#he does such a great job with this I'm just thrilled he gets to play sweet characters too

[wolves-in-the-world]

Goran Višnjić as Nikola Tesla in Doctor Who 12.4, Nikola Tesla's Night of Terror.

image descriptions below the cut

—

[1] A still from an episode of Doctor Who, showing Goran as Nikola Tesla in front of Niagara Falls with an audience of men in suits and top hats, only their backs shown to us. Nikola is gesturing towards the waterfall as he speaks. He's a tall, slim man of about fifty in an old-fashioned suit with a tailcoat, pinstriped trousers, a waistcoat and watch-chain. He has a moustache, and brown hair parted in the middle, a few inches long and styled neatly with a bit of a wave.

[2] Goran as Nikola Tesla gesturing towards a device I don't understand well enough to even describe except that it's two corrugated metal cylinders and electricity is arcing between them, blue and dramatic, while he gestures like a magician. His other hand is on a lever, his face obscured by a starburst of blue light.

[3] A close-up of Goran as Nikola Tesla with a lightbulb in the foreground gleaming with warm light. He's looking off-screen and smiling slightly, eyes large and grey-blue, eyebrows raised, creases in his forehead and around his mouth. He's wearing a butterscotch-yellow tie with a wing or tuxedo shirt collar.

[4] A side-on view of Goran as Nikola Tesla bent over a workbench doing something with a tool we only see as a faint gleam of metal. He's bent almost double, intent on his work, a curl of hair falling down above his forehead, his coat gone and his shirt sleeves rucked up to the elbow so that his arms are bare and evidently hairy. The scene's dark, lit only by a candle lamp.

[5] A view of Goran as Nikola Tesla looking at a figure mostly out of view, visible to us only as blonde hair at the side of the screen. Nikola's eyes are a little wide, his mouth slightly open, making him look bewildered, and perhaps wary - I thought of it as his "okay, either you or this situation is bonkers" face. His thumb is just visible at the bottom of the screen, suggesting he's gesturing or fidgeting with his hands.

[6] A view of Goran in a crowded street, no coat, standing almost a head taller than everyone else and gesturing with one hand in a way that signals frustration or defensiveness, his eyes closed, mouth open as he speaks. A few bowler hats are visible around him, and a few of Nikola's companions - Dorothy, a serious-faced woman of thirty or so with tightly curly hair and smart clothing; the Doctor, currently a woman with straight blonde hair looking curiously past Dorothy; and just a glimpse of Yasmin in the background in a flat blue hat.

[7] A side-on view of Jodie Whittaker as the Doctor and Goran as Nikola both paying rapt attention to a glowing green mechanical-looking ball in a dish, with the Doctor pointing her sonic screwdriver at it and Nikola bending down to watch at the opposite side of the desk, hands folded together as if he's fidgeting, intent on her work. The Doctor's in a long light grey coat with a hood, incongruous for the era, and it's clear she'd be a lot shorter than him if he weren't currently courting back pain.

[8] The same scene as before, minutes later - the Doctor only visible as blonde hair in the foreground, Nikola's face transformed like he's realised something wonderful, eyes on the Doctor and leaning forward slightly, or still leaning on the desk. His mouth is open as he talks, his eyes bright, skin creasing faintly at the corners with a real smile.

[9] The same scene as before, seconds later. Goran as Nikola is looking to the side, no longer smiling but serious and thoughtful.

[10] The same scene as before, seconds later. Nikola is looking back at the Doctor and raising his eyebrows in a question at something she said, his forehead creasing, his expression perhaps a little doubtful.

[11] A close-up of Goran as Nikola in a room with warmer and dimmer lighting, his hair coming loose a bit as short curls on his forehead, frowning as he talks to someone off-screen. The angle exaggerates his nose, emphasises the lines around his mouth.

[12] A different view of the scene, zoomed out. Nikola is bent over a worktable beside Yasmin, a young woman with curled hair and a smart navy-blue jacket, and they're looking at each other as though discussing a problem, Nikola folding or rubbing his hands together. The desk of a mess of wires and oddments, lit bulbs in metal cages and what might be the odd green ball from earlier.

[13] Nikola and Yasmin in a very different location, dimly lit, with strange red lights in the background and a green light over their faces. (They're on an alien spaceship.) Yasmin is looking down at the floor like she's stunned, mouth open, and Nikola is holding her arm like he's just pulled her back, but his eyes are on something or someone else we can't see. His eyes are wide, his expression startled and openly afraid.

[14] Nikola and Yasmin still on the spaceship, blurry machinery behind them, but Nikola is almost level with Yasmin now and they're standing close, both looking at a third party off-screen. Yasmin's expression is one of distaste and a little anger, and Nikola's eyebrows are drawn down, expression somewhere between bewildered and worried.

[15] A different scene, different lighting - deep blue in the background, warm light on Nikola's face. It's an odd angle, his head ducked as though looking at something, his expression serious.

[16] A different scene, perhaps daytime with electric lighting, Nikola in conversation with someone off-screen who's clearly shorter than him. His hair's a little disarrayed, eyebrows raised and forehead creased, but there's something of a smile to his eyes and his mouth that gentles it.

[17] The same scene, seconds later, slightly zoomed in. Nikola's eyebrows are lower, forehead still creased and eyes a little scrunched, like he doesn't understand yet what the other person means. There's something tender about it still.

[18] A different room, darker, Nikola grinning while the Doctor is mostly off-screen, just a little of her hair visible, except she's raising a hand for a high-five that he isn't reciprocating. Creases are splayed out from his eyes, deep ones around his mouth, his nose sharp from this angle.

[19] A different view of the high-five moment, focusing on the Doctor as she realises he doesn't know to reciprocate - the high-five wasn't invented yet - and starts to lower her hand. Her mouth is wide open, teeth showing, somewhere between a grin and talking, and her body language is open exuberance. The creases around Nikola's eyes are still very visible from this angle, though most of his face isn't.

[20] A view of Goran as Nikola with his eyes closed as if he's blocking something out, and a look of forbearance and faint frustration on his face.

[21] A side-on view of Goran as Nikola, a shorter man in the background and the TARDIS behind them both, its windows glowing white. Nikola's expression is determined and a little grim, more hair curling messily against his forehead.

[22] A view of Goran as Nikola outside, trees in the background, a blurry blue-white sky and what might be yellowish grass. He's wearing old-fashioned aviator goggles on his forehead, where they're pushing his hair up so it's even messier, and he's looking down at something with a troubled expression.

[23] A view of the Doctor and Goran as Nikola in the TARDIS, the scene awash in electric blue and peach-pink, and no other lighting. The Doctor's leant over the TARDIS controls doing something there and looking back at Nikola, who has picked up some sort of contraption and is looking down at it, expression either troubled or focused. The light on his face is blue, throwing his features into sharp and unflattering relief.

[24] A view of Goran as Nikola in the TARDIS still, the lighting blue, the angle of his shoulders suggesting his hands are on his hips, and his expression now one of open joy. His eyes are large, his mouth open and smiling slightly, soft creases on either side.

[25] A view of Goran as Nikola on the street, looking with his head tilted at someone in the foreground - barely visible, except for the bowler hat. Nikola's expression is tolerant, a restrained smile with narrow eyes, and his hands are probably clasped behind his back.

[26] A view of Goran as Nikola on the street, now talking to the Doctor, only the back of her head visible. Nikola's in the same pose as before, hands behind his back, only leaning slightly towards her now, his expression warm as he talks to her. The creases around his eyes are back, and it's another angle that emphasises his nose.

[27] The same view as before, only now Nikola's ducked his head, almost like he's shy, or needs a moment to collect himself. The creases have gone from his eyes, but the smile's still there at his mouth.

—

[lizzyk137]

It's A Date- A Spencer Reid Fanfiction (Spencer X Reader)

Description: Spencer does not want to go to the BAU picnic but goes because he has a crush on you and suddenly Spencer is good a baseball which shocks everyone. Warning: None, just pure fluff

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Two minutes.

Just two more minutes.

Only two more minutes until the entire team could leave for a fun filled afternoon together without the worry of trying to catch a serial killer.

Hotch could see how restless the team was after having five back-to-back cases with no break and too much paperwork. So, he set some time aside for a small break for the team to relax and have some fun. A picnic at the park with some team friendly games.

You were excited, ecstatic even, about being able to enjoy an afternoon in the sun and just relax. Everyone was bringing a dish to share and even though you weren't great at sports, you were excited to play a few games with everyone.

The clocked chimed as it hit three o'clock and everyone cheered, quickly grabbing their already packed items before heading out the door, Hotch reminding everyone to meet at the park at four and to remember their food dish. You looked around smiling as everyone hurried to the door before stepping inside and turning to face the front as you saw Spencer, your best friend and long-time crush, dragging his feet as he made his way to the elevator.

Morgan and Emily called out to him to pick up the pace, as Hotch pushed the open-door button to keep the elevator from moving. Spencer finally stepped inside, chest to chest with you, a fake smile placed on his face. You knew he wasn't thrilled to be going, that he would rather go home and read or visit the outdoor theatre to watch an old film. You finally convinced him to go that it would be fun to try new things, him reminding you that playing any sport wasn't new or fun to him, the memories of gym classes still haunting his mind.

You had just patted his back reminding him that the team were not his old classmates and trying to play something without dreading it was something new to him. He just shrugged and agreed to go after you flashed him your puppy dog eyes, a look he could never say no to.

The park was right by your house, so you decided to walk over, seeing almost everyone was already there and helped set up the picnic table full of food with Penelope and JJ. It felt nice to chat openly with everyone about life and pure silliness without having to worry about keeping it short between solving a case. Everyone was sitting down to eat when you realized someone was missing. Spencer.

You reached for your phone when you heard his voice behind you. "I know I'm late, I'm sorry." You looked up at him from your spot on the grass with a smile, taking in his work clothes that he was still wearing.

"I'm glad you could make it! I saved you a spot." You patted the spot next to you and he sat down next to you before you bumped your shoulder with his. "Are you ready for a fun night?"

He sighed before stealing a chip off your plate. "Honestly, not really."

You gave a sad smile and offered your plate to him to pick off of. "At least try to keep an open mind to it." He just hummed his response and took half of your sandwich, laying his head down on your lap for you to play with his hair.

----

You were playing baseball with everyone, Spencer still seated on the grass, reading a book with occasional peek up at you. He wasn't excited to play baseball but he enjoyed watching you get excited, your laugh echoing through the air, your smile bright. He loved it when you were happy, your smile always getting lost in the gore of your job. He noticed you looking at him, worry buried between your brows, and he knew you were worried about him not joining in. An hour into the game, he sighed and set his book down then made his way over to you in the makeshift dug out area.

He poked your shoulder, something he always did to let you know he was there when he came up behind you. "Are you joining?" A hopeful look on your face when you asked. He nodded and gave you a small smile. He didn't want to join but he just couldn't say no to you.

It was your turn to bat, and you struck out every time, a playful pout on your lips as you shuffled back to him, resting your head on his arm upset you didn't hit the ball as he patted your back. JJ was up to base and she hit one pitch, making it to first base, making it Spencer's turn next.

He stepped up to base, Morgan smirking at the pitcher's spot, a knowing look on his face. An easy three throws and Spencer would be out, his team a step closer to winning. Spencer got into his stance, Morgan throwing the ball at lightning speed and the clunking sound filled the air as the ball flew through the air way past Hotch who was out in the far field.

You screamed with the rest of your team as Spencer sprinted toward first and second base, a quick glance to the out field as he saw Hotch grab the ball, and he made a rash decision to keep going, pushing JJ out of third base and forcing her to head toward the home base with him as the ball zoomed through the air towards home base, JJ and Spencer narrowly making it.

Silence filled the air for a second, everyone dumbfounded on how Spencer got a home run on his first try, before Penelope and you erupted into cheers as you ran up to Spencer jumping up into his arms, him easily catching you, a laugh easily released from his throat as he spun your around.

The next hour was filled with laughter, smiles and cheers as the game went on, Spencer helping you with your stance, helping you get to third base. You had never seen Spencer so carefree, and it took everyone by surprise, earning a lecture on physics in how you can easily figure out the speed in which you need to hit the ball in order to get a good hit in.

The night was closing in and everyone decided on a quick game of soccer, something Spencer couldn't figure out with his brain but you pulled him over to your team, your hand fitting perfectly into his. The game quickly began and you laughed at how Spencer tried to recreate the fancy tricks Morgan and yourself were pulling, earning a few grass stains on his white dress shirt. Your team somehow won and Spencer pulled you into a hug after you scored the winning point, something you weren't expecting.

Both of you helped clean up and everyone was leaving with the promise to have another night out next week from Hotch, when you were asked a question you didn't think Spencer would ask.

"Can you teach me how to play before next week?"

You turned around, confusion on your face. "Um, why? I thought you didn't like playing sports?"

"I-I don't but you like playing, and I didn't have enough time to watch soccer games before I came to impress you." His voice just a whisper.

You chuckled, your face heating up. "I can teach you, but was that why you were late?"

"Yeah- I, um, watched some baseball games to figure out what to do." Spencer squeaked out as you walked up to him a teasing smirk on your lips.

"Well, it was certainly impressive." Spencer eyes grew big.

"It-it was?"

"Mhm, it was." You stopped a few inches from him and looked up at his chocolate coloured eyes. "So, are you going to walk me home?"

The smile on Spencer's face grew and he laced his hand in yours, like he's done it hundreds of times before, and pulled you close as you walked out of the park.

You were almost to your apartment complex, the silence comforting and your hands still intwined. "I think I'll need lots of lessons with you."

"Lessons in what?" You teased, a smirk on your lips as you poked his cheek. His cheeks turned a bright red along with the tips of his ears as he shook his head.

"I-I meant with soccer, Y/N."

You pouted your lips playfully. "Boo, I thought you were talking about something else."

He abruptly stopped and turn to you. "I didn't think you'd want to do that. Not saying you could not want it but we're friends so I-I didn't think that you'd want to further our friendship, especially with me, would be possible. I was talking about soccer, because you seemed so good at it and I fell quite a few times, but if you do want to do want physical relations, I-I'll try my best to-." His rant silenced by your lips on his.

You pulled away after a few seconds, Spencer body still, his eyes large as he watched you look up at him a big smile lighting up your face. "I've been wanting to kiss you for years." Your cheeks flushed pink, and Spencer could feel his heart clench at how adorable you were. "Saturday, pick me up at three, it'll be a date."

Untangling your hands, you made your way to your complex's doors with a smile on your face, your cheeks warm, embarrassed that you just shut him up with a kiss.

"Y/N!" You turned around to the sound of your name to see Spencer running up to you. One of his arm's circling your waist, pulling you closer to him as his other hand tilted your head up as he cupped your cheek before he brought his lips to yours for a sweet kiss that left you breathless. He pulled away, a devious smile on his handsome face, he gave a small peck to your lips again. "It's a date."

[bamfkeeper]

Cooking with Kurt.

RQ: 'So, I’ve been thinking lately about cute ideas, and one of them is about cooking. Could you write a head-cannons (or a fic if you like the idea and want to be more in-depth) of Kurt and the Reader cooking? Kurt teaches the reader how to make certain German foods, and the Reader teaches Kurt some tricks too. Just the two bonding over cooking and praising and complimenting each other for their good jobs. I just find this to be adorable since cooking is a great way to share cultures and bond 🥧😋.' - @hulkingharbor

pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader | warnings: None

a/n: Stuck with headcannons because those are easy for me to write up. I have been neglecting this blog a bit I'm so sorry. I wanted to get some stuff out before I left for my trip. Unedited.

Kurt was over the moon when you expressed interest in his German heritage. Your curiosity about his roots had always been genuine, but when the topic turned to cuisine, his excitement reached new heights. The prospect of sharing his culinary traditions with you filled him with joy.

He saw cooking and baking together as a meaningful way to connect and create lasting memories, it was one of his love languages for sure.

The kitchen became a space where cultural exchange and personal bonding intertwined. Kurt's eyes would light up as he described the myriad of German dishes he was eager to introduce you to, each recipe carrying a story or a cherished memory from his past.

From hearty sauerbraten to delicate apfelstrudel, he had an extensive repertoire of flavors he couldn't wait to explore with you.

Kurt stood beside you, his lean body adorned with a whimsical apron that seemed almost comically out of place on his athletic frame.

His nimble fingers worked the dough with practiced ease, kneading it into submission. "I am beyond thrilled to be baking with you, liebe," he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "This is something I've been longing to do for quite some time now."

His golden eyes sparkled with joy as he spoke, his hands never ceasing their rhythmic motion on the precious dough. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with the task of slicing apples, the crisp sound of the knife against the cutting board.

"You look absolutely ridiculous," you chuckled affectionately, your eyes crinkling with mirth as you took in the sight of him in his frilly apron. The appearance of his muscular form and the dainty kitchen wear was too amusing to ignore.

Kurt was never one to back down from playful banter, he responded by sticking out his tongue at you in a childish gesture. His graceful tail swished mischievously behind him. You noticed that the tip of his tail had somehow managed to acquire a light dusting of flour.

Before you could react, his tail flicked swiftly in your direction, sending a small cloud of white powder flying towards you. It landed on your nose, a tiny puff of it exhaling as you snorted.

Kurt's laughter filled your ears, and you picked up some flour to combat him, his hands went up as he playfully begged you not to. "Nein! Nein, liebe! Flour and my fur do not mix!"

His pleading didn't deter you.

Flour collided with him and you both began a play fight of tossing the white ingredient at each other until you were covered in it.

Besides your little food fight, you both learned how to cook each others favorite meals. Kurt gladly taught you special recipes, and you baked delicious cookies and made warm meals to eat together.

You were surprised at how hearty his meals were, despite him being fairly lean. He blamed it on his metabolism.

Kurt loves to cook you food. Whenever you request a dish, he gets right on it and is so proud of the outcome. He always does his best and is very specific about the ingredients he uses. It has to be fresh and perfect for you.

Cooking and baking together became a cherished ritual, a delightful exploration of flavors and cultures. You take turns introducing each other to your respective backgrounds, eagerly sharing family recipes and cooking techniques passed down through generations.

The kitchen becomes a messy playground of creativity as you collaborate on fusion dishes, blending elements from both your culinary heritage.

Kurt's enthusiasm for cultural exchange is endearing, his natural curiosity and open-mindedness make him an eager student of diverse traditions and customs. He approaches each new experience with childlike wonder, whether it's trying an exotic spice or learning a traditional method of cooking. He's always ready to sample new dishes, no matter how unfamiliar.

Kurt's eyes always light up as he tastes your food. "Mein Gott, liebling! This food is absolutely wunderbar!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine awe. He affectionately nuzzles his head against yours, his tail instinctively curling around your waist to draw you closer.

The gesture of his tail is protective and intimate, a habit he formed long ago and you never broke it from him. "You must write down this recipe for me. I'd love to surprise you with it someday when you least expect it."

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, your heart warming at his sincere appreciation. "Of course, I'll write it down for you," you assure him, your voice soft with affection. "But I expect detailed instructions for all your culinary masterpieces too."

Turning in his embrace, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your fingers tracing the unique patterns of his skin. "After all, I need something to tide me over when you're away on missions. Can't have me pining away with an empty stomach, can we?"

A mischievous grin spreads across Kurt's face, his golden eyes twinkling with a mixture of humor and desire. He leans in close, his lips barely brushing against yours as he speaks. The feather-light touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a familiar warmth in your core.

"Oh, liebling," he purrs, his accented voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "When have I ever left you wanting for anything? I always make sure you're well-satisfied in every possible way~"

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight | Images found on Pinterest, I did not look for the specific comic Kurt's pic is from.

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER FOUR — HOT SKIN and a HALL PASS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: rules, you've recently learned, are for breaking– sanity is also, apparently, relative. after making a statement in the cafeteria, you play hooky with eddie in main street vinyl. content warnings: MINORS DNI tension you would need a chainsaw to cut through, farm-to-table snarking, do they even know they're yearning, nancy wheeler i'm sorry i shittalked you again (it will get better i swear) word count: 4k

Dear reader, do you ever feel like you’re completely losing your grasp on reality? 

You’ve cruised through life almost seamlessly up to this point. Yours is a well-oiled machine, one you painstakingly built yourself. But do you ever feel like you’ve spent so much time constructing something so carefully that it doesn’t make sense to you anymore? 

Like you can’t see the forest for the trees, or the treason for the thrill. 

Do you ever want to light your whole life up in flames, just to see what’s really fireproof?

“So, which is it?” 

You’re standing at your locker, making a bad job of touching up your now-flaking under-eye concealer when a voice rings out from the other end of the hall. It bounces off the cool metal of the lockers, the tack of the linoleum. It makes your shoulderblades go tense. 

“Has little Lacy been hiding a pair of brass balls this whole time, or is she on a suicide mission?”

You’d roll your eyes, but your face is aching. 

“Showing up with me this morning would have been one thing, but sitting yourself at my little table of outcasts? At lunch? The most important social event of the day?” 

Munson lets out a low whistle from where he leans, a couple of lockers up from yours. 

The hallway is deserted save for the both of you; you, out on a forged hall pass and him, probably just ditching to ditch. You peer at him from behind your locker door. He’s standing slanted in a long, lithe line made bold and jangly by his carefully curated metalhead armor. 

You, and this comes with a hefty dose of begrudgery, have to hand it to him– he leans great. 

“Talk about blowing up your reputation beyond repair.” 

You know he’s making fun of you– he’s not exactly subtle about it, nor is he about anything. It’s all in the lilt of his tone, how ridiculous he thinks the interwoven politics of the cafeteria are, how dumb he thinks you are for considering that in the least bit important. 

Munson’s idea of survival in high school is attacking conformity with a nuclear bomb, whereas yours is a little more artful. 

“I know this might be hard for you to comprehend, Munson,” you sigh, and the sound rattles through your ribcage– you are tired, tired of him, “given that your understanding of object permanence has clearly been stunted at an infantile level, but the world does not revolve around you."

"No?!" he croons, sarcasm slicking out of him.

"I was catching up with Ronnie.”

“Right, because you guys have been such good gal pals up to this point,” Munson scoffs. 

His face, framed by those wild waves, materializes in the reflection of your locker’s mirror, peering over your shoulder. You slam the door and pivot to face him properly, impact ringing out like a gunshot. 

He does a little jump, a shadow of his shock at you on Harrington’s porch. 

That reaction is like a shot of espresso straight to the veins.

Good. Be afraid. Asshole.

You're sure as fuck awake now!

“Lab partner love never dies,” you say, leveling his stare. “You’d know that if you showed up for Biology once in a while.” 

“Maybe I need a tutor. I could use someone to help me brush up on anatomy.” 

“Sorry. I don’t teach remedial.” 

“Maybe you should start. Rehabilitate your image.” 

“Again, who died and made you my parole officer?”

His expression cracks; a gasp of a laugh. “Oh, so you remember all that?”

“My hippocampus is alive and kicking.”

“Your hip– what?”

Your lips purse, and just as you’re about to throw another verbal dart at him, the voice of Ms O’Donnell cuts through the both of you. 

“I hope you two have a damn good excuse for loitering in this hallway– because if not, Mr Munson, I believe you’re less than one detention away from suspension.” 

Munson’s got this terminal disease where he’s more smarm than charm, despite his warped perception of himself. There’s no way he’s going to handle this with the grace that’s necessary, because O’Donnell hates him anyway. 

He keens his head in the teacher’s direction, ready to roll out some useless excuse. 

Before he’s even got the chance to speak, you cut him off. 

“Hall pass, Ms O’Donnell.” You flash the fake yellow slip at her, careful to obscure the names– you’ve usually got one of these forgeries to hand, just in case you need it, and teachers generally trust you enough not to check them out. It comes with the whole work-life balance you’ve been treading for the entirety of your high school career; you’re well-liked and you’re maintaining an impressive grade point average. They don’t give a shit what you do other than that. 

“The Weekly Streak has run into a printer snag and Nancy Wheeler’s car is on the fritz. Eddie,” his first name, which you never ever use, feels weird and heavy on your tongue, “offered me a ride to the printers to make sure it gets worked out– it’s a big issue. What with the game this weekend and everything.” 

O’Donnell’s eyes narrow. You nudge Munson right in his funny bone– hard enough for him to wince. 

“Right?”

“Right! That big game. Front page news, Ms O’D. Gooooo Tigers.”

The teacher clicks her tongue against her teeth, her rock hard stare challenging the delinquent beside you– it’s entirely likely that Munson could have blown it for himself just by virtue of being alive and in O’Donnells sight line, but you know she’s got no reason not to believe you. 

See, your reputation at the school newspaper precedes you; it’s just about the only thing that really holds your interest within the monotonous structure of Hawkins High. With your finger on the pulse of Hawkins’ student body, it only makes sense that you serve as a fierce and unforgiving editor of the Streak’s society pages– funnily enough, that hardline professionalism included never giving Munson’s infamously lame Dungeons and Dragons club a single mention in them. 

Vetoed, you’d drawled at one of the more well-mannered members that had shyly approached you about writing a piece. Not Ronnie– she knew better than that.

How come? they’d whined, as their fearsome leader glowered near the lockers just like he was doing now. 

On grounds of irrelevance. I’m not wasting valuable inches on a make believe board game club. 

This activated Munson. Lacy, you wouldn’t know valuable inches if they rammed you in the–

“Make it fast,” O’Donnell decrees, and you feel her watch you as you take off down the hallway. With a snappy quirk of your painted fingers, you gesture for Munson to follow your lead. And you better believe he does, almost tripping over his ratty Reeboks trying to keep in step with you. 

You both heave open the double doors, squinting against the unseasonable late autumn sunshine. Heels of your ankle boots clicking against the concrete, you make an unconscious beeline for the parking lot– for Munson’s van. 

“So– what now?” he asks, dur-dur dumb as all hell. 

“What now is I just got you a free pass to play hooky,” you say, little miss cactus flower, prickly with annoyance. You shield your eyes against the blazing light. “Weren’t you ditching anyway?”

“Yeeaaah,” Munson hums, scratching the back of his head, “But… the plan kind of was to smoke a joint and go to the record store.” 

“Doesn’t sound like a complete waste of time,” you hear yourself saying before you realize it, yanking at the van’s passenger door. You pause, raising an expectant eyebrow at Munson. Isn’t this your cue? 

Baffled, bewildered, but grinning despite himself, he extends that silver ringed hand and helps you haul your ass into his beat up chariot. 

Completely losing your grip on reality.

–

It’s a fugue state. It’s an out of body experience– you’re watching yourself from outside your corporeal form and you have no logical control over what you’re doing. 

That’s the only way to explain why you’re standing in Main Street Vinyl, elbow to elbow with Eddie Munson. 

But that might also be the weed talking. 

You don’t know where the hell he gets this stuff, but it’s strong– way stronger than the shit he’s sold to your friends ever since he started dealing. Well, you guess it makes sense that he’d keep the good shit for himself. You’d do that too, if you were him. 

What if I was him, you idly wonder, peering up at him as he flicks through letters R through T in the metal section. His tongue peeks out of his mouth as his ringed fingers work though the vinyl, carefully considering each one. 

This is what you mean by obvious– you, for one, would have the good conscience not to look so stoned while you’re so stoned. 

You definitely don’t look stoned right now. 

No one can even tell that you’re looking at him, up from underneath those thick lashes of yours. 

He’s got thick lashes too, come to think of it. 

Munson is actually not completely unfortunate looking– but again, if you were him, there’s no way you’d wear your hair like that. You’d keep it long-ish, though, you think. He’s got a point there; a nice curl pattern. Maybe to your ears. And the clothes obviously have to go– that denim vest is a patchwork disaster. Did he sew all those patches on himself? 

A vision of him hunched over the thing with a needle and thread in hand flits through your brain, pricking himself more than he can pick up a stitch. He’s gone out of his way to make himself look like this– kind of similar to the way you pick up your skirts so they’re always impeccably just short enough. 

Now, the leather jacket you could forgive if at least the collar was different. Maybe one of those Brando-style biker jackets, you could rock that. Or a brown leather number, to bring out your eyes– which are his eyes, of course, his crazy dark empty universes of eyes. 

The kind of eyes with the kind of stare that nails you in place and makes you want to do crazy shit like ditch class and get loaded and stand dumbly in a record store. Those eyes.

That are staring at you. He’s staring at you. Right back at you. 

“I can read your mind,” Munson monotones, unblinking. 

You go flush, heat crawling all the way up to your ears. “Wh–what?”

Then he nudges you and snorts, breaking the spell. 

“You have gotta stop thinking such dirty thoughts about me, ice princess. You’re gonna melt.” 

You scoff, shaking your head– but the cartoonish move is more to ground you in reality than a reaction to him and his idiocy. You’re Wile E Coyote after blunt force impact with an Acme anvil, shaking the circling birds away. 

“They don’t even have what I’m looking for here.” 

Stalking around the stacks of records, with no clear direction in mind, you feel Munson’s laser stare follow you. “Yeah, they don’t usually file Madonna next to Motörhead, Lacy.” 

They’re both filed under M, aren’t they? is what you want to say. “I don’t listen to Madonna,” you protest instead, all quietly miffed and earnest with a crinkle in your brow. 

“Mm, don’t think that’s true,” Munson smirks, rounding on you around the rack. “You gave me a pretty spot on rendition of Like a Virgin– or does your hippocrampus not recall?”

“Hippocampus,” you breathe out, but it’s lost in the din of Main Street Vinyl’s quiet, carpeted atmosphere, “I don’t listen to her, like, recreationally. I can’t help if that song’s an earworm.” A beat. “I also can’t help if you’re a particularly serenadable virgin.” 

“She’s gonna touch me for the very first tii-iime…”

“That was a threat.” 

You make an active attempt toward tunnel vision as you slowly tread through the store, feeling the high starting to turn on you– this was the part smoking weed that you hated, the few times that you’d imbibed in it. That lack of control over the way you were coming across. For a girl trained in the art of saying all the right things, this was dangerous. Your tongue felt both loose and heavy in your mouth, like it could come out with anything and you couldn’t stop it, it’d just roll on out. 

The malevolent presence of Munson and your pathological need to one up him wasn’t helping matters. 

Ever since the parking lot at school, you’ve been stalking around like there’s a target on your back. Evidently, you’re not the kind of girl that chills out when you smoke, which is equal parts a relief and a disappointment to Eddie. He wonders what you’d look like, mellowed out and floating. Your eyebrow unarched and your lips not poised for attack.

He’s also acutely aware that he wouldn’t know what the hell to do with you then, either. 

But he can’t tear his eyes away from you, a hyperfocus that he’s assuming is a symptom of his own buzz. Every little twitch and jump you do– it’s like it’s begging him to pay attention. Like if he looks away for even a second, he might miss something. 

“What are you looking for?” he asks, eyes trained on you while you thumb through the records. 

As much as you love music, and you do, you have a tough time describing exactly what you want to listen to. The notes in the songs that you revisit again and again read more like physical feelings, sparking off in your nerve endings. For example, listening to River by Joni Mitchell feels like something heavy is sitting on your chest. Listening to Hong Kong Garden by Siouxsie and the Banshees feels like you have fairy lights at the end of your fingertips. 

“I want something that sounds…” you say, noticing the distinct feeling of cottonmouth setting in, “Ticklish.”

“Ticklish,” Munson deadpans back at you. 

“Something that sounds like someone’s running a xylophone mallet down my spine.” 

He regards you for what feels like an excruciatingly long timewith this terrible, awful look on his face– brows ticked up over his glassy bloodshot eyes, pink mouth peeling into a grin, and this look, this look of wonderment. Like he can’t believe you’re real, and you’re here, and you’re saying shit like this to him. 

Join the club. 

“... You don’t get stoned a lot, do you?”

“Ugh!” you groan, a little louder than you mean to– the cashier shoots you a glare as you stalk past Munson, stalk past him, cheeks flaring pink. “I know what I’m talking about. I know it when I hear it– I heard a record just like that earlier this year! It’s like, some band from Scotland or something? Totally incomprehensible lyrics, yeah, but that’s what it felt like. It was like… bone deep.”

You hear Munson emit the teeniest hehe! and you just about snarl at him over your shoulder.

Rounding on the alternative section, limited as it is, you feel a welcome sense of familiarity. You haunt this corner when you can, when you’re out of sight from prying eyes. There’s only one other regular purveyor of this little corner of Main Street Vinyl that you know of. You trace a thumb over the spines of the cassette cases–it’s mostly tapes, rarely ever records because tapes are easier to import and harder to damage, and it’s always haphazardly organized–and then you spot it. 

Victoriously, you thrust it in Munson’s face, which is right over your shoulder. He’s frequenting that spot a lot recently. “Ha!”

“Oh!” he chirps, sounding almost pleasantly surprised and plucks the tape from your fingers. “... Cocteau Twins?”

You falter, eyelashes flickering as you look up at him. Dammit. He even pronounced it right. 

“You know them?” You hate how high your voice sounds.

He runs a thumb over the plastic casing, edging a little closer to you. That came outta left field. 

“This shit… sounds like what a haunted music box would sound like.” 

Aaand we’re back in the room.

“Okay…?”

“This is creepy, cursed doll music.” 

And the room is filled with assholes.

“Alright.”

“This is what you hear right before you’re about to get possessed by the ghost of Tiny Tim. The whiniest little bitch ghost of all time.” 

And all the assholes are named Eddie Munson. 

“I get it.”

“You better be careful with this stuff, Lacy-Wacy,” he teases, mocking that fraudulent concern ripped straight from an episode of Donahue. He taps the cassette case against your forehead. “Music like this is a gateway drug. A gateway drug to hanging out with, like, Jonathan Byers.”

You reach out and grab his wrist, tugging his hand and that damn tape away from your face. You’re shocked to find that the skin under your fingers is blazing hot–same as you felt through his shirt when he helped you to the door in your drunken stupor. 

Does he always run this warm? you wonder. Is it all that Satanic poseur poison coursing through his stupid veins?

“Well, it’s a little late for that,” you tell him, and you’re not quite sure why. Probably because every secret you swore would die with you is slowly but surely punching its gnarly hand from the grave, like fucking Carrie from fucking Carrie.

Munson doesn’t even express any overt shock, like he’s learning to roll with the punches of you revealing bits and pieces of yourself through sheer annoyance with him. He just cocks his head, challenging you with a silent, Really?

This chick. This blink-and-you’ll-miss-it chick.

“I ran into him in this corner a lot,” you explain breezily, tilting a shoulder up like it doesn’t bother you, like it’s never bothered you. “We’d always be standing next to each other at the listening booths, and I’d be listening to stuff I couldn’t take home and he’d be listening to stuff he couldn’t afford to buy and… We like a lot of the same music. We went out on like, one date if you could even call it that, and it didn’t work out.”

“Because he’s a creepazoid?”

“Because he was hip deep in it for Nancy Wheeler,” you supply, a green monster gurgling in the pit of your stomach. “Like every other respectable member of the male species.” 

It was the summer before junior year, a punishingly hot one even by Hawkins standards. You’ve never been good in the heat and that summer made your entire body feel ill-equipped, your skin ill-fitting. Main Street Vinyl had those big, big box fans right near the cash desk which was right near the listening booths, so you would spend the majority of your time there when you weren’t being forced to the lake or Skull Rock with your friends. 

Jonathan would look at you with alarm at first, like you were trespassing. Then he’d spy what you were listening to and sneak these small, shy smiles at you that you indulged in– at first, because you weren’t copping a lot of male attention from anyone else that summer. Eventually, it was because his shadowy eyes were always ringed with this tenderness, with knowing. Like you two were sharing a secret. It made you be able to look past the greasy hair and crippling social awkwardness. 

You know you rocked his world the day you breezed past him at the listening booth, leaned in and whispered, I love Linda Thompson's voice, don't you?

But still, the Love’s Baby Soft scented specter of Nancy Wheeler loomed large. You picked what you thought was a secluded spot in the park for your ‘date’, which included a conversation that was almost entirely cruise directed by you. Said conversation completely flatlined when you both spotted Nancy Wheeler cresting a hill, walking her family dog.

At this point, you and Nancy were most familiar with each other from the school newspaper– she, the peachy-cheeked junior, the rising star that was sure to make editor and you, the girl who knew where the parties were happening and where the bodies were buried. 

The picture of coquettishness, she offered you and Jonathan an awkward, stilted wave. Jonathan spoke a grand total of three words after she left, zeroing in on the spot where she appeared like a man possessed. 

You didn’t acknowledge his existence after that.

It’s not that you were particularly hung up on Jonathan Byers, but you didn’t expect someone like him to be able to elicit that cold sinking feeling you were used to experiencing at the hands of other boys and their ignorance. Maybe it hurt more because you thought you had something in common– something real, something that wasn’t shotgunning a can of Busch. Whatever it was, it made you sure of two things. 

You hated Nancy Wheeler, and she wasn’t going anywhere. 

You wished you didn’t hate her. But you also wished she’d dissolve into a fine mist.  

“Wheeler’s a priss,” Munson pulls you out of memory lane in a harsh left turn, face contorting into a half-grimace. It’s the general consensus on Wheeler– the shoes are too goody for everyone to be falling head-over-heels with her, if you want Eddie’s honest opinion. There’s no there there, not like with–

“I’m a priss.” It sounds like you’re defending her. In some weird way, you might be. 

I know what guys like you think of me.

“No, you’re a bitch.” 

His weight on the word bitch makes your knees feel unsteady. The way he says it. It’s not enunciated like an insult. It’s a dagger cloaked in velvet. It’s warm, like he is. It’s almost filthy. It makes you look at his mouth. 

“You’re a stone cold killer bitch,” Eddie’s voice hums low in his chest. His heartbeat is picking up, and he wonders if you can feel it where your freezing fingertips are squeezing his pulse point, “and I think–”

“You two truant assholes gonna buy anything today or am I gonna have to call the goddamn dog warden on y’all?” 

Heaved back into reality by the clerk at the cash desk. A trickle of cold sweat runs from the nape of your neck into the collar of your sweater. Heaved back into reality to see you’re still clutching Eddie Munson by the wrist, and he’s looking at you like you’re the last Popsicle. Cold shock in the middle of a summer’s day.

It gets so hot here in summer.

“I think,” you breathe as you unstick your fingers from him, suddenly aware that you’re parched and starving and your face hurts, “it’s time for me to go home.” 

“I– yeah,” Munson stumbles, also perturbed by the interruption. His red-ringed eyes gain a little more clarity. He’s seeing something you’re not seeing. He shouldn't be letting himself see that. “Let’s go.”

Let’s go back to the van. Let me make you look at me like that again. Let me see if you’re cold all over. I can fix that.

“No, I gotta…” Your head pounding, your thoughts swimming– the sharp and stupid realness of this whole afternoon coming into perfect view. What are you doing? “I need to walk it off.” 

He inhales sharply, a strangled chuckle– oof. That other shoe, that buckled heel of yours, clattering to the floor. He should have expected that, right? There’s no way you’d wanna… Because you’re you and he’s…

Eddie retreats back into himself a step or two; it looks like he’s gone all bashful, a little color dropping out of his cheeks. His hands clasping behind his back. His heart is in his big intestine. 

“That’s the second time you’ve turned me down today, sweetheart. Keep it up, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you don’t like me.”

Munson, get the fuck out of here before I ban you again! and Jerry, can’t you see me talking to somebody right now! explode in a cacophony, the boy and the keeper of the keys to the record store hollering at each other. You take this moment of interruption to nudge the door open with your shoulder. But you don’t start into the street without giving him one more look. 

“Lacy.” He’s grinning this dumb grin, eyes gone soft at the corners.

He’s giving this one last nudge.

Your heart thumps. A reminder– this is really happening. Shit. Fuck.

“That’s the thing, though,” you say, attempting to smooth your expression out with a frosty smile. “I don’t like you, Eddie.”

author's notes: of course, my eternal eternal ETERNAL THANKS for all the love you have shown this story and the anons you've sent!!! writing is crazy so thank you for caring about mine. onto the fun stuff because you know i love a reference: - he leans great. a shameless my so-called life drop but eddie to me is a kind of stunning midpoint between catalano (left back twice) and krakow (would go down on you for days) - someone in the tags said ronnie and lacy should hold hands and i don't disagree. lab partner love never dies! - there's never a bad time to listen to ace of spades by motörhead - there's also never a bad time to listen to treasure by cocteau twins, which is the album lacy is referencing - i always fee like the zombie hand reaching out of the ground motif is unfairly accredited to the living dead franchises or something like that, but of course the most iconic instance to me is from carrie (1976) because women own horror - god, we really need to bring back listening booths in record stores! like we really need to bring them back lest romance die forever. - richard and linda thompson, also forever!!!!! my headcanon for this re: jonathan byers is this particular record is a joyce byers influenced choice. joyce and lonnie loved this record (when they were happy... lol) and played it all the time when jonathan was a baby. their original copy got lost (or destroyed) and sometimes jonathan will play it in the main street listening booth but he won't bring it home because he knows it's painful for his mom. - all my stone cold killer bitches in the house make some noise - jerry from main street vinyl you will always be rob from high fidelity in MY HEART (eddie is barry even though he doesn't work there lmao) - ok my hellcats! that's all the cultural education for this chapter!! thanks again for reading, reblog and scream at me in the asks because i so appreciate (and need) the support and i'd also love y'all to send me prompts! don't be shy! i love an in-universe blurb!

[jespardon]

Jes i will share my puppy sniper thoughts if u share yours (no pressure i just CANNOT shut up)

OKAY GUYS *cracks knuckles*

Let's talk about puppy sniper.

So let's start with our good old usual "stock" red sniper, ie the one i'm always drawing if i don't explicitly state otherwise.

So the puppy thing is both a kink and also kind of a "belief" i would say ? Not a lifestyle because it's not like Sniper is trotting around collared and referring to spy as a master or owner, but it's a position that comforts him, beyond getting him aroused. Being in the privacy of the van or a lost spot in the desert and observing the world through the eyes of a dog feels much easier than acting human, normal, somewhat acceptable to society. It helps his thoughts float better and it gives him hindsight on things.

I think he would have a fixation on leather objects and craft (hence my initial headcanon that he does cobbling) because the texture is a familiar one linked to positive emotions / experiences (both hunting/bushcrafting and the petplay). Of course he'd have a collar, and if he did i think it'd either be : 1.made by himself 2.offered by spy and thus, very high quality leather 3.bought by sniper from a reputable craftman, an authentic market or something along those lines. In any of those cases, a very unique (and thus irreplaceable) old, thoroughly worn collar. The leather fixation + puppy kink + cobbling hobby is an excellent combo for him to obsess over spy's shoes and lead to all sorts of fun shoe play 😊.

Okay now, how does it all work with (red) spy ?

I think of red spy as a prideful egotistical person (among many, many other things), so there's a thorough satisfaction in having an intimidating mercenary a whole head taller than him leashed and at his feet. I also imagine spy being much more at ease with his seductivity and queerness, his job and skills being a huge help in indulging your sexuality in the 1960's without being found out or prosecuted. Sniper, on his end, has grown up mostly in isolation until being thrusted in a violent hypermasculine environment. His already shaky social skills aren't helping him handle feeling attraction towards men. There's lotsa layers here but basically, he starts feeling attracted by the assertive, authoritative yet calm spy. Something about someone that can lead others, resolve situations through talking. Sniper is both envious of the ability and fascinated by it and spy picks up on it very quickly so of course he takes great joy in toying with it and trying to push sniper's fascination further, until of course it backfires by becoming mutual.

The relationship is super imbalanced for a long, long while; sniper is just in stupid gawking admiration at spy, while spy is only entertained by sniper's actions and seeking sexual gratification from it. Neither of them have any knowledge of "pet play" or "puppy kink" per se, but it's natural for sniper to place himself in that position where he views spy as an owner that has the obvious right to dictate him what to do, since he knows better, right ? It does take a while for Spy to figure out that oh, this is actually dog themed like, for real, which he again finds a lot of fun in pointing out to sniper to embarass him. But he does indulge in it and, begrudgingly, finds it pretty hot to have this desperate guy humping on him and whining, far from the theatrical sensual sex he's used to performing (in both senses of the word).

Sniper on his end is thrilled to have his "weird" behaviours found to be acceptable and even appealling to someone and feels (almost unwarranted) gratitude towards spy. There's a real eagerness to please and be found useful ! Praise words are his immediate weakness and, on the opposite, disappointment from spy terrifies him. He's real careful about touching and respecting boundaries, follows commands almost infaillibly to the point of embarassing himself in public if asked to (with some hard limits).

tldr

im normal about the psychology of puppy sniper

[crowniko]

after watching all of The Edge of Sleep (and then playing it on loop in the background three times for the heck of it) here are my thoughts! SPOILERS BELOW!!!

I LOVED Linda! she was my favorite character in the show, of course gotta love good ol Dave and Matteo, but Linda was a badass. she was smart, thought things through, and yeah maybe was "cold" but when everyone is dying in their sleep and there's no help coming, she did what she thought was best. big respect.

the effects were really cool! loved the intro scene with the whale talking to Dave, that was so neat. The way the show was filmed too (the flashbacks, memories coming in and out, lighting, music) was all well done to create the effect they were wanting, I think. all of the flashback made stuff confusing at some points but it makes sense to the overall theme of the show, where they're all confused and inebriated on the lack of sleep. the out of focus shots, odd colors, placement of scenes, and often nightmare like scenes with the elephant. all of this made the show feel like a fever dream, which I think is cool!

as for the plotline, I really like it. I want to look into the original podcast because the cliffhanger is KILLING ME. I want to see more about the world, where was the government? what's the "cure"? how is Dave's nightmares going to win against the monster? I need more LORE. (if this is all answered in the podcast, then I'm very excited to tune in)

finally, Dave/Mark. Amazing job Mark!!! I'm so amazed by your acting and was thrilled to see this project after years of waiting. Dave was an amazing character and was pretty funny, especially in the first episode with Matteo. he also had a lot of depth shown throughout the show's flashback/characterization. I also want to learn more about him too!

Mark, and everyone else involved, y'all did a great job! I really hope that this opens the door for Mark and his many future endeavors, and I'm so excited to watch all of them!

if you haven't watched The Edge of Sleep yet, I highly recommend it! it's a short and sweet watch that'll keep you on your toes with its suspense and horror themes. the show does have a few triggers, such as body horror, gore, blood, self harm, addiction, and more just so you know! besides helping Mark get the show into the top ten, also have fun watching! :)

[nitrowyverine]

I think I write dating sim/VNs/etc reviews now? Anyway,

LOST IN LIMBO REVIEW/THOUGHTS

This VN piqued my interest, so I gave the demo a shot! This review will follow the same general format as my Obscura/Touchstarved review, except there's 7 (!!!) romance options.

Since I totally loved this game, I'm going to put the conclusion promo up here too: if Lost in Limbo interests you, consider playing it Here, Here on steam, and/or backing it Here!

ALSO! THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE DEMO!

My (long winded) thoughts are below:

(Banner image courtesy of the Ravenstar Games tumblr account pinned post. Individual character pics courtesy of tumblr posts from the studio. Individual posts are linked in character titles.)

Gameplay design thoughts:

the plot immediately sucked me in, I'm pretty invested in whatever the hell is going on with the protag, the realms, the lords, etc. I think the setup/land are deep enough to draw me in, but not so intimidating in it's depth that I'm afraid to explore more.

I always enjoy a little bit of nightmare fuel in my games, so the voidbound are perfect. They're so gross and horrible, but not just a stock zombie/nightmare creature design. Whenever the voidbound pop up, it makes the back of my neck itch, which is perfect.

I have no idea whose route I'll pick first. Usually I have one candidate that I can pick out as number 1. This game however? I go back and forth all the time, since I love all of them. I do think I have bias for Ara/Gael/Amon/Envy, maybe?

I really want to design an MC to doodle for this, but I feel like I don't know enough about other people in the realm. (Mostly, I'm assuming that standard humans don't have pointy ears? how close to our reality is the regular world?) I might say "screw it" and design an MC anyway (with some speculative clothing for once they get cleaned up)

The backgrounds have been great set pieces so far. Sometimes I catch myself just kinda staring into space at them. They've got a fantastic flavor.

Misc. Thoughts written during a replay

Fun touch to have Evie's rock image from the beginning fortune shop scene line up with the 7 LI's color schemes.

Each of the VA's does a lovely job with their voices. I've been turned off of certain dating sims because of bad voice acting, but the acting in this game is superb so far. It really helps set the richness of the story.

I have a theory that the LI's (and possibly people in Limbo in general) experience pain differently. The characters seem largely uninterested in the MC's stabbed, weakened state, beyond a "Oh that sucks....we'll clean you up later" mentality. I wonder if they have different pain tolerances, or are just less attached to such things. (Then again, Amon and Raeya have full missing limbs/eyes, so they probably have a decent perspective on pain altogether)

What does wielder/non-wielder mean? Xal says the MC "Can't wield, can't see." What do the LI's see that we don't? Ara mentions that the MC seems "Completely normal". Many mysteries.

I need those monster forms like crazy oh my goodness. Please devs PLEASE SHOW THE MONSTER FORMS

Now, to the lovely love interests!

Amon

WHO LET THIS MAN BE OVER 7 FEET TALL? PRIDE YOU HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO

I only just noticed he also has a few freckles, *chefs kiss* (Waaaiit do all of them have little freckle skin textures??? Oh this is a glorious day.)

It's hard not to love a big friendly guy. I was honestly relieved when he first showed up, because I did Envy's route first, and I was thrilled to see a friendly face in the big dark scary woods.

This does not mean, however, that I'm not excited to see what this guy turns into when he's mad.

I like that he has pity for MC when they first show up, but I do worry it makes his resolve weaker. I'm not as confident that he could handle society/reality breaking down as well as the others. Can he put aside his affable nature for when shit hits the fan?

Question: What level of fight had to happen for Amon to lose his eye? He's already huge, and has some sort of telekinetic powers. My theory is that he was taken by surprise, maybe by someone close to him.....(Envy I'm looking at you)

RIP Amon you would have loved Hawaiian shirts

Conclusion: Most likely to be the camp counselor who hurts his back from always giving piggy back rides. Least likely to keep his composure during a badly timed pun/dad joke.

Raeya

I'm fighting for my life whenever shes on screen good LORD

Similarly to Amon, I GOTTA know the story behind her prosthetic arm. Its so rad looking, but how did she lose a whole arm? (I am also considering that she was also not born with one)

Playing the demo again, she makes a specific comment about the monsters having not "infected a limb" of the MC. My bet is that's how she lost her arm.

I wish I could have spent 1:1 time with her, but it wasn't offered in the demo. I'd love to have like, a sit down discussion with her about history. (Well I'd be fine getting lectured about history and drinking tea and hanging out)

Out of everyone's motivations, I think I understood Raeya's the most. Even if she was against MC, I think her concerns are completely valid. If an alien fell out of the sky from a different reality to earth I'd ALSO be taking every precaution

She and Amon have matching ear chains, that's adorable....

I hope I can take her on a nice date and spoil her and let her relax in the full game, pretty please. Nothing bad will happen right???

Conclusion: Most likely to gently remind the waiter that you said NO pickles with your order, thank you very much. Least likely to admit to being the one who farted in a crowded room.

Envy

every other line from him is "UGGGHHH" and i love that for them.

After playing, I think I've finally realized that I've got a soft spot for grumps. just grumpy lil friends with their pouty faces

I want (vivi's) Envy's nails SO BAD. I need him to do my nails because theirs are perfect. Envy, envy PLEASE

They pretend not to care, but are already getting attached to the MC by the end of the demo. I can't wait to see what they're like when they actually DO get attached

Elephant in the room, what could he have possibly done to get himself demoted so severely? Everyone seems to be fine with him being demoted except Amon, who sheepishly vouches for him when he can.

I just wanna wrap him in a blanket burrito like you do with a spicy kitten. and then give him little smooches

Conclusion: Most likely to be they guy who gets one drink at a party and sits in the corner with the dog/cat all night. Least likely to allow their partner to willingly boop their nose with any regularity.

Pride

Old man yells at cloud? No....old man IS cloud.

The dev's tumblr has mentioned that he's a pathetic old man, but for now at least, I am afraid of his authority and power. since hes like. yaknow. the big god of this world

The VA did some fabulous work for his voice. I definitely got actual chills in certain parts. 10/10

Okay, so WHAT is this guy's deal with mirrors? He looks great, why is he worried about it. I sincerely doubt he's just 52 though, if he's a god. (as a note for all these interests, I have a feeling that the ages are their physical ages, and not their actual ages. Or at least, age relative to ours. I think they're much older in our years than in their years.)

We also didn't get any 1:1 time with Pride in the demo, so I'm fascinated to see what alone time with Pride would be like. Is he quiet? a chatterbox? Just a guy??? does he only play piano and not talk to you. (power move)

Conclusion: Most likely to show up WAY over-prepared for Parent-Teacher conferences. Least likely to understand and survive the cinnamon challenge.

Ara

Certified CUTIE PIE

We got a pretty clear demonstration of everyone's powers in the demo, except for Ara. Unless it was too subtle for me to realize, I'm not actually sure what her cool powers are yet.

If she DOESN'T have plant powers I'd be very surprised.

I keep wanting to think things like "I have to protect her" or "keep her safe at all costs". But then I remember she's likely absolutely terrifying, and I honestly should be actually afraid for anyone who gets in her way.

I would like to remind/inform everyone that so far, she is the only member of the cast who is visibly armed at all times. (Raeya doesn't count even if her arm claws look really really sharp.)

If I have to pick anyone to party with, it's probably Ara. I know she'd throw an absolute rager, but would also make sure you stay hydrated. I wanna hold her hand too. Please?

I'll go butch for her, i'll do it if thats what she wants. I'm weak

Conclusion: Most likely to be able convince you to give her your kidney. Least likely to let you skip a bloodthirsty game of monopoly because you "Have a headache"

Gael

where did he find pants long enough for him.

Okay. So its HIS fault that Amon has the deepest V-cut since time immemorial. Do you think Amon and Gael had an extensive argument about the minimum amount of clothes Amon has to wear at any given time? Because I do.

His powers certainly did not. Awaken anything in me. Nope.

he has the shortest and most perfect arc from stranger -> friendly -> ???? -> BETRAYAL

I am MASSIVELY curious about his dissociation/spacing out during the demo. He was 8 million miles away in the tower for some reason, and I HAVE to find out why. I just KNOW this man is doing some questionable shit with good intentions and I can't wait to find out what it is.

So, he has SOME issue with touch. No idea what it is, but I can't wait to find out what it is. Also noting he's the only one with full-coverage gloves in the cast. Interesting...

Conclusion: Most likely to cry after being sent those sad FB/insta animal stories. Least likely to let you open your own car/carriage/etc door under any circumstances.

Xal

He looks so soft. I have to bully him, in a good way. (Like grim from Date with Death)

I am fascinated as to why he would lie for MC. That's such a great hook to his character. What does a guy who so desperately wants to be left alone have to see to stick his neck out for a stranger?

SOMEONE get this man a NINTENDO DS POST HASTE

THIS GAME HAS TO GET FUNDED BECAUSE XAL SAYS HE HAS A CAT AND I WANT TO SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will do it, I will be the one to tuck him in when he is too eepy. I will carry him to bed and kiss his little head good night

Wait, if he can "Figure something out" by touching it, he could be like, the worlds greatest doctor. Xal please get off the couch and help me diagnose mystery ailments in a medical sitcom

Conclusion: Most likely to injure himself rigging up a Rue Goldberg machine to scratch his back. Least likely take it easy on you once he learns how to play super smash bros. (He's a fox/falco main)

Concerns:

What the Ravenstar team has already been able to accomplish is incredible. I'm worried that with 7 whole love interests (with a possible two more on the way if the kickstarter goes well), i'm worried the devs are taking on a whole lot of work. I think they're fully capable of taking this on, but I hope they don't burn themselves out in the process.

I'm pretty happy to see the kickstarter is moving along, but there's always the chance that something happens, and/or the kickstarter goal isn't met. BY THE TIME I FINISHED WRITING THIS IT GOT FUNDED LETS GOO!!! I still hope this project makes it all the way to completion beyond the kickstarter. Things can always happen, so Ive got my fingers crossed for the Ravenstar team!

OVERALL CONCLUSION:

I loved the demo, and I have now backed the project! The team is trying to hit stretch goals now, so share Lost in Limbo with your buddies! I crave content for this game like nothing else.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

PLEASE more Raul content. Headcannons, fics, I genuinely don't care I love your writing and ghoul opinions I'm biting the walls of my enclosure for more Raul stuff!!

I've got a one-shot for our boy Raul coming up, but I also promised more headcanons, so enjoy! He's such a sweetheart and, like with Cooper Howard, I'm a real mark for reserved and lonely old men rediscovering sex.

Raul Tejada (Fallout: New Vegas) NSFW Headcanons 2

Not great at dirty talk, per se, but he can be very sweet and flirtatious in a way that can really get you going, anyway. He thinks dirty things, certainly, and when you're driving him extra crazy he may mutter one or two of them quietly, or grunt them out in Spanish if he knows you don't speak the language. He's both rusty and afraid to frighten you, or disrespect you in a way that turns you off. If you're prone to dirty talk yourself, he'll enjoy it, but he does get rather red-faced about it, even a tad flustered sometimes, especially in the beginning.

If your gun skills aren't as high as you'd like them to be, he's happy to provide you with some training on how to shoot. He's thrilled to know that you're better equipped to take care of yourself...and it's a great excuse to get into your personal space and hold you in a way that comes across as natural, as well as a way to show off something he's skilled at in a safe environment. He feels like a pervert while he does it, though; rapidly, his only thoughts become about how nice you smell, how warm and soft you feel, until all he can think about is bending you over the nearest stable surface. If you notice him getting a bit hard during one of your lessons, don't be shy.

Not much of an exhibitionist, or even one for quickies in most places. He's not particularly interested in really fooling around much if you aren't somewhere explicitly safe, or damn-near. Not for a lack of desire towards you; he simply worries too much for your safety. Fears that he could lose you because he was distracted by his own desires, and knows that if that happened, it would literally kill him.

Do I need to say that he would enjoy you playing damsel in distress so he can save you? The feeling of saving you, protecting you is satisfying for its own reason, but he's also a big fan of just how appreciative you are afterwards. Who doesn't love a good "thank you" blow job? It's fairly apparent in his characterization and his backstory that something like that would be right up his alley, but I think you'd have to initiate something like that yourself.

Honestly, I think pretty much anything that isn't in the "vanilla book of sex" is going to have to be suggested by you. Raul has unconventional desires, he has kinks...but he's also old, often tired, and usually just a little too skittish and self-conscious to bring anything like that up himself. As I've discussed before, I don't think BDSM or anything in that area would really be his thing, but I believe most other things he could be persuaded to at least try out if you're interested in them. He wants to make you happy. Plus, some of the things you want sound hot...

[ao3cassandraic]

When angels overplay

Angels, playing a human role new to them, routinely overplay, in delight at their own cleverness and the sheer fun of roleplay. (Demons mostly don't. Crowley only piles role upon role on Bildad the Shuhite because Aziraphale prods him into helping con the angel posse. Until then, Bildad's basically just some guy -- if a guy who asks some rather foreboding leading questions -- to Job and Sitis. In s1, Hastur la Vista looks awful, but plays his role at Megiddo tolerably well; it's Warlock's child-outing-the-naked-emperor bit rather than any solecisms on his part that mess up his scene.) Angels just can't seem to figure out that sometimes less is more.

Muriel totally overdoes the Human Police Officer schtick -- Mrs. Sandwich clocks them just from a moment's glance at them, and so does Aziraphale -- because Muriel doesn't really know what they're doing so they think the thing to do is MORE OF IT. They kinda even know they don't know, but they have to get the job done so they just soldier (heh) right on. When Aziraphale pretends to buy their disguise, they are visibly thrilled.

Aziraphale totally overdoes the investigative-reporter schtick with the publican in the Resurrectionist. He settles down once he's getting some actual useful information, but the way he tosses around journalist jargon at the start is just as overegged as Muriel's Inspector Constable bit, and it comes from the same place of delight in roleplay.

Aziraphale's West End stage-magician career is also a masterpiece of Overegging It (when he isn't a basket of nerves, anyway). He only gets away with it because stage figures are allowed to be mega-flamboyant.

Here's the fun bit. Y'all ready for the fun bit? Here it is.

This applies to the Metatron too. He overplays his role as Kindly Oh-So-Human Appreciator of Aziraphale.

Oh, he does pretty well, the astute manipulative formerly-human-himself sod. He gets by Nina, no problem. The latte for Aziraphale (miracled or not) is a great gambit. He gets by Crowley, even -- Crowley's huge, huge, HUGE mistake is letting Aziraphale talk to the Metatron alone. (Crowley's contempt for Muriel's overplay, which he extends to angels in general, does him a very bad turn here.)

But then the Metatron says something that ground my brain-gears to a halt on my very first s2 watch. "You’re a leader, you’re honest, you don’t just tell people what they want to hear."

I'm sorry, are we talking about the same angel? The angel Aziraphale? The angel who flatly refuses to lead his troops in s1? The lying liar angel who lies lyingly even to the archangels and God Herself? The angel who when at odds with Heaven's archangels invariably finds a way to tell them what they want to hear, even if he has to convince them they want to hear it?

That angel?

Look, sure, it's meant as flattery, but the thing is, I don't think that is even the kind of angel Aziraphale wants to see himself as. He's not Michael or Uriel or Shax or Furfur, jockeying for empty titles and authority. He knows he's dishonest, and he's actually pretty honest with himself about it -- he confesses his lies to Crowley more than once over the millennia! He goes along to get along because it mostly works for him (and, of course, because he is always, always afraid).

But the Metatron clearly expects Aziraphale to buy this overegged line of utter boardroom-bafflegab bullshit. (Oxshit. Whatever. It's shit.) And the old boy's pretty damn pleased with himself at how well he thinks he's doing; he just oozes self-satisfaction.

I continue to hope Aziraphale doesn't buy it. He doesn't buy it. He does his standard go-along-to-get-along thing until he can get back to the bookshop and try to (codedly, codedly, anxiously, anxiously, the Metatron is still near) ask for Crowley's help.

I'm willing to be wrong about this; it's possible this is a cue to the audience -- rather than to Aziraphale -- that the Metatron isn't to be trusted. I don't think I am wrong, though. I think the Metatron went too far and Aziraphale (who is intelligent) caught it. Or possibly he'll catch it in (deus et Amazon volent) s3 when he's had a moment to consider.

P.S. I love that for all the swirling uncertainty about the details, the fandom has quickly -- and I believe accurately -- settled on the Metatron as the hate-sink string-pulling villain. We also seem to be pretty much agreed that there's one or several cons happening around the s2 ending, though again we're all over the place on the details. It's funny! I love y'all!

[riveranova]

(A/N): Aaaaand mama's back! First of all, let me say how grateful I was and am to get so many messages from people sharing their stories and wishing me all the best - made me tear up multiple times not gonna lie. Thank you all so much and let's dive right back in. <3

IkePri NSFW Headcanons x GN! Reader - Part 2

Warnings: Smut | minors DNI, would this really be a Nova original if there wasn't at least a lil bit crack?, Licht's getting a little sad

Characters: Chevalier, Luke, Yves, Jin, Licht, Leon, Ikemen Prince

Word count: 690

Chevalier Michel

yk i had a thought for this one

obviously hes a top

but but, hear me out - what if he wasn't?

:)

imagine his cold, blue eyes that normally resemble a frozen lake

well that thick ice is now shattered as he's pressing his head into his pillow, trying not to wake up his annoying brothers (Clavis) while you suck him off

hes a lil bit embarrassed about the way his fists and thighs are clenched together because hes Chevalier Michel, no one makes him this weak

well, exept for you of course

but no one is allowed to find out

i think that hes a little bit bratty as a bottom

like, you want to make him beg? well beg for it.

its kind of a back and forth

but just threaten him to stop and its like a different man lies before you

just imagine him beg for you to get him off in that deep voice

Luke Randolph

i'm a huge suporter of the 'luke only cuddlefucks' theory that a great researcher (me) brought to life

i mean that man sleeps the entire day so why not, right?

he gets horny really fast, just like Gilbert

hes also big, and i dont only mean his body

big boy, gimme a big booooy-

strong hands hold you in place - in front of him, holding you against his chest while slowly fucking you from behind

100% whispers sleepy shit into your ear

honestly so sweet

idk why this is so funny to me but imagine him just falling asleep mid-sex

you're just laying there like '...uh''

lucky for you, this man is into sleep play, so just finish the job yourself~

Yves Kloss

honestly? i think hes one of those really cute and soft tops

soft tops are the best, are they not

but i don't think hes really focused on the sex part

hes a big aftercare guy

he honestly just wants to spoil you and make sure you're all pretty for him

150 step korean skincare routine after every single session without fail

bathing together with him is the most normal thing in the world

hums into your ear while massaging your shoulders

praise praise praise

i honestly think that Yves would be so fucking obsessed with you - in a non-weird way tho

if youre comfortable then he is too <3

Jin Grandet

alright, heres my completely objective take on him

daddydaddydaddydaddydaddydaddy

god i love this man so much

crush me with those honke- okay, sorry

i think hes the kind of guy who doesn't want to have one big session but like short ones scattered across the day

lil quickies yk

hes also shameless

so he just pulls you away whenever he wants to and you know what he wants

he has these 'please im so horny its not cool anymore' eyes

and if youre like me then fuck it, leggo

gives zero fucks about how loud you are

castle staff hates it when he does that but as i said

shameless (hot) asshole

Licht Klein

grumpy ass bottom

not even bratty, just grumpy as fuck

but i think thats what makes the entire thing so thrilling for him

yeah so what if he doesnt care what you do? what are you gonna do about it?

okay maybe hes a little bratty

not the guy that makes a lot of sounds while having sex

he kinda just lays there enjoying the attention hes getting from you - the sex is just a lil bonus

tries to take control on very impatient days

but nuh- uh, his moody ass is staying down

100% sure that he has these 'pls humiliate me' days

theyre rare, yeah, but getting told hes the 'bad sibling' his entire life fucked a little with his brain

pls give him aftercare

Leon Dompteur

i swear i need three tries to get his last name right every single fucking time

anyways, this mans obviously a top

he treats you like youre the deity hes praying to every single day

literally worthsips you so much

i think hes a big vanilla boi

no choking or bondage, just sweet sweet vanilla sex

his hands are huge and everywhere, like a blanket that just never ends

big praise guy too

loves to give it and absolutely thrives off of getting some back

please tell him that hes doing a good job, tell him how good his cock is making you feel

hes a big cuddler too, so get ready for some cozy aftercare <3

[lihikainanea]

I know you have had a little writers block and not much time to write but in case this can inspire more tiger and Bill hear goes. So Bill is working on a movie that is a mess. He took the job because because he really loved the director, but lets so with rewrites and other politics that director quit. Bill was still in a contracted he could not easily get out out and he did not want to quit something he had already put work into.

Filming finally started back up with a new script and he was doing his best to make his character believable. But his neppo-baby co-star was not helping. Of course he was also considered a neppo-baby by the US press but he did not think he was not a brat like this woman. She wanted to change things in the script. She wanted special foods and no one could talk to her unless she was officially on set. He could not even get her to go over lines or how he could respectfully touch her during scenes since they were playing a couple.

He of course talked though things with Tiger as much as he thought he could but this was a very tough shoot. He would come home late and only get about 6 hours before having to be back on set.

His mind is wheeling one night when he has to do a love scene with this awful girl the next day. Tiger calms him enough for him to fall asleep. His brain has other ideas to fix the thoughts he has about the next day. He dreams of actually having an affair with awful girl. And the sex is just....he wakes in cold sweat. He was moaning in his sleep and he can not even look at Tiger. And boy does he not want to go to work that day either.

Ohhhhh I like this.

Look, I mean, with how many films actors do--every once in awhile, they must work with fellow castmates that they just hate. Abhor. Their hatred is so thinly veiled that it's incredibly palpable to the crew onset, but thankfully things rarely ever make it to the press because of NDAs and big ass scary lawyers and the like. But every once in awhile--we, the ever little-seeing public--we get wind of it. Think Don't Worry Darling. The drama surrounding that production, for the so many reasons it seems to entail, was just--unf, chef kiss to those of us that still love the thrill of a little celebrity drama.

And I'm sure Bill, in all of his perfectionist nature, was also hated on a few sets. His perfectionist nature. His insistence on trying the scene 100 different ways, for 100 different takes, until he was satisfied. Not everyone performs to that calibre nor do they hold themselves accountable to such lofty expectations as that big swedish talking tree, but that's just who he is. That's how he works.

But y'know, I'd even venture to say that it's quite rare that Bill actually likes his castmates and fellows actors he works with. That's not to say that he hates their guts--not at all. But rather he's just pretty...ambivalent about the whole thing. Neutral. He's the Switzerland of film sets. He's a pretty private person in general, a pretty guarded individual, and for him this is a job. Onscreen chemistry is far more important than actual chemistry in this line of work, and he's able to separate the two. He can have great onscreen chemistry with someone that he's not super friendly with, and he doesn't feel any inclination to add the to the inner workings of his closest social circle. Beers after a long day on set is one thing, the occasional celebratory dinner, gifts for the make up and costume crew. Getting to know everyone on a first name basis. But beyond that, Bill is more than happy to go back to his trailer between takes, or go back to his apartment at the end of the day, and cook dinner with tiger or have drinks with some of his friends who flew out to spend a few days with him.

And on that note, he's probably had to work with a lot of actors that he really doesn't like. People who either take themselves way too seriously (Bill thinks method acting is the most ridiculous fucking thing anyone could ever do), or the opposite--people who don't take this seriously at all. And if you call Bill a nepo baby to his face you'll likely be tackled violently from stage left by tiger--but it's also why he's ultra sensitive about those nepo baby actors who don't have any talent, and don't even have the work ethic to build it up.

It's still like pulling teeth to get Bill to admit that his laast name opened up a few doors for him, but he'll also be the first to admit that his initial acting jobs weren't....uh, they weren't great. But he worked at it, he honed his craft, he worked his ass off, and now nobody can say the opportunities he's gotten have been handed to him.

But y'know, the thought of nepotism--well, it doesn't really bother some people.

And maybe on a recent film set, Bill is living in his version of hell. His love interest in the film is a girl in her young to mid-twenties, the type who grew up with two famous parents and all of a sudden decided she wanted to act--so roles were handed to her. Bill's not quite sure how she even got the job given how their chemistry read went, with Bill nearly glaring daggers at her the whole time. She's just the type of person he can't stand. She's loud about everything. She comes with an entourage to everything. It's always over the top, all the time. She never learns her lines. She doesn't give him anything to work with in a scene, reciting her lines like a robot and not leaving anything to improv, natural reactions. She needs a million takes for one scene--not because she's a perfectionist--but because she forgot her lines, or didn't listen to the notes the director gave her. Bill is pretty convinced this entire film could have shot in half the time if she'd just be a little bit of a fucking professional about it.

The whole thing irks him at first, then just pisses him right the hell off shortly after. She's late for the call time, when the other actors are sitting in the transport car well before the ass crack of dawn waiting for her to come out her house. She comes into the makeup trailer blasting her music and yelling along with her entourage, while Bill is reviewing his scene changes and trying to get his head into his character for the day--they knock over his coffee, get in everyone's way, and just never shut the fuck up. Her friends--and her--are all filming all the time, and Bill spends most of his time between takes trying to dodge ending up on someone's instagram or tiktok.

But y'know, it's just so pitifully ironic that the only scene this girl is keen to rehearse--a little too keen, actually--are any of the kissing scenes, or the sex scenes. And with one scheduled in just a few days time, this little nepo baby has been all over Bill trying to find proper times--evenings, of course, with a little wine to loosen up--for them to uh, practice. Bill's gag reflex has been barely contained.

And like, tiger bears the brunt of his rants at the end of every filming day. Whether it's 2AM or 2AM or anywhere in between, he always FaceTimes her when he wraps the day and tiger always thinks that vein in his neck is real damn close to bursting.

"She just...she doesn't get it tiger," he rants, pausing to take a drag of his cigarette, "This is a fucking joke to her. This is my job, my profession, and it's a fucking joke to her."

"Has anyone told her?" she asks, "Maybe she needs to be called out on it."

"Her dad's studio is partially funding this one," Bill exhales, the camera shaking as he continues to walk.

"You're fucked then," tiger smiles sadly. Bill just makes a frustrated noise before continuing to rant for the next hour.

And like, maybe tiger goes to visit him on set right? And she's not it before, the whole rehearsing an upcoming steamy scene with him--but wait wait, I'm getting ahead of myself here.

So, tiger visits him on set and sees firsthand what a fucking nightmare this girl is. Tiger spends most of her time in his trailer but somehow, she still has to dodge what feels like a million cameras all linked to a hundred different kinds of social media, all from her entourage. They ain't shy about questions that are none of their damn business either--shit like who she is, how she knows Bill, what she's doing there.

"I'm his bodyguard," she cracks, except tiger is kind of scary when she's pissed off and she's not really blinking so suddenly the gaggle of girls don't really know what to think.

In any case, tiger can definitely see why Bill has been so pissed off lately. Everything is a joke to this girl, she doesn't take anything seriously, and suddenly she's just real excited about the scenes coming up in a few days.

"We should practice tonight!" she says gleefully, as both her and Bill are sitting in the makeup trailer getting all un-done after the day. Tiger quirks a brow from the back of the room where she's playing with one of the other actor's dogs.

"No thanks," Bill says immediately.

"You can come by, I'll get some wine, we can loosen up."

"No," he says again.

"We need to rehearse," she continues, "We need to practice."

"I've had enough practice."

And thankfully one of the make up artists--tiger makes a note to give her a big hug after--one of the make up artists sees every single hair on Bill's neck stand up.

"Bill, sorry--can you stop talking? It's getting the make up caught in the creases and making it hard to remove," she says kindly. Bill gives her a wide smile.

"Sure, sorry," he says softly.

And that's the end of that.

But like, look. It's plain as day. Bill is chainsmoking. He didn't sleep that night, he just rants and rants at how repulsed he is, and how much he's dreading the next 1.5 weeks worth of scenes. Tiger does her best to distract him--keeps his whisky glass full, hell she even gets him in the sauna and sucks his soul out from his dick just to try and get his mind off it. But the sun rises the next morning as much as we sometimes wish it wouldn't, and Bill has to go to work.

I'll be waiting for you in your trailer bud," tiger says reassuringly, "Remember, you can take as many breaks as you need."

But y'know, here's the thing. Bill is getting through it, because he's a goddamned professional. Is he having fun? No. Does he hate every second of it? Yes. But it's not that. It doesn't take him long to figure out that this girl...she's purposely fucking up the scenes, just so they have to do them again. And again. And again. The scene where he has to push her up again a wall, rip her shirt open, and kiss the hell out of her? Somehow, that scene took the entire day to shoot. 57 takes.

The actual sex scene, him on top of her, both of them wearing nothing but tiny little pasties? Somehow, that took two entire days to shoot. More than 100 takes.

On any set that Bill has been on, things like that could usually be shot in anywhere from 4-6 takes--maybe half a day, depending on lighting and equipment needs.

Bill was livid. He drew the line initially and demanded a closed set, after she brought her entire entourage to watch that day. It took a lot of negotiating, but Bill wasn't budging on it.

And every single day that Bill went to set and have to film that, when he'd get home--man, he took it out on tiger. The poor girl was ravaged. Bill just needed her, needed to completely wreck her, just to get the taste and feel and everything of that other pain in the ass as far away from him as possible.

But y'know, Bill's mind is a cruel place.

And maybe its triggered by something small. He has a long day on set so tiger goes shopping, and when he comes back to his rented apartment she has some stuff strewn everywhere and Bill spots a shirt on the bed. His blood boils.

"What the fuck is this?" he marches over to it, holding it up.

"It's....my new shirt?" tiger says cautiously, "I thought it was cute."

"Get rid of it tiger," he snaps. He grabs his lighter from his pocket, flicking it open and holding it to the shirt.

"Okay whoa," tiger jumps, grabbing the shirt from him, "Easy bud. What's going on."

"She has this shirt," he seethes, "I don't ever want to see it on you."

"Ah," tiger says, "Right. You won't see it again bud."

"Promise?" he puts the lighter away.

"Promise.

But it's enough to just...kickstart some part of Bill's brain that should have stayed dormant. And that night, he drifts off to sleep with tiger in his arms and his thumb in her mouth--except he dreams of her. And it's ~spicy~. A stupid ass, unreasonable sex dream that felt really good. Amazing sex, actually, and from the noises he was making tiger wasn't sure if he was in pain or having the time of his life but the piece of plywood digging in to her back gave her a small inclination.

That is, until he woke up and all but shoved her away with enough force that she almost went tumbling off the bed.

"Bill!" she shrieked, but he was already scratching at his skin and lightly smacking his own face.

"No no no no no," he muttered, "No no no god fuck no."

"Bud?"

His eyes snap to hers and they're wild, pupils huge, his hair sticking up all over the place and his chest heaving.

"You," he says, out of breath, "Here. Now."

"What--"

"Now."

And tiger doesn't have time to do anything before two long arms wrap around her waist and haul her up with force, slamming her into his chest.

"Fuck me," he growls into her neck.

"What?" tiger's still trying to get her wits about her because a second ago she was asleep and comfy and now this wild ass enraged beast has his hands all over her and she can't quite keep up.

A hard spank lands on her ass and she squeals a little, but then he has his fist balled in her hair and his teeth biting at her neck.

"Fuck me," he growls again, "Fuck me into next fucking week."

"Bill, what the hell is going--"

But then suddenly she's in the air, and then she's pinned under his body as he looms--big and scary and totally wild--above her.

"Tiger, I just had a dream about her," he snaps, "And now you need to get it the fuck out of my head so that I never have to see it again. So I'm only going to ask you one more time."

He yanks her head back, licking up her neck before biting down hard on her earlobe. His other hand cups her harshly through her panties and she gasps.

"Fuck me," he growls.

Tiger is all too happy to oblige.

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Half Sibling AU

What is Luz and Hunter's relationship in this AU?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOKKKKKK THIS IS A GOOD ONE

I'm gonna put most of this answer under a read more, since this is all stuff I'm going to be keeping tightly under wraps for a few chapters in DoaF, but Luz and Hunter's entire thing is something I'm too excited about to not ramble about it

So the short story is that Luz and Hunter's relationship goes-

Mortal Enemies but in a grade-schoolers-on-the-playground way except the adults are giving them weapons -> Anything that That Idiot can figure out, I can figure out something even better with my way better magic! -> We helped each other not die in a drastic situation, but that doesn't make us friends...right? we cant be friends, we're Mortal Enemies -> Secret Friends, in more ways than one, but publicly they're Mortal Enemies. fistfighting is a legitimate love language -> overprotective and overly traumatized Siblings

Doaf is taking place during the Secret Friends part

The longer story goes more like this-

When Luz gets her first bounty at 9, it alerts Belos to her presence on the Isles in the present. He does whatever he does in cannon to figure out that Luzura the Crab Maiden was actually Eda the Owl Lady's own daughter! He found it a bit ironic, that the most annoying thorn in his side he'd ever had to deal with was the mother of the person who helped him meet the Collector.

Knowing he had to ensure that Luz completed the time loop, he decides to make Hunter his newest Golden Guard a few years earlier than he had planned. Belos had been considering accelerating the Grimwalkers training, but with the Luzura development he decides it's worth the risk. Besides, the boy seems smart enough, he'll learn on the job.

((Lilith thought the new Golden Guard was a short demon until she heard his voice))

Belos gives the Golden Guard a special assignment, one quite similar to Lilith's. He is tasked with observing a new, dangerous up-and-coming criminal, 'the Owlet', and learning as much as he can about her. He claims that he feels the Owlet shows great magical promise, and could be a valuable asset to the Empire if she could be convinced to turn away from her mothers wild ways and join a coven.

((It took all of Lilith's self control to keep a straight face when Belos said that. She had only met Luz maybe two dozen times over the last few years, but she knew the girls love for and loyalty to Edalyn was unshakable))

Hunter was absolutely thrilled to get his staff, and his assignment. He took to his task with all the might his eleven-year-old body could muster, and set off for Bonesborough to track her down

He is very disappointed when he finds her playing in the woods near town. This little kid was some kind of new big bad criminal? She was wandering around the woods, talking to herself and swinging a stick around, Titans sake she was wearing otter jammies!

Hunter figured it would be easier to just catch her then and there, so Uncle could just show Owlet herself that he was a good person, and that wild magic was bad, and then he could give Hunter an assignment fitting the Golden Guard.

Luz bit him.

It left a scar.

Most of the teeth marks fade over the years, but the ones from her primary fangs never leave his arm.

From that first meeting, a rivalry was born! Any time the Owlet and the Golden Guard ran into each other after that, they would pretty much try to kill each other. That turned into more of a proper rivalry as they grew older.

Owlet would create a new potion, Golden Guard would learn a new spell with his staff to counter it. Golden Guard would use some new cool parkour move, Owlet would stay up late training to try and keep up with the older boy.

Until an incident on the Knee, when Hunter is 13 and Luz is 11.

Luz and Eda had been collecting ingredients for potions, Hunter is up there on assignment with a squad of guards. The two groups run into each other, and of course a fight breaks out. Owlet and Golden Guard get separated from the rest.

They run into and upset some kind of demon with storm magic, who joins their fight, and Luz ends up pushing Hunter out of the way of a blow that could have killed him. The demon kicks up a storm, and Hunter, injured, tired, horrified, and confused, grabs an injured Luz and manages to get the both of them into a very small cave to wait out the storm.

The two kids work together to treat each others injuries, and after learning that neither of them have magic, they start to bond. It takes hours for the storm to pass, and when it does Owlet and Golden Guard part ways, find their respective camping parties, and expect things to be the same as they were before.

But the next time they wind up chasing each other across the Night Market and out into the woods, far from other people, their fighting kinda just...stops. The both of them had wondered about how the other kid was healing up, and after a few awkward questions they hear the Owl Lady searching for them.

Owlet runs to her instead of calling for her.

Hunter doesn't give chase.

Next time they're alone, they talk more.

Even more the next time.

And eventually they become genuine friends.

I'm debating having Luz give Hunter a secret Penstagram scroll a bit earlier than he gets the one from Darius in cannon, so that might be a thing but I'm undecided.

They're still really competitive, and sometimes they'll spend their secret hang-out sessions sparring for fun.

Things are kind of...awkward tho.

Bc of the whole, y'know, wanted criminal and high ranking law enforcement officer thing.

They try not to talk about...that. There are a lot of things they try not to talk about.

And by the end of the story, they're siblings through and through.

[darlin-djarin]

Hiya! I've been lowkey stalking ur blog for the last few weeks bcs i recently got rllllllly into dinluke and saw ur recent post about fic, so now I'm wondering if you have any reccs (dinluke ofc)?! I like ur content and read ur tags so I'd say our taste in fic probably overlaps. Hope you have a nice day!! 🌻

hey!! and yeah i’ve got a few fics that i think a lot of dinlukers might like

first let me link @transmascskywalker's list because that’s where i started out originally!!

now as for my fic recs~

some of these fics might overlap, i’m just putting down the ones i loved most. i’m sure i’ve read tons more but these are the ones i found that you can busy yourself with :)

The Storm by shirozora

Din Djarin needs a new ship.

Greef Karga makes him a deal - do some work for the guild and he'll get a brand new gunship. One such job takes him to a planet with a volatile storm system to track down a double-crossing bounty hunter. What he doesn't know is that the bounty hunter is there to loot an ancient Jedi temple. What neither of them know is that someone else is also on the planet searching for the temple.

And then the storm rolls in.

in-universe

sfw

multichapter/parts

my comfort fic btw ^^ i’ve read it so many times

Mystery Man by snapdragonpop007

Luke is seeing someone, apparently.

And really, it’s none of Anakin’s business.

Really.

modern au

sfw

multichapter/parts

one of the best, funniest fics i’ve ever read ^^

Unfold by SilverScriptings

Han can’t help but be suspicious of a certain Mandalorian who’s been spending an awful lot of time at the Jedi Temple…

in-universe

sfw

multichapter/parts

A Little Farther Down the Line by Chromat1cs

Austin, Texas, 1973. Din Djarin plays the guitar, worries about his kid, and runs aimlessly from a past that pulled the roof down around his ears. When a stunningly-talented duo of up-and-coming performers turns Din’s plans of being a simple session musician clear on their head, Din must decide between the safety of mundanity or the unlooked-at thrill of following his heart lest the tape run out on this track of his life before he’s through recording it.

modern (1970’s) au

nsfw

multichapter

the warmest bed i’ve ever known by ceedawks

pre-original series, din djarin is injured on a remote planet and found by an incessantly chatty farm boy named luke skywalker || i won't ask you to wait, if you don't ask me to stay || aka "making out with hot farm boys doesn't count as breaking the creed if he's blindfolded during it".

pre-ANH/meet on tatooine au (in-universe)

nsfw

multichapter

We Two Scorched the Earth by annathaema (moony)

That left Luke with a much bigger problem: The Sand People knew he was here, they’d likely sabotaged or stolen the speeder by now, and he was stranded in a cave with nothing but a rifle with three rounds left, a survival pack good for only a couple of days, and no transport home. Great. Luke leaned against the wall of the cave and tipped his head back, thumping the back of it against the stone over and over. He closed his eyes and wished for rescue.

Someone groaned.

pre-ANH/meet on tatooine au (in-universe)

nsfw

oneshot

Never leaving well enough alone by DarkIsRising

or Five Times Din and Luke Met (and one time they never parted)

He’s drunk, and he isn’t quite sure how that happened. That’s not true, Luke does remember vaguely how it happened, more or less, and it all started with Han.

in-universe

nsfw

multichapter

Yoda’s Academy for Li’l Padawans by MissDinahDarling

Being a new student is hard.

Being a new student whilst your socially awkward father avoids the school at all costs and your new teacher pines uselessly over a man he’s never met before is even worse.

But by god, Grogu is gonna get through this.

modern au

sfw

multichapter

Just Like Heaven by Kushana

At first, he watches.

Then, he touches.

in-universe

sfw (both aroace ^^)

oneshot

Romance As a Series of Debacles by The SexierEvilerCora

Han stumbles on a golden opportunity to make life difficult for Boba Fett, and drags Luke along as backup to crash a Mandalorian party.

Things do not go as planned for anyone involved.

modern au

nsfw

it’s unfinished with only one chapter but it’s still worth the read

Honey Lemon Popsicle by coffeecatsme

“Good morning,” Luke chirps, not even looking up from the stove, “my honey bunches of oats.”

Din blinks several times, trying to get his muscles to unfreeze, and opens his mouth.

Then closes it.

Then opens it again. “What did you just call me?”

5 times Luke calls Din increasingly weird pet names, and 1 time he finds out Din likes it.

modern au

sfw

oneshot

Restraint and Relaxation by Aureutr_Accoredge

Queen Amidala is sick of watching her son run himself ragged for every good cause he finds. When he collapses at his sister's engagement gala, it is the last straw.

Luke balks, so she summons one of her Mandalorian Knights to take him to the family's lakeside villa to make him rest.

By any means necessary

in-universe

nsfw

oneshot (v good ^^)

these are all the ones i recommend for now! i’ve read other really good fics, but these ones ^^ are the ones i’ve found myself return to at least one way or the other.

please let me know if you're looking for something more specific as well!! i'll do my best to find something for your tastes

[thecloudstan]

So happy you're enjoying "Rebirth". The devs gave us some good Rufus/Cloud scenes. Totally love how those two ended up flirting during their second fight at GS. Honestly, the devs just did a great job fleshing out Rufus (and the Turks) as characters and bringing up a lot of characterization that was established in the novels into the game. That one scene where Glenn mocks Rufus for being a "pigheaded, pathetic, daddy-hating" child gave me chills and made me wanna clap at the same time!

That Gold Saucer fight really threw me for a loop, I was shook for so many reasons. I'm so thrilled that they made him one tough cookie and decided to stick with this theme of one-on-one. Does Cloud HAVE to fight him alone??? No. But does he immediately acquiesce? Of course he does 😂

As far as Rufus' response to Glenn, it tickled me to no end that he was basically like...yeah bitch, I own it. Being a daddy-hating handful nightmare human with high standards and low morals really gave him every single thing he possesses. And BOY does he like possessing things!! And pointing out when he possesses those things!!!

Two Turks things I'm delighted about: Elena's character, her VA's performance, everything. She's fantastic and I loved every second she showed up, even though she has that tendency (in the original) to be the bratty, brash, kinda dumb one. Those things are true, but she was also always very formidable. All the Turks were goofy one minute and downright intimidating the next, so I'm happy to see how beautifully that balance was struck with all of them. Second thing: TSENG ON A BATTLEFIELD. I was so convinced he was about to just call in a heli or something, but no. He gagged me!

The tone of the game is just amazing. Everyone in the FF7 universe had the tendency to play comic relief when the moment called for it, so I'm glad it felt so closely tied to the original game in that way. It's more like real life, isn't it? Sometimes everyone is laughing and the next moment it's back to business. And you never get a heads up on tragedy.

Thanks for the ask, nonnie!!

[your-divine-ribs]

Forbidden Part 25

Words: 2k

Forbidden Masterlist Main Masterlist

There's certainly a very different atmosphere in the car on the drive back into town. Any kind of tension, sexual or otherwise, has completely dissipated. Johnny's relaxed and amiable, one arm resting crooked out the open window and the other hand tapping out a beat on the steering wheel to some eclectic sounding jazz music flowing from the stereo which he's cranked right up. He enthuses about the music with a newfound twinkle in his eye and you smile to yourself, knowing that you put it there.

You're loathe to bring his attention back to the earlier contentious issue of your affair, but at the same time you can't totally relax until you know how things stand between the two of you. You know that this will never be any more than a casual arrangement and that's perfectly fine with you, but even so, you're enjoying yourself far too much to let things come to an end.

"So..." you begin, nervously licking your lips, stealing a glance at Johnny's relaxed profile. "Does this mean that things are... on again... with me and you?"

Johnny turns his head briefly, a lackadaisical smile playing on his lips like he doesn't have a care in the world. Jesus... sex really chills this guy out. He ought to hire you as his full-time therapist... you'd work wonders on him.

"I think you know the answer to that one love," he says, removing his hand from the wheel to nudge the volume of the radio down before he's grazing the top of your bare thigh with his fingertips. You've still not bothered to put your panties back on, relishing the naughty feeling of nakedness under your dress, the sticky reminder of him between your thighs sparking that delicious sinful feeling of misbehaving.

"You won't regret it... I can promise you that."

He looks delighted but a small cloud flits over his face. "We do have to be careful though, and I mean it this time. No more sneaky hook-ups on campus. If you wanna do that kind of thing with Van then that's your call, but I can't run the risk of us getting caught, okay?"

"That's fine, I can be discreet."

You speak earnestly even though deep down you know that you'll struggle to stick to his rules. Before long you'll be trying to entice him again somewhere inappropriate, the thrill of the risk just too tempting to ignore, the fact that you know he won't be able to resist as soon as you slip your hand down the front of his jeans and fix him with that needy pout of yours.

"Good, and I've been thinking that it'll be even easier to get away and have some time to ourselves soon when we're on this Italy trip in a few weeks."

Your heart sinks at his words, the eagerness etched over his face as he glances over at you again. You can't share in it. "Ahh the Italy trip... that's just the thing... I'm errr... I'm not actually going..."

"You're not?" He sounds shocked, a furrowed brow of dismay. "But why on earth not? It's such a great opportunity... and I don't just mean for us. The history, the culture, the arts... I thought the whole department was going?"

You shrug to try and hide your disappointment, fixing your eyes on the road ahead as you speak. "Yeah well, I can't afford it. It's bloody expensive being a student you know. My student loan for this semester's practically gone and I don't have a part-time job. I can't just materialise that sort of money from thin air."

"But there's help if you need it... if you're struggling... the student hardship fund..."

"I'm not a bloody charity case!" You cut him off sharply, tensing in your seat. You know you're over-reacting but you hate asking for help, especially where money's concerned. You like to stand on your own two feet.

"I didn't say you were," he says with a sigh, his voice soft. "It's just something to think about, that's all. I know Van'll be really disappointed that you're not going too."

There's quiet for a moment as he comes to a stop at a junction, his attention momentarily diverted. You look out the window and notice you're nearing the outskirts of town. After the eventful afternoon you've had you're no longer eager to meet up with your friends and you wonder if you can stall getting dropped off, the opportunity to satisfy some of your burning curiosity presenting itself to you so temptingly. You shift in your seat, trying your hardest to project a casual tone in your voice even though the prospect of prying sets off flurries of excited nerves in your gut.

"Well... I'm sure Van won't miss me too much. It sounds like the English department might be considering a trip to Italy too. He'll be perfectly occupied with his fiancée there if that happens, won't he?"

"Where did you hear that?" Johnny wants to know, sharply inquisitive, more so than you were expecting.

"Oh," you reply nonchalantly, slouching down further in your seat, eyes trained anywhere but him. "I umm... met up with Kathleen earlier before I ran into you..."

You're just about to launch into an account of your earlier encounter with Kathleen but Johnny doesn't give you chance. Just like that his relaxed demeanour's gone, chased away by annoyance and exasperation. You were expecting a reaction, but not for the switch to flick quite so quickly.

"What the fuck? What are you playing at? I thought Van told you to steer well clear of Kath? How can you talk about being discreet when you're hellbent on playing these dangerous games?"

"But it wasn't my fault!" You object quickly, worrying that maybe this isn't such a good idea, that maybe your admission will obliterate any kind of trust that you've only just managed to claw back. "I was just minding my own business walking into town and Kathleen was sitting outside one of the cafes down by the river. She was the one who called me over! I couldn't very well just ignore her, could I?"

"What did she say? Did she mention Van? Was she alone?" He fires the questions at you rapidly and you're stunned, taken aback that he's so invested. You know him and Van are close but even so something seems off. It exacerbates your intrigue even further.

"She just asked me if he'd been acting strange in this morning's lecture. I said he was fine... which he is..." you add pointedly. "If she suspects anything's going on then it's certainly not got anything to do with me."

You watch Johnny as you speak, looking for any kind of reaction that might give something away, wondering how deeply you've got yourself embroiled in your professor's private life, imagining with mounting unease that you might be just one in a long line of casual flings that mean nothing to him. You hadn't been expecting the notion to cut you quite so savagely, the thought of digging deeper into Van's dirt starting to lose its appeal as you begin to fear what you might uncover.

"And Professor Turner was there too," you add swiftly as a distraction with a pointed huff. "Now he's a real piece of work!"

"What? Alex was there with Kath?"

Now you know you've really hit some kind of raw nerve. Johnny sits bolt upright from his slouched position before hunching over the wheel. Bizarrely he looks just as agitated as when he was lecturing you earlier. Your mind whirs, scrolling through scenarios.

"Oh my god... is there something actually going on between those two?" You blurt before you can stop yourself, your mouth engaging before your brain can hold back. Your thoughts flick to Alex's flirtatious behaviour, Kathleen's sudden uncharacteristic shift in mannerisms as if eager to impress.

"No!" Johnny almost shouts, loud and stern enough to be a warning to you but it's too late, the embers of intrigue have already been lit and the more you allow your brain to concoct a tangled web of lies and infidelity the more you fan the flames. The concept's so decadently scandalous that you can't quite believe your luck that you've stumbled across it.

"They're at it aren't they?" You gasp, not being able to hold back the wicked delight that you feel at the prospect of the juiciest gossip, the fact that you're potentially a part of it just making it all the more exhilarating. "I knew it! I knew something was dodgy. Kathleen's not as sweet and innocent as she looks is she? And that Professor Turner... well I wouldn't trust him one little bit! Honestly, you should have seen the looks he was giving me from across the table!"

"Nothing's going on... Christ Y/N! This is how rumours get started!" Johnny's voice is rough and brittle and he stomps on the brake a little too hard at a red light, his jaw clenched. "Don't you dare start spreading this shit around or Van'll go ballistic. I swear if he gets wind of you saying anything like that he'll be coming down on you like a tonne of bricks!" He huffs frustratedly under his breath. "And for god's sake stay away from Kathleen from now on... and Professor Turner too... in fact stay very far away from him."

Johnny should know you better by now, he really should. If he did then he wouldn't be laying down the law with orders, warning you about how much trouble you could get yourself into. It's like a red rag to a bull, a siren song that you can't resist, an unwitting 'how to guide' on misbehaving in the sneakiest way to get the desired results.

You bite back the conniving smirk that's trying to surface, your head clamouring with sinful thoughts whilst you concentrate on appearing contrite.

"I'm sorry... jeez keep your hair on, I was only kidding! Of course I don't think anything's really going on..." You pause, following it up with "and I just can't see what the big deal is with them being out together anyway. They do work with each other after all, I mean isn't he like her boss or something?"

Johnny grunts an acknowledgment under his breath, still looking far from happy even though you can see he's trying to play it down. "Yeah that's it exactly... it's not a big deal. I just don't want you getting out of your depth, prying into business that's got nothing to do with you. I'm just concerned about you, that's all... that's the only reason I'm getting mad."

You smile and lift up a hand in a goofy salute in an effort to lighten the atmosphere. "I'll stay out of it, don't worry, I promise. Girl Scouts honour."

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"I just want you to stay out of trouble... any kind of trouble... think you can manage that?"

You shoot him a winning smile as he looks over, the only reassurance he's going to get after your empty promises. Your brain's already meandering down dark paths, concocting elaborate plans before you've even exited the car.

You agree to get dropped off a five minute walk from campus in a quiet residential street for discretion and Johnny furtively looks all around before he's leaning across to give you a small lingering peck on the lips, a sweet gesture that warms you through. "Mmm... you might be a pain in the arse love, but you're unreal, you really are."

You just smirk as he pulls back, looking up at him coyly though your lashes. "You thought I was real enough when I was bouncing on your cock though, hey Sir?"

You flick your tongue salaciously over your teeth, watching his eyes spark with heat at the memory, one which you know he'll be re-visiting over and over again until your next encounter. You're that temptation he can't turn away from, that one bad habit he won't be able to kick, you'll make damn sure of that.

[barbwritesstuff]

Hey again! I just wanted to write cause I FINALLY had the time to read the actual released version of Blood Moon. It was so nice to experience it fully polished!

Also, reading it all in one go allowed me to really think about it more deeply, and I realized one of my favorite parts of the story is one I've never really seen people talk about... I think it's fascinating how after the Alek's death, for a very "naturally Alpha-oriented MC", the pack seems to instinctively follow them from the get go. Like, it feels incredibly natural, like it's the right order of things. Simply because the MC knows what to do - or at least seems to know - and is willing to actually take things in their hands. I feel like in moments of vulnerability like this one, having someone who can be an "anchor" really helps. And in that moment, if the MC has the heart of an Alpha, they can be that anchor. Strangely enough, that segment is one of my favorite parts of the story despite being so "unassuming" in a way (well, it's an important and painful part of the story, but it's no big epic moment, no romantic moment, no stuff like that), simply because of how strongly we can feel what the pack must feel and the natural power shifts in it.

Another part I REALLY adored and that wasn't in the last WIP I had read was the epilogue. It was such a short segment, but I really think you outdid yourself with it! It felt incredible to read!

That aside, I also had three questions, if you don't mind me making this post even longer than it already is:

When meeting Farro for the first time at the gathering, if the MC shakes his hand and smiles, Farro is momentarily "taken aback" by MC's smile. Is it because he saw the similarities with Jay when he smiles? Or did he simply think MC looks good when they smile?

When all the pack moves in the den after Alek's death, it's said Marco leaves his room so Nikolas and Grace can take it. If Marco is in a relationship with the MC and the MC agrees to that, does he move into the MC's room at least temporarily, or does he pick a different place? It's never specified, and it's hard to get a true answer just from reading the story.

Last one is a bit different... I like to think once shit really dies down after the battle and everything that follows it, my MC will ask if Marco wants to marry him. But there is one thing I've been thinking about - I think one thing my MC would really care about is to make himself a sort of "semi-matching" tattoo before they get married - blue roses. Basically, something to match, but not to be identical. He'd really want to have this tattoo already on him when the marriage actually happens. Assuming that, obviously, this isn't done "to please" or anything like that, and something my MC REALLY wants for himself, what would Marco's thoughts be about that? (and yes, one of my reasons of asking that is me needing to know for when I feel inspired to draw my MC)

Sorry for this way too long ask! Thanks and have a great day!

I'm so glad you got a chance to play the polished version of Blood Moon and that you enjoyed it. Those are some of my favourite moments too. 💙

To answer your questions:

Farro is used to people being nervous around him because of his size (and because he's a shy mountain man that doesn't spend a lot of time around people he doesn't know). If you seem friendly and relaxed, he's surprised by how easy and pleasant this conversation is going.

Marco is only giving up his room for the duration of the siege. Long term, Marco would like to get a job and an apartment near the den. If he's in a relationship with MC, then they can join him there.

Marco would be thrilled and honoured if MC was interested in getting rose tattoos like his. I think he'd think that was really cool.