands and in his palm was the golden snitch. The whole side of Slytherin students stood, and jumped in excitement. The match was won.

The after party was held in the common room, filled with people dancing and cheering, you were sitting at the corner, having a rapid discussion with a drunk 6th year, though it did end quickly leaving you bored.

Your eyes wandered until they landed on a tuft of raven hair, who was sneaking out. Considering you had nothing better to do, you sneaked out after him, until you reached the top most floor of Hogwarts, the astronomy tower. Regulus sat on the floor infront of the big balcony, "Aren't you coming?" you jumped at the unexpected noise, he hadn't even turn around, damn him.

You sat beside him, marveling at the stars scattered shining across the plane, the view up here was breathtaking.

"Why are you not at the party" he asked.

"It was boring, besides I saw the star seeker leaving, thought it'd be more interesting" your cheeky reply earned a quiet chuckle, "Star seeker is a bit too snobbish, don't you think".

You shrugged, "I think it's perfectly fitting". You laughed at his groan but then you turned somber,  "Reg"

"Huh" 

"Everything's okay?" you looked at him pointedly, not letting him avoid the topic.

"Why won't it be" he replied avoiding your gaze, "It's the usual, just a bit more" his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me right" you said meeting his eyes.

"I do know so" he replied meeting your gaze.

"Also I forgot, Congratulations on your first match" you said patting his shoulders.  

     

He paused for a moment before grinning, "Give me your hand.

You lilted your hand curiously, extending it, he place the small golden ball on it. "The Snitch" you whispered excitedly, examining it, it was your first time seeing the hogwarts one up close.

Regulus watched your face scrunch in wonder, "You can keep it, if you want".

You  grinned "Really".

Regulus looked with a smug expression, "Yeah, I'm just gonna get more, star seeker remember"

And so he did, Regulus was one of the reasons Slytherin's performance in quidditch improved and went hand in hand or broom in broom with the Gryffindors who had been previously dominating most of the matches.

However nothing changed for good in the house of black, The black brothers looked plauged everytime they returned from may it be for Christmas or summer break. They refused to acknowledge each other, it was as if a force was pulling them apart. Regulus had not tried to talk to Sirius anymore, claiming it would be worthless anyway. It felt wrong for you to meddle inbetween them, so you decided to just be there for him.

Whenever he returned, it would take you days to get back a genuine smile from him, opening him up little by little. If it were up to you you would have taken him out of there, long time ago. But all you could do, and did do was to be there with him, the astronomy tower became yours hangout place. However it may be, you were glad to be friends.  

@shycreationdreamland @mp-littlebit @girlbooklover555 @godofstory @misacc08 @starchaser-lily

[thought--bubble]

Hey, would you write something related to modern Aemond like: Aemond in high school is often excluded and harassed because he comes from a family considered strange and also because everyone has a view that he is strange. The reader is the only one who is kind to him and doesn't ignore him, and this is enough for Aemond to fall in love with the reader, despite never having had a real or very long conversation with her.

Additional: Aemond, despite maintaining a tough attitude, is extremely lacking in affection and is quite sensitive

This Is My First Ask So I Really Hope You Like It! The Characters are not in high school because i only write about adults but they will have originally met there. This got away from me a bit but I had a really good time writing it. I hope you enjoy!

My Salvation

Modern Aemond X (Long Term Crush Reader)

Warnings Under The Cut

Modern Aemond Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: Allusions to Bullying, Car sex, Unprotected sex, Pining. IDK i suck at these any suggestions please LMK

"Everything is perfect" You think to yourself as you get yourself ready for your morning shift at the local coffee shop, and as far as you are concerned it really is.

You graduated from Highschool a few months ago and were ready to start your life as an adult. You had gotten yourself a job at the local coffee shop as well as signed up for the Autumn Semester at the Beauty Academy in Manchester.

Makeup for the stars was your dream and with the acceptance to the academy you felt like you were well on your way to achieving that goal.

Your day starts off like any other. You walk into the coffee shop apron in hand and greet your Co-worker Floris. She was a very popular girl back in your high school and dated the local bad boy Cregan Stark on and off for years.

"Good Morning Floris" You smile sweetly at her as you make your way behind the counter.

"Morning" She sighs letting you know the Floris you get to interaact with today is going to be the moody Floris. Internally you sarcastically thank Cregan for breaking up with her yet again and leaving you to deal with her sullen disposition, but you being the ball of sunshine that you are try and bring up the mood with cheerful banter.

"Has it been busy today?" You attempt to make conversation hoping she will bite at the bit so you don't have to suffer through one of those awkward days where she is silent and brooding through almost the entirety of your shared shift.

"No" she answers short and curt. you briefly rub your fingers against your forehead, if you don't figure out how to get her into at least a little bit better of a mood this is going to be a very long annoying shift.

The bell over the door jingles signaling that a customer has entered the shop.

"its back" Floris says annoyed.

"Stop that" You scold as you look toward the door.

There he is, your most common customer. Aemond Targaryen. He has his long blonde hair tied back and his eye patch on. You never understood why he wears that outdated thing. He must think it adds to his mystery persona.

Aemond is a bit of an oddball. Never fit in much in school. He is after all a Targaryen. The fact that he lost an eye in some sort of childhood accident, made him that much more different than everyone else. Which around here, is never a good thing.

"Hey there Aemond, the usual?" you ask him, your typical bubbly demeanor on full display.

"Yes please"" his answers are always so short and void of emotion. never mean or aggressive just short and cold.

You smile at him happily while you prepare his usual black coffee with tons of sugar. How he drinks his coffee like this you will never understand.

You spoke to Aemond sparingly back in school, which although is most than other students, still wasn't much. You wouldn't say you are friends but you do hold a bit of an affinity for him.

He had a tough time. No one could deny that. He was ignored, ostracized. Not that he would ever let anyone know if that fact actually bothered him, you always assumed that it did. At least to some degree.

You hand him the coffee with a big smile on your face. He takes it from you and nods. Making his way to his usual table and pulling out his laptop.

"Why does he stay?" Floris whispers "It's weird"

You shoot her a pointed look. "It is not weird for someone to sit down and work in a coffee shop, actually, it's quite common. Kindness isn't difficult. you should try it"

"You are aware their family tree doesn't have quite enough branches right?" Floris says while chuckling.

"A lot of royal families have that .... kind of history, they are descendants of royalty. Its been like what? 100 generations or something? Don't you think it's time for a new plot point?"

Floris sighs "He's just .... weird"

You roll your eyes and can't help but glance over at the mysterious man. Watching him type away on his laptop and staring at his side profile. If he wasn't the silent brooding type or a Targaryen the girls at school probably would have been all over him. He is obviously handsome with a jaw line that could cut diamonds. Its that icy chill around him and that albatross of a last name that had him shunned.

As your shift continues you occasionally glance over at him. His coffee long gone but still he stays typing away as other customers come and go.

"What do you think he's working on?" you wonder out loud

"Some version of the Targaryen anarchists cookbook i'm sure..... "

You sigh and roll your eyes again. Why could no one seem to look at the man himself instead of his family? Instead of the eye patch? It seemed so cruel.

"Do you mind if I head out 20 minutes early? Cregan wants to talk" she starts putting her jacket on before you even respond.

"Yeah that's fine, Sara and Jace should be here any minute anyway."

You watch as she quickly gathers her things running out of the shop. You tap your fingers on the counter. The shop is now empty save for Aemond typing away on his laptop.

"Hey Aemond?" You practically yell across the shop. He looks up at you furrowing his brows but doesn't say anything.

"You want a muffin or something?" you offer holding up a double chocolate muffin and wiggling it back an forth.

He simply shakes his head returning his focus back to the laptop in front of him. you sigh as you come to the conclusion that it is going to be a long and boring 20 minutes before second shift shows up.

Probably five minutes before Sara and Jace are due to arrive the downpour starts.

"oh well isn't that grand" you mumble to yourself.

You have been trying to save up for a car. Your parents couldn't afford to buy you one at the present time, and with the wages earned at the coffee shop it would most likely take the entire summer for you to save up enough so you walked to and from work. This typically wasn't a big deal since you lived close by but torrential rain always made the experience a lot less pleasant.

Jace comes running in soaked to the bone.

"Please tell me you just ran a mile and not just 5 seconds from the car park?" the grimace on your face outwardly showing how you are feeling

"Nah this is the 2 second walk from the car park it's serious out there right now!" he laughs while he shakes his hair off.

He comes around the back of the counter.

"He's here again huh? I could ask him to stop?" Jace whispers

"No, he's fine, he has a coffee works on whatever and then he goes."

"He always comes at the beginning of your shift and leaves at the end of it. You don't think that is a little weird?"

"Isn't he like your cousin or something? I would think that you would be nicer" you take off your apron and hold it in your hands.

"uncle, and we're not close" Jace heads to the backroom trying to dry himself off. "When sara gets here, I'm sure she won't mind running the store alone a few minutes so's I can drop you off"

"No, I'm ok. Just a little rain, Heard rainwater is good for your hair" You chuckle to yourself. "Bye Jace"

Jace waves as you head out the door of the shop and the second you get outside you can't believe how hard it is raining.

"Let me take you." Aemonds cool voice comes from behind you.

"Oh!" you jump and turn around his face, still as stone looking at you awaiting your answer.

"Thanks, that would be very kind" You decide to accept his offer. Firstly, it is downpouring and you really don't want to ruin your shoes and second, he can't escape you in a tiny car. He will have to finally speak.

The two of you run over to his Porsche. Of course he would have a Porsche.

"I'm getting your seat wet, i'm so sorry" you blurt out the moment the two of you are in the car.

"Don't worry about it" He turns the car on and turns on the heat.

"Thank you for this." You smile at him hoping he will look over at you.

Instead he just nods and puts the car in reverse backing out of the parking space.

You don't even tell him where you live but he pulls out front of your building anyway.

"Ummm.... how did you?"

"I dropped you off junior year after your friend ditched you."

"Right, I forgot about that" you scratch the back of your neck and purse your lips but don't make a move towards getting out of the car.

"Why do you come see me?" you look directly at him.

"What?" His voice sounds a bit defensive

"I'm not bothered by it. Really, I'm just curious"

"I like coffee." He answers as he turns his head toward you.

"No. it's something else. C'mon tell me" you flutter your lashes and give him a puppy dog look, no one can withstand your puppy dog look.

He chuckles and rolls his neck. "I remember"

This peaks your interest "Remember what?"

He sighs "I remember every single time you talked to me, looked at me, walked by me and waved. Hell, i remember when you held the door open for me. twice"

Your breath catches in your throat.

"I'm not crazy and i'm not a stalker i swear" he rubs his collar bone nervously. "it's just..... you were my salvation. The one person who didn't run from me or sneer at me or judge me and hate me" he grips the steering wheel tightly.

you reach over and gently rub his knuckles as they turn white. he takes a deep breath in at the skin to skin contact.

"So in other words.... you miss me?" You ask with a tiny smile and a blush on your cheeks.

"yeah, if you wanna make it simple i guess that would be the right term for it"

"How much?" Your voice drops from your sweet and kind persona, to a more sultry sound.

Aemond catches this right away. "Umm.... what?"

you get up on the seat, on your knees and lean over the center console. getting up close to his ear. "How much did you miss me? Like, was it driving you crazy?" You place your hand on his shoulder tracing your finger along his neck "Keeping you up at night?"

his breath comes out in unsteady huffs "You really shouldn't"

"Hmmm?"

"I will not be able to control myself if you keep that up" he grips the steering wheel tighter and suddenly the situation in this car had changed completely.

You were no longer teasing him to get a rise and reaction out of him. Him stating he wouldn't be able to control himself lit a fire in you. You felt this urge to push him there. A burning pooling in your belly you were not going to ignore. No, just this once you were going to indulge.

You lean over further bringing your mouth to his ear. "Maybe I want to see it"

He bites his bottom lip, then grabs your face pressing his lips against yours harshly. Lust and desperation apparent in his kiss. His hand slides up the back of your neck to the base of your head holding you close as he continues to devour you. Like a man starved.

Before your brain has even caught up to what is happening he grips your thigh harshly pulling you over the center console and into his lap. he quickly grabs your hips pushing you down into him as his tongue continues to explore your mouth.

"I've dreamt of this for ages" he whispers as he kisses and nibbles along your jawline making you purr contently. Being wanted this bad is the biggest turn on you have ever experienced.

You roll your hips against him chasing that pressure. When he feels this he growls and pushes your core against him as he ruts up against you.

"I have to have it." He begs with a breathy sigh "Gods please i have to"

You unbuckle your khakis and slide them off your legs giggling at the slight gymnastics you have to perform in order to get them off. Once they are off you drop back onto his lap and he runs his hands up your back pulling you tight up against him. His mouth finds yours again as his slips his hand between your thighs and slides a finger inside of you.

"I knew you would be perfect, I fuckin knew it" He groans as he adds a second finger pumping in and out of you slowly. he hooks his finger finding that spot inside of you that sends you to ecstasy. You close your eyes and roll your head back moving your hips rhythmically against his hand.

"oh god, oh god!" You squeal as he brings you over the edge, you clenching around his fingers. He immediately unfastens his jeans sliding them down to his thighs and pulling you over him.

"is this ok?" He asks gripping your hips tightly

You nod and he pushes your hips down sliding himself into you slowly. he makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl as you sink down onto him.

"This ain't gonna last long darlin" he grunts as he thrusts up into you. He bites down on your shoulder as he pulls you down over him over and over thrusting up into you at the same time. He rubs your pearl with his thumb as he quickens his pace.

Jaw slack and eyes like dinnerplates he watches as you come done a second time and groans

"Where? Where?" He whines "Fuck"

"I'm on birth control it's fine" You bite his bottom lip "Go ahead"

"Fuck! Ok Ok Fuck" He slams your hips down onto him three more times before his body tenses and squeezes your hips so tight you think your bones may snap.

you rest your forehead on his shoulder as the both of you regulate your breathing.

"Thank god it's fucking pouring" You giggle.

"Yeah, that was a bit mental wasn't it?" he laughs while breathing heavily and running his fingers through your hair.

You flop back over to the passengers seat and start pulling your trousers back on.

"See you at the coffee shop tomorrow?" you ask as you clasp the button.

"Always" he smiles back at you.

"Good, cuz i think I may need another ride..... " you giggle

"Really? you live so close" He teases back

"Who said I wanted to go home?" you wink at him as you hope out of the car. "See you tomorrow"

You shut the door and head inside with a huge grin on your face.

"Ok ... NOW everything is perfect"

To be added to taglist click here

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

😼😼😼 I really liked your headcanons for the Sdv+Sdve bachelor's! i think they're all super fun to read. Could you do the bachelor's reacting to a spouse whose like a mad scientist doing crazy shit like reviving a dead body with chemicals alone or growing hybrid crops, or even just laughing manically in their secret farm lab while they work on one of their crazy (and usually improbable but they still make it work) experiments again. HAVE A GOOD DAY THANK YOU :-)

This ask fits the spooky month vibe perfectly, hee hee 😈 Thank you for the ask and your kind words, hope you have a great day too! Enjoy 🫰💕

_________________________________________

You know that meme about "My hot witch wife and me doing whatever she wants"? That's how you could describe Farmer and their spouse Sam. The young guitarist was naturally surprised at first, but Farmer has so many amazing things and pots with unusual plants that it just takes your breath away. He'll even ask to be their assistant. By the way, Farmer can forget about the fact that the lab was "secret" because Sammy will post a ton of photos and selfies with his beloved spouse in front of all the reagents.

It is not new to Sebastian that Farmer was obsessed with science and mysteries, as they were constantly discussing some discoveries with his half-sister and stepfather. It's also not new to have a laboratory under their farmhouse. What Sebby didn't expect was that Farmer's place would be full of things that he doesn't know whether it's science or magic. So cool, and he's eerily curious to hear what Farmer will tell him about the new kinds of crops. Although necromancy makes him uneasy ("Is that... a zombie rats running around on the floor?"), he's generally intrigued.

Alex may not have understood most of what his spouse told him in their lab, but the athlete's gut tells that just about every object and plant in here could be a potential threat. He realizes that Farmer knows how to handle everything, and clearly loves being a scientist in addition to working in the fields, it's just... weird. And yet... Can they really bring the dead back to life? And can they bring his- No, that's wrong. Forget what Alex said. He won't mind Farmer's hobby, just... promise him to be careful.

Shane has had all sorts of strange things happen in his life. Mostly thanks can be said to Joja.co and their "special laboratory to improve the quality of products for life". Shane has only been dragged to such demonstrations once, but it was enough to last him a lifetime. So don't let Farmer be surprised that chicken man's face turned pale, because not only is the flashback, but Farmer's creations look even scarier. "They're useful!" Thanks Farmer, but Shane didn't feel any better.

Baffled by the plants he has never seen before, dumbfounded by the huge number of flasks with a rather dangerous liquid, and a little frightened by Farmer's maniacal laughter, which is the envy of any actor playing a super-villain... But with all this, Elliott tries to support the hobby of his dearest spouse, although the writer and little understands in what Farmer tells him boisterously. Plus, the whole mad scientist vibe is sure to inspire Elliott to write his first Gothic novel about the love between a mad scientist and a lonely vampire (we'll pretend we don't know who that vampire is, m'kay).

As soon as Farmer finished showing Harvey their secret laboratory, describing the experiments in detail and laughing triumphantly, the poor doctor forced a smile out of himself and gave a thumbs-up. Inside Harvey, though, everything was screaming. New kinds of plants raised a lot of doubts about whether it was safe to eat, the amount of dangerous liquids increased the desire to wrap the Farmer from head to toe in clothes protecting him from burns, and in the case of necromancy Harvey would be just speechless, considering it immoral. Really... mixed emotions, to put it kindly.

The whole Farmer's laboratory, their experiments with crops, going beyond the boundaries of science and even magic, intrigues Victor as much as it scares him. Although, to be honest, it frightens him much more. The spaghetti lover really wants to support Farmer in their hobby, but there are a few things that make him very wary. It seems that one of the books written by the adventurers stated that necromancy is forbidden. And also, Victor himself thinks it's not very ethical, soooo.... Should he be worried about Farmer's experiments?

When Lance first met his future spouse, in the depths he was a little hesitant to trust Farmer to find and grow monster crops. But after they showed him a laboratory with a huge number of very strange but quite interesting plants with unusual fruits, the gallant adventurer immediately realized that for Farmer to deal with such crops was not the first time. He would still warn about necromancy, though, for although there were still debates about whether to ban or allow this dark school, Farmer could bring trouble on themselves and others...

Aside from the fact that Farmer's wicked laughter over the table of reagents reminded Magnus of his ex-wife, who was also laughing almost like that in front of her bubbling cauldron, the wizard wasn't particularly bothered by such a quirk of his spouse. The only BUT will be if Rasmodius notices their attempts to revive the dead. Necromancy is forbidden by the Ministry of Magic, at least without official permission and a mentor to supervise at all times. Besides, showing such disrespect for the dead is simply immoral. Magnus doesn't mind Farmer's experiments, but no necromancy, or they'll be in big, big trouble.

[fl00mie]

tw: suicide

thinking about how The Truce comic is not simply a self-discovery of error and ink and a primary introduction to xtale, but explores other facets of the characters such as hopelessness to the point of wanting to end their lives. i've known about this comic for years but i never paid enough attention to this type of topics and i just used to interpret it as fun interactions between these two idiots (i don't want to proclaim this as canon, i'm just looking to analyze jakei's interpretations of these characters)

on the one hand there's ink, who clearly looks more desperate than error and externalizes it in order to control it

although we can know more about his perspective of the situation by being the narrator of the story, i feel that "talking to himself as if he were writing a funny diary" fits perfectly, in addition to staying calm by doing any type of activity or physical movement self-talk helps him with this

of course it would be much better for him if he had someone to talk to, and he does! but it's error we're talking about so thinking about it, ink probably bothered him to feel company by getting scolded by him (unintentionally or not)

on the other hand there is error, who, as we know, is completely accustomed to the void so it's easy for him to stay calm at first. what seems to make him lose his mind is not having the freedom to move (much less with ink, or in general another person next to him) or to leave that place, so he chooses to try to have it all to achieve a minimum of satisfaction or self-sufficiency

we notice how ink is losing his sanity more as time goes by, he notices error is also having an internal struggle but knows how to hide it (this really says a lot about the character, whether due to pride, trauma or any other reason, he doesn't like to look weak under any circumstances)

i always find the interpretations that many give to the emptying ink vials quite ingenious, in this situation it clearly represents the loss of hope and the no escape from the mental and emotional hell in which they find themselves

they both seem to regain some consciousness as they literally see their reason for existing in front of them

but are totally incapable of doing anything about it

this, in a subtle way, ends all the hopes that could still exist within both of them

error makes the first move and, strangely, is "cordial" with his companion for the last time before literally ending his life, they start a small conversation in which they say goodbye (in a way). it's interesting how this situation seems to be of no importance to error, he knows what's coming next and yet he doesn't seem upset at all

as well, error does not seem to have incited ink to do the same as him (on the contrary, it's as if he stopped him from doing it in case he had considered it but said it in a very crude way), however, ink takes it as a free pass to "catch him later"

this is how ink gives his last message to those who once helped him, to those who allowed him to continue living in the first place. he tries to call them for help (it's important to emphasize that he also, consciously or not, sought to help error, whether for "selfish" reasons such as staying active and energized in his multiversal journey, having a purpose in his fight more than just protecting, or any other)

and instead of an answer to his prayers..

the only thing he achieves is witnessing a nightmare incarnate, his world shatters in a couple of seconds with no chance to stop it

it's a mix of feelings unique to him, something he's never experienced before, everything he longed to protect all this time didn't seem to have borne fruit, what kind of torture was that?

that was the straw that broke the camel's back

error, having witnessed this, feels fulfilled at first, without lifting a single finger he has achieved what he had always (from what he remembers) longed for.. and still, he doesn't seem to care about the situation at all, what good is a small drop of satisfaction in a sea of ​​hypocrisy?

the roles seem to have reversed, and even though error wasn't that hopeless anymore, he continued with his initial idea and this time, both of them say goodbye, ready to proceed and "get this over with"

[starlightshadowsworld]

Bsd except Atsushi was taken into the Port Mafia by the Old Boss.

After being given the cue to begin from Mori, Hirotsu starts his tale.

"About a decade or so ago, a couple who were quite high up in the Port Mafia ended up betraying us. The details I don't know of, but for whatever reason the Ex Boss took it personally."

It wasn't unusual. The Old Boss tended to deal with traitors first hand rather than leave it to his underlings. It definitely made the man terrifying. But taking it so personally was odd.

"They bargained with him. You see they had a son who possessed powerful ability. It worked, the Ex Boss was impressed with it and sparred them with the trade being he kept their kid."

Hirotsu took out his lighter and lit his cigarette.

"The Ex Boss grew to adore him, the kid was basically his son. Atsushi Nakajima was the crown jewel of the Port Mafia.

He was a good kid you would think he was bathed in light. And yet there was a darkness to him. He was as vicious and cold as he was kind and warm."

Mori raised an eyebrow.

"If he was so special, how is it I haven't heard of him?"

Hirotsu sighed "well, like I said the kids ability was powerful. But he couldn't quite control it, we had our measures and things in place of course. But as the Ex Boss started to sick, he became afraid of Atsushi."

He shook his head frowning.

"The kid he loved like his own was now a monster in his eyes. He locked Atsushi down underground, under more security that we have for Q. Forbade anyone for even mentioning his name, it was like the kid never existed."

Mori was intrigued by that "and was this extra security warranted or was it simply paranoia."

"It wasn't at first, Atsushi wouldn't have hurt any ally and especially not the Ex Boss."

Hirotsu knew, because even when Atsushi was fully transformed he remembered the scent and smell of his allies. He'd never attacked them, not unless they stepped out of line.

"But the longer he stayed down there... Any love Atsushi had for the Ex Boss turned into hate. The Ex Boss come taunt him, torture him and betrate him. Eventually the he got too sick to go down there."

Dazai hummed, sitting up in his chair. "And I'm guessing he's still down there?" Hirotsu nodded "I think the plan was to slowly starve him. But his caretakers continued their jobs, I've been down and he's still there."

Mori nodded "so you think he'd be a useful addition to the Port Mafia?" Mori already knew the answer of course but he wanted to hear it.

"Definitely. Atsushi never quite had a home before us, he values this city as his. His to protect, his to take care off. It's what convinced him to start taking training seriously.

It didn't fit the Ex Boss's vision, but I know he'll fit yours sir."

And that, that was all Mori needed but they chatted a bit longer. On exactly what this ability was, and it definitely was quite impressive.

Who knew he'd find a diamond below his feet?

"So my old man is dead? Did he suffer?" Asked Atsushi, watching as Mori approached his cell. He was standing, the chain around his neck taunt but he didn't seem bothered by it.

"He did, right go the end. I would know, I killed him myself."

Atsushi's look of shock turned into a chuckle. "So you did. So what do I get for choosing you hmm?" He sounded relaxed but there was hidden malice in his voice.

"Time out your cage, and the ability to protect this city as you wish." Said Mori. Atsushi looked at him in suprise, than smiled at that last part.

Hmm someone who cared more for this city than their own wellbeing, oh Atsushi definitely would be useful to the Port Mafia.

"I can do that, could also share some tales of dear old dad. He's got secrets buried in these walls." Said Atsushi nonchalantly and it was Mori's turn to chuckle.

"I can do that, so Atsushi Nakajima what do you say?"

Atsushi lowered himself onto one knee. "I swear my life, my blood and my loyalty to this organisation. I will be it's eyes, it's ears and it's executioner as you see fit all in the name of protecting Yokohama."

"Welcome to the Port Mafia, Atsushi Nakajima."

[inkbats-writing]

Bruce expected the request for a meeting. Counted on it even. If he wanted to figure out how Masters was convincing other ceos to sign over their companies without even due compensation Bruce would need to put himself in the line of fire. With protections in place of course, couldn't actually risk his employees by losing his company, but ones subtle enough whatever game Masters is playing would miss seeing them.

What Bruce wasn't expecting was almost as soon as the meeting was scheduled Masters would cancel it.

Masters' assistant was apologetic when he called back for a reason. Stammering and rambling about how she didn't mean to make the appointment with him it was some other ceo she was meant to call, but for whatever reason she mistakenly called his office instead. And could he please not mention this to Mr. Masters because she's still new and it might get her fired and-leading to him ending the calling promising it would be their little secret.

He wouldn't let it go obviously, still suspicious of the man who left his self imposed isolation to move to Gotham to repeat what Bruce's sources say was how he made money at the start. But he would find another method to figure out what was going on. Even if the meeting would have been perfect for it.

And then another meeting is requested a week later. Only to once again be canceled minutes later. Over and over again this repeats for a month with the assistant getting more upset with each return call swearing she doesn't know why she's called him when she knows Mr. Masters isn't trying to schedule a meeting with him.

Leading him to break into the man's office late at night to see if it could shed some light on what the other man is up to. Or at least that was the plan, up until Bruce's started hearing Masters voice come from the hallway and he has to hide on the edge of the balcony just outside the office. He makes it just in time if the sudden silence of Masters wheelchair rolling onto the office rug is anything to go by.

"Would you stop trying to get me a meeting with Bruce Wayne? If Rozina realizes she's made yet another meeting appointment without remembering why she's going to start crying and I don't want to deal with it." Masters voice is his usual annoyed arrogance as he speaks to whoever followed him into his office.

"My dear Vladimir....Wayne Enterprises would make such a fine addition to DalvCo...I'm merely thinking of your beneifit." The other's voice is smooth if slightly lisped but the condensation carries over regardless.

"And I told you no, pick someone else."

"The wealth you'd gain-"

"We had an agreement-"

"And I've following it as you wished-"

"You're not actually because if you were-"

"So just allow the meeting and I'll ensure he agrees to-"

"No! I told you I would only agree if-" a sudden coughing fit interrupts whatever Masters was trying to say as he clearly has an attack of some sort.

"My dear-" The other briefly starts only for the sound of an inhaler to interrupt him.

"Bad men...men as terrible if not worse than me...that's what we agreed....Bruce Wayne is a good man....I-I will not...I will be responsible for a g-good man...."

Masters trails off into another coughing fit interrupted only by the inhalers use and this time the other stays silent. Only when the fit has clearly passed and Masters troubled but steady breathing is back does the other speak again.

"As you wish my dear..."

[final-script]

Same Tastes | LS18

Pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader

Sumary: Apparently, Chloe and Lance Stroll like Australians, who practice Snowboarding.

Warnings: English is not my first language !!!, I know it may look awful, but I hope you like it.

Gif: ellalovesvettel

A/N: This could have a part 2, if you like, just let me know.

-------------------------------

You met Scotty at your first Winter Olympics and practically from that moment I adopt you as his little sister, there was not much age difference between you, but he still did.

During the competition seasons, he let you know that he was there for you at all times and during the practices, he helped you perfect some techniques and you were happy about that since he was one of your role models.

And during the seasons when they weren't competing, at no point did they lose touch.

So much so that in one of the dines of F1 race weeks, taking advantage of the sponsorship invitations, I invite you to attend a GP together, in addition to also being able to introduce yourself to one of his best friends,his brother-in-law and clearly his fiancée , for the first time in person.

You were familiar with F1, so you were excited to attend a Grand Prix and experience it from another area.

(…)

S- Chloe is going to love you.

Y/N- I hope you like him so I can ask how he supports you.

Don't get me wrong, I love him, but I don't consider myself fit to withstand his body's level of inactivity.

S-hey, you love me and you know it!

Y/N- I don't deny it, but you limit my patience!.

(...)

When we entered and some cameras turned to see us, I really thought it was because of Scotty, because well… He was one of the best friends of one of the pilots and brother-in-law of another, shocked when several people said my name.

Very recently I started to have some recognition and let's say that it takes me a little getting used to.

S- the public loves you, I feel jealous!

Y/N- that I can say. Pushing it amicably.

I did sponsorship duties and then Scotty took me to meet his best friend, his brother-in-law and fiancée.

(…)

Meeting Daniel was exactly as I expected.

Just as outrageous and funny, as shown online.

Outrageous but very friendly.

It's time to meet Chloe and because of her exprecion, I have a new adoptive sister or who knows, maybe I'll become the daughter of a marriage.

Ch- Finally!!, a pleasure to meet you, you are very pretty.    I must admit that I blushed and thanks to her hug I hid it a little- I'm Chloe!

Y/N- I'm Y/N, nice to meet you too!. Accept the hug.

S- hey, I'm here too!

Ch- I just saw you, plus I must meet the person with whom you spend time away from me and who has not yet accosted you.

Y/N- thank God you mention it, a moment ago I said I would ask you the same thing, how do you stand it??, don't get me wrong, it's genius but…  I think that the part of the DNA that contained the iperactivity did not reach me.   Laugh.

Scotty wanted to stay serious but couldn't and joined us.

 X- it seems that there is a party to which I was not invited.

One of you behind us called our attention, when I turned, I confirmed who I was.

Lance Stroll, Scotty's brother-in-law and Chloe's brother.

I stepped aside to give them space, greeted them both, and then turned to see myself.

L- who do we have here?.

Y/N- I'm Y/N.   Shaking his hand.

L- I'm Lance.

S- my little sister in the snow.

L- I think now I understand Scotty's excitement to come today, we have heard many things about you.

Y/N- good things I hope?

S- of course, who do you take me for?      Hugging his girl.

L- then, I must forget the part where you tell me, which is not as good as you.

S-hey, it was supposed to be a secret.    Chloe and I couldn't stop laughing.

Y/N- between you and me, let him believe it's true.

(...)

Without you noticing, the couple next to you quietly watched your interaction and shared glances, silently planning a clear movement.

(...)

That movement that Scotty and Chloe never talked about in front of you but they thought about it, became a solid relationship, which at the time of the big wedding had a duration of a beautiful 12 months.

A year with one of the best people in the world. With a person who honestly at first I did not believe would work, but thank God I was not like that.

Concentrated on my sports career I had been quite denied in the themes of love, but Lance had made me detach a little from that, but without moving away completely.

The distance from time to time became difficult but for the moment we are being able to bear it.

And let's really hope it stays that way for a long time.

----------------------------------

ANOTHERS

Take It Or Leave It… - Lando Norris X  Leclerc!Reader

Royal In The Paddock - Carlos Sainz Jr x PrincessOfSpain!Reader

[1daroaceficfest]

Welcome to the 1D Aro/Ace Fic Fest! - Currently Posting!

A One Direction Fic Fest centred around all the identities on the aromantic and asexual spectrum

1D Aro/Ace Fest Round I - Masterpost

🩶 Listening to Intuition by lululawrence / @lululawrence = Louis/Harry - Zayn/Liam | 5K | Not Rated | fic post =

Now that Zayn was laying it all out like this, Louis got to wondering… could it be possible that he was never able to get a really good handle on what exactly aromanticism was because he’d never felt romantic attraction, and without that key piece, how could he possibly figure out what it truly meant to be lacking it? Louis has a good grasp of his own identity and how all the pieces of him fit together in his life as a queer man in a committed relationship with his partner. Or so he thinks until his favorite aroace TikTok creator shows him another possibility he may have previously overlooked.

🩶 I'd Rather You (Hold Me) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed = Zayn/Louis | 14K | Teen And Up | fic post =

He frowns when he hears the dial tone. By now, he knows just how many times the sound will come through, tinny on the speakers, before it clicks over to voicemail, and yet he still feels his heart trip over itself whenever the voice first comes through. “Hi, you’ve reached Zayn-” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead, where his headache always tends to bloom when he’s stressed. “Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, disconnecting the call and resisting the childish urge to redial immediately, knowing that if Zayn’s not picking up now, he won’t no matter how much Louis bugs him. It’s just - this isn’t like them. It isn’t like Zayn to dodge his calls for days, not unless he’s seriously incapacitated or dead, but if that were the case, Louis would’ve heard. Because Louis is his emergency contact, for one, and both their families know how much they mean to one another. Someone would’ve called, if something had happened, unless Zayn was dead in his own house, and, oh God, what if Zayn’s dead in his own house and Louis has been mentally calling him a dickhead while he’s rotting on the bathroom floor? Spoiler: Zayn isn't dead. There is however, suddenly a baby.

🩶 a little, then suddenly by HoldingOnToChaos / @holdingontochaos = Louis/Harry | 34K | Explicit | fic post =

Written for the Aro/Ace Fest 2024. Prompt 12: Gray-Asexual (demisexual) Harry falls in love and gets attracted to his best friend Louis after fifteen years of friendship.

🩶 A ROad and A ROmance to self discovery by rockstarlwt28 / @rockstarlwt28 = Louis/Harry | 3K | General | fic post =

Louis Tomlinson, a motivational speaker for the LGBTQ plus community finds himself confronted with a student who is determined to derail his presentation. Reaching boiling point and landing in hot water, Louis seeks out a place of serenity. A welcomed presence of additional tranquillity and renowned first class student Harry Styles, accompanies him. Prompt: Louis creates a “guide” to aro/ace for a college presentation and Harry (who had been previously doubting his sexual orientation) realises that he might be aro/ace.....also bonus if you could make it an interactive presentation where there is this one asshole who is constantly arguing with Louis about this not being a sexuality and saying bullshit like 'sexual love is the only form of love' and 'you are just boring' but Louis gives witty comebacks and shuts him up. In the end, Harry and Louis have a chat in a library where Louis helps him with coming to terms with his sexuality.

🩶 It's Not That I Don't Want You by parmahamlarrie / @parmahamlarrie = Louis/Harry | 12,5K | Explicit | fic post =

It begins with a benign comment during a night in watching a show with his lovely boyfriend, Louis, and leads Harry to a months long journey to understand himself better. Will Harry figure out what makes him feel so different from everyone else? And will he find the courage to tell his boyfriend? Or a character study into Ace Harry with the most supportive boyfriend, Louis.

🩶 I Wish You Knew I Love You by SuperNoah / @super--noah = Louis/Harry | 7K | Mature | fic post =

When Harry and Louis met at 16 they instantly became best friends. They still are, even now as they're both finishing their master's at Manchester University, but Harry's jealous boyfriend is trying to drive a wedge between them. As Harry's relationship takes a turn for the worse Louis realises he's fallen in love with Harry. Will Harry stay with James? Or will his jealousy end them for good? Does Louis even have a chance with Harry if he ever becomes single? Demisexual/demiromantic Louis realises something massive about his feelings for his best friend, Harry, over Christmas. But Harry is with James and seems to be happy. Louis would never have a chance with Harry anyway. Harry likes sex and Louis doesn't, he never has and probably never will.

🩶 Just The Way You Are by enchantedlandcoffee / @enchantedlandcoffee = Louis/Harry | 780 | General | fic post =

"Do you miss it?" "Miss what, love?" He could hear the frown in Louis’ voice, and tried to subtly release soothing pheromones into the kitchen "You know...sex and all that." "Where's this coming from, Haz?" Or, the one where Harry confesses his worries, and Louis reassures him.

🩶 Somebody to Love (in the Right Way) by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist / @chai-hat-tea = Louis/Harry | 21K | Mature | fic post =

He fell on his bed, happy tears flowing from his eyes. For the first time, he felt seen. He felt valid. He felt good within his skin. He wanted to dance with joy, for he finally found the answers he didn’t know he needed. Or a story about discovery, acceptance, and happily ever afters.

🩶 Stronger Than the Tide by haztobegood / @haztobegood = Louis & Harry | 3,3K | General | fic post =

The time Louis had spent talking with Harry in the cave had flown by. He was still unsure where the time had gone. Maybe it was because this was the first real connection Louis had made in years. Love and sex did not interest Louis, and it became harder to find good friends. It was different with Harry. Their conversation flowed effortlessly without pressing for more. Despite the hours they spent together in the cave, Louis wanted to keep talking, to share more of himself, and to learn more about Harry. He hoped their paths would cross again soon.

🩶 Let Your Tears Fall (No I Won't Judge You) by LiveLaughLoveLarry (SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFic) / @loveislarryislove = Louis/Harry | 7,9K | Explicit | fic post =

“I want to feel good," Harry says. "I want you to feel good. I just… I don’t know what that looks like.”  Louis nods. “That’s fair,” he says. “Always a bit of a learning curve, figuring out what you like and what you don’t.” He rubs his chin. “What if we just… talk through it? Instead of doing it?”  Harry blinks. “What do you mean?” he says. “I don’t – I just don’t know what-” “I know,” Louis says. “It’s okay.” He brushes his hand down Harry’s cheek, soft and gentle. “I can start,” he says. “Tell you about what I imagine us doing together. And anytime you feel like something isn’t right – you can stop me, and we can figure out a different path.” Harry nods slowly. “Okay,” he says. “I can try.” Four times Harry cries during sex. And four times Louis is right there beside him, giving him all the comfort and support and validation he needs.

If you have any questions feel free to reach out via ask or send an email to 1daroaceficfest@gmail.com

[petermorwood]

Sound FX oopsie or not?

I was watching a couple of episodes of "The Crown" last week, and picked up yet again on something I'd noticed - heard - before. Unless there's something going on that I don't know about, the sound the show used for phones is incorrect.

They (w)ring wrong. In fact they ring American.

UK / Irish bell-ringer phones, the ones I grew up with - and which you'd expect to hear in Buckingham Palace, Balmoral etc. - had a short double ring, like so: Brringg-Brringg ... Brringg-Brringg ... Brringg-Brringg.

US bell-ringer telephones had a single long-ish ring, like so: Brrriiinnng ... Brrriiinnng ... Brrriiinnng.

It probably sounds unimportant for those too young to have heard these phones unless they've installed a "old phone ring" in their mobile.

However for people who grew up with a particular ring (not that long ago, the phones in those pics brring'd on in homes and offices on both sides of the Pond well into the 1990s) the incorrect sound can be as odd as, for instance, seeing US or Irish / UK cars driving on the wrong side.

It takes a couple of seconds, and then "Oh, that's not right..." (or not left, as appropriate).

Despite more on-line searching than I should have wasted time on, I haven't found either "goof" or "reason why" to explain how those phones in "The Crown" rang the way they did, and it's an itch I'd love to scratch.

*****

Another sound error is depicting modern British emergency vehicles as having two-tone (dee-dah-dee-dah) horns. Not any more - even though an EV going somewhere in a hurry with lights and sounds on is AFAIK still "running blues and twos".

Nowadays "twos" have been replaced by wailer, yelper and oth-er kinds of electronic siren - none of which, IMO, are as efficient as the two-tone either for cutting through ambient noise or indicating which direction the sound and vehicle is coming from.

I've also got a memory of a documentary sometime in the past year about the Battle of Britain and the Blitz (i.e. 1940-41) where whoever dubbed in the sound-effects clearly assumed that a dee-dah tone has always been the British police-fire-ambulance warning.

Ahhh... No.

British emergency vehicles in the 1940s didn't use sirens, horns or klaxons; they were fitted with hand-operated or electric bells. At that period, the two-tone warning called a Martin-Horn...

...was AFAIK exclusively German...!

All this sounds picky-picky, but while using the wrong plane or ship or vehicle because no example of a real one exists any more is one thing, making a mistake in something as inexpensive and easily-reconstructed as a period sound is another matter.

Of course it's a well-known truism that while the contract for a movie / show's historical consultant says they must be paid, there's no matching contract clause that says they must be heeded, so for the sake of their scholarly reputations those consultants sometimes demand to be removed from the credits.

Looking at you, Ridley...

*****

ETA: Some days later, with that original post still queued, I may perhaps have found an answer. :->

I've just watched "Thirteen Days", that rather good, properly tense movie about the Cuban Missile Crisis, in which Kevin Costner's character had two phones at home. The black one was domestic with a US single ring, the red one was Official...

With a UK-style double ring.

Without bothering to re-watch each relevant episode of "The Crown", I'm now thinking those "incorrect" phone-rings may all have been internal lines and - like the Official phone in "Thirteen Days" - had a different ringing pattern to denote they weren't a "civilian" call.

In addition, the Costner character and his wife both react to the double ring with alarm, indicating they know its significance.

All of the above makes sense when you consider that custom ringtones were half a century in the future, and there's only so much the electrical pulses driving a pair of metal bells can do...

[dedolubka]

Guys! I need help from the fandom. I want to draw a series of art with the high lords of all the courts. The task is difficult because there is very little information about them in the text. Here are my suggestions/headcanons: Spring Court - Because of my headcanons I'm going to have to redesign Tamlin. Britain 17th century, Renaissance, Shakespeare (anyone surprised?)

Summer Court - I thought for a long time, but decided to offer the image of Ptolemaic Kingdom. Closest to the reign of Cleopatra. And a bit of fantasy sea... I think.

Autumn Court - I wanted to suggest Ireland, but sjm said otherwise. It's not clear from the names, Lucien, Beron, Eris - different names of different cultures. So France of the 15th century. I can't think of a better one.

Winter Court - Norway, vikings. These guys are crazy enough to ride polar bears! Their women are also on equal footing with the men (Vivienne served on the border).

Day Court - Babylonia. Babylonia was conquered by both Persians and Greeks at different times. That's why it suits Hellion. In addition, sciences were widely developed in Babylonia and special attention was paid to magic. Symbolic.

Dawn Court - DAMN IT I WAITED FOR THIS... I mean /clears throat/ the wuxia genre did everything for me. The main thing is to decide on the era. And add a bit of Clockwork City from TESO

Night Court - I don't fucking know (；￣Д￣) Seriously, I have no idea. Velaris looks like New York. Hewn City is like a drow city, only with a patriarchy. Illyrian....no comments yet. Can someone tell me how they could come up with such a pile? I need help here, I don't know what to draw

I didn't even try to fit everything into one time frame. It's impossible. But I tried to get into the character of each region. Please note that the movie stills are just a rough idea of ​​what I want to incorporate into the designs!If anyone has any good ideas, I'd love to hear them! (⌒_⌒)

[laismoura-art]

Presenting the Umgadi Girls AU newest addition:

Princess Lisha Liang ❄️

Y'all didn't think I'd make a whole AU staring my girls and wouldn't bring Lisa, did you? My girl has a very special role!😌🩵

I'm changing her name to "Lisha" the Chinese Equivalent of Lisa, cause having an Americanised name here wouldn't make much sense, as she lives in Outworld! But I'll be calling her Lisa throughout the text for simplicity sake.

Now let me tell y'all about her! Starting by her design!

So, after making the A'rá people inspired by our indigenous people here in Brazil, I wanted to try and do something similar to the Cryomancers in Outworld!

So Lisa's outfit takes inspiration mainly from the Lisu people, a Tibeto-Burman ethical group who inhabit the mountainous regions of Myanmar, Southwest China, Thailand and India!

Their clothes are very detailed, filled with patterns, textures, and lots of beads!

I didn't keep the traditional headpiece though, cause Lisa's hair has always been an integral part of her design! (Female Cryomancers have blue hair due to their deeper connection to Cryomancy. Their power manifest earlier than in men and they must be trained from a very young age to prevent accidents! Women must keep themselves schooled to assure total control of their power. Needless say Lisa struggles with it.)

I took some liberties here and there to make the outfit fit Lisa's style! It coincidently ended up looking very similar to Mileena's new Empress skin, which is good cause it means my outfit is also canon accurate!🤭

About her/her people's backstory:

Before talking about Cryomancers, let's learn a bit about the Pyromancers!

There are three types of Pyromancers:

The Hellfire demons.

The Sorceresses of Argus.

The Dragonborns.

Dragonborns are one of the first people in Outworld, who lived before the sun.

Unlike the Edenians, who were gifted their light by Argus, the Dragonborns, could conjure their own light (which means they don't worship Argus or Delia, but their own dragon ancestors)

The Dragonborns may be born with either Pyromancy or Cryomancy, the later being more common (which is why Kuai Liang is a Pyromancer even though he is part of a long lineage of Cryomancers)

Whether you are born Pyromancer or Cryomancer is entirely up to fate. Genetics play no part in it, you can be a Cryomancer born from Pyromancers (Lisa's case, her mother, the Dragonborn Queen Zhi, is a Pyromancer) or a Pyromancer born from Cryomancer parents (Kuai's case)!

This is well-known knowledge among the Dragonborns, but unfortunately for Kuai, much of their knowledge was lost when his family moved to Earthrealm (why did they move is still a mystery) so Kuai grew up extremely insecure about his Pyromancy.

It also didn't help his case that, both male and female Pyromancers struggle to keep their power under control.

Sympathised by his brother's tough situation, Bi-Han often engaged in Kuai's constant self-control exercises, he would also keep himself schooled, even though there was no need for him to do so. This helped Kuai feel he wasn't so lonely <3

Back to the Dragonborns, they live in a tundra forest known as Hùnhé lín (the mixed forest) it has this name because within it there are plenty of warm and green oasis, where most Pyromancers reside. No one know how these oasis exist within the tundra, legends say it was the Dragon deities gift for their Pyromancers!

The Dragonborns heve been living in the Hùnhé lín long before Queen Mimh even considered become queen!

They have harvested and cared from these lands, built their homes and culture around these lands, and yet, they struggle with the expansion of the empires around them trying to occupy their territories or bringing their own conflicts to them!

They used to have a good commercial trade with a group of Edenian merchants, but these merchants were "infected" with Tarkat and had to be replaced. The new group however, were not nearly as co-operative or respectful, which prompted plenty of conflicts.

Meeting Li Mei's Umgadi:

Of course this sort of conflict wasn't supposed to be of Li Mei and her apprentices' concerns, but as soon as Harumi heard of the situation she insisted the Edenians were in the wrong and they had to put a stop to this conflict before it escalated!

The reason Harumi took these matters so personally was because ages ago, the Shirai were almost forced out of their own lands under the accusation of witchcraft (when in reality their attackers' goal was only to take control of their prosperous lands), Cetrion intervene in their behalf, and thus came their eternal gratitude. Preventing illegal occupations is something the Order of Cetrion takes as priority.

Harumi's aid and support to the Dragonborns granted her Lisa's trust and affection.

Now, just to clarify, this little brainstorming also granted my AU a tiny tiny little change:

I absolutely ADORE Lisa and Harumi as a couple! They are my handmade OTP, the ones who started it all, and the idea of exploring their relationship outside the "Sub-Zero meets Scorpion" scenario is just too tempting to let it slide!

Soooo, yeah, bottom line: FrozenBlossom is now Harumi's endgame for this AU! I hope it doesn't become a deal breaker to anyone (which I doubt will be cause y'all have always been supportive gems, and I love y'all for it🩷🩵)!

Meanwhile, Netherrealmer!Hanzo and Scorpion!Kuai will remain a thing, but, you know, just the two of them!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Hey! You made it to the end! Have some close-ups:

Cute Lisha and angry Lisha:

Lisha after being kissed by a cute girl:

Lisha gifting a warm coat to said cute girl (cute girls can't get colds, can they?) + height difference:

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

@mikka-minns @thedragonholder @rasta-bot @madamealtruist @orbitinytheworld @running-with-the-feels y'all want some Cryomancer lore?👀💕