#i think the twist was pretty cool? but i? i guess that was to mirror the season 4-5 arc in the show

[harrysmmm]

hello, love! i originally put this in the comments but it might get lost in your notifications. anyway, if you are up for it, do you mind writing a second part for magically annoying? i need jealous draco 😩 anyway, if you do it may you please tag me in the comments or something so i am brought back and dont forget? thanks so much! dont feel pressured to write it 🩷🫶🏻

have a wonderful and lovely day/night <3

thank you love for the inbox! hope you like it !!! ♡

Draco Malfoy x Y/N (f!reader)

Setting: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Summary: where Harry and Draco have a crush on you at the same time and they both ask you to the yule ball. (part two)

part 1

W/C: 2.4K

Taglist: @mrsmikaelsxn @Iail1010

masterlist here

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Mixed feelings. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror. A long velvet dress was framing your body, embellishing every edge, every curve of it. Your shoulders were naked, leaving your collarbones with no room for imagination. You paired up the dress with cream high-heels that matched your hand purse.

“I swear this pin on my hair won’t stay put,” Hermione said from the other side of the room.

“I can’t believe you don’t have a spell for that, Hermione,” you teased a little bit.

“There’s no reason for a spell for hair, Y/N.” She approached your mirror and stood next to you. “Besides, I’ve tried to cast one and it’s not possible.”

“Are you guys talking about hair spells?” Luna Lovegood was standing at the doorframe of your dormitory. How the hell did she get in the Gryffindor common room? “I know a bunch of them. I made these two-side ponytails with one of them.”

“Well… you shouldn’t be here Luna!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Cool it off,” you advised here.

“I mean, this is the Gryffindor area. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Neville let me in. I’m going with him to the ball. Apparently, Ginny ditched on him. How curious, I thought she was after him, but guess she’s not.”

“Well, you look stunning, Luna,” you added. She did look pretty, in her own way. She was wearing an aluminium dress, or that’s what it looked like, coupled with hanging balls of cotton on the edges. Her face was decorated with shiny, glittery makeup.

“Thank you, Y/N. Your dress is really pretty, it highlights your body. I’m sure Harry is going to think the same.”

The name had been dropped. Harry. Harry Potter. Harry Bloody Potter. That was your date to the ball. After the incident with Malfoy, Harry was by far your safest bet. And besides, he did ask you first.

You had spent those past few weeks thinking how, when the moment would come, you wouldn’t think about the incident with Malfoy.

How you would not think about his eyes staring into yours with your wand up.

You would not think about him getting closer with a smirk on his face.

Not think about his eyes going up and down your body.

Think about his hand making contact with your waist.

His lips painfully slow when brushing yours.

His lips.

Draco Malfoy.

It was going to go downhill.

It was tradition that boys would get to the entrance first. They would all be waiting for their ladies to go down the stairs, greet them with a soft kiss on their hand, and show them to the Great Hall.

Hermione and Luna had already left - you were still passing your fingers through your hair in an attempt of putting it together. Although your hair was already in its place, you needed an outlet to where to put your twisting feelings on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again.

Why bloody Malfoy? Why him?

While you were trying to find an answer to the rhetorical question a silly smile got in your face.

No. No. No.

You were giggling like a twelve-year-old with a crush on another twelve-year-old. Pathetic.

Besides, the thought of him didn’t deserve any of your time. The butthead hadn’t even looked at you since the incident. In fact, his little pranks had become even more annoying, even more personal, if that could ever happen. He had faked a letter from Professor Snape that had put on your desk in Charms class. The letter described as followed:

“Miss Y/L/N, Your scores on the test about deadly potion mixing have been the lowest I have ever seen in all my teaching years in this school. I’m afraid you will be suspended in advance and hope to pass next semester. I won’t tolerate a Gryffindor mocking my course, nor my teaching methods. I must take 30 points off Gryffindor. Yours sincerely, Professor Snape P.S. the same applies to Potter. Also the points.”

You teared up that day. And if it wasn’t enough, when you went to see Snape and found out it was fake, he took ten points off Gryffindor for being so naive and believing it was true. He also took ten points off on Harry, for being, once again, mingled in the sauce.

And putting everything aside, you couldn’t lie to yourself and pretend you weren’t going to look for his face that night. You couldn’t pretend you were not going to wonder about what would’ve happened if you had said yes to him. How you would slow dance together; how everyone would think you were the most unthinkable couple, but that deep down you were killing the game.

You brushed all of those feeling off, looking at yourself in the mirror forcing it to be the last time. You turned around and headed to the stairs before the ball began.

Harry was patiently waiting for you. He had been looking on and off to the stairs since girls started to come down. He was really nervous about the whole situation and for the first time, it didn’t have to do with him being the centre of attention as one of the champions of the Triwizard Tournament. He was nervous because of you. He had been wanting to ask you out since the beginning of the course, but never had the guts to do it, knowing that a friendship was at stake. The moment you said yes to him after dinner, his belly exploded in thousands of butterflies, and he promised himself that he would try to act as a gentleman for you that night. Because you were the most lovable person he had ever met.

Suddenly, you made the entrance on the stairs. His gaze immediately went to you - how your hair fell perfectly from your shoulders; how the tale of the dress would follow your steps when you went down; how your eyes would magically swing between the stair steps and him. He was taken by the view. Once you had come down, he greeted you with his arm.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

He wanted to say how good you looked. He wanted to, but something blocked his throat, and he was almost unable to speak.

“Hum… you… hum… shall we?”

You got the hint. “We shall.”

You two got in the line of the champions, who as tradition, entered the ball first and opened it with the first dance. While McGonagall was counting you to make sure everyone was at their place, you scanned the room looking for a certain bleached one.

There you found him.

He had his arms crossed with Pansy Parkinson’s. He was gracefully talking to a Durmstrang student as if it was a sort of haute-classe yearly networking party. You hated how he seemed so unbothered, so natural. He looked naturally happy. You hated it because all you could do was fake.

You decided you were going to give him a little bit of a show.

The trumpets started echoing and everyone stood in both sides of the Great Hall, except the champions and their partners who were waiting for the sign to walk up to the dance floor. When McGonagall gave the green flag, the line started to move, every couple having their arms crossed with one another. You decided to hold Harry’s hand. He looked surprised at you but didn’t move his. You were walking down the aisle, most people noticing the subtlety of your tangled hands. You peripherally looked at Draco, and noticed he had a blank expression on his face when you passed next to him. Was that jealousy? Indifference? Oblivion? You couldn’t keep thinking of interpretations when Harry’s hand got to your waist, beginning just like that the first dance of the ball. You gracefully moved with him, having internalized the compass weeks prior. You swung from one side to the other for exactly three minutes and forty-six seconds when you stopped the dance, and everyone clapped. Harry’s eyes were mesmerized on yours, seeming oblivious to what was happening on the outside.

“Y/N, I-” He started a sentence, but he rapidly stopped talking, getting closer and closer as seconds went by.

Was he going to…? You couldn’t succumb to that happening.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” And just like that, you left the dance floor in everyone’s eyes.

You got in one of the cubicles of the restroom. You locked the door behind you and melted on the floor. You were so conflicted… why all of a sudden did Harry have so much interest in you? And why did Malfoy tell you all those things a month ago and didn’t even lock his eyes with yours since?

“Y/N?”

It was Hermione’s voice.

“Yeah, here,” you replied, getting up.

“You okay?,” she said.

“Yeah, just a sec.”

You flushed to pretend and got out of the toilet.

“You don’t look okay.” Hermione knew you all too well.

“Just a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Did the people overwhelm you or did Harry do it?”

You waited a few seconds to reply. “Both.”

“About the people, the hardest part already ended, we already opened the ball. About Harry, you should hint him that you don’t feel the same.”

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

“It’s inevitable. Sooner rather than later.”

She didn’t know about Draco. You hadn’t told a soul about what happened. Mostly because you didn’t understand it yourself, but also because keeping it a secret made it more exciting – it was like your chocolate sweet before bedtime. You wanted it all to yourself.

You went over to the sink and started washing your hands.

“And you with Viktor? Have you two talked a bit?”

“Well, he doesn’t really talk. In fact, he doesn’t talk at all.”

“Stunning,” you replied.

She grinned back at you.

You both exited the bathroom and went to both your respective dates. You saw Harry sitting down on one of the tables, talking to Ron. You joined them.

“Hey, sorry for earlier.”

“Hey. No, it’s fine. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries.”

“You wanna dance, maybe?”

“Sure.”

He gave you his hand and showed you to the dancefloor. A lively rock song was being played and both of you started moving to the rhythm, having fun more than dancing. That was until you looked at your left and saw that someone couldn’t stop staring at you. You and Draco locked eyes with each other while he was also dancing with Pansy.

He put his hand on her waist.

You placed your arms around Harry’s neck.

He pulled Pansy closer to him.

You slowly got closer to Harry’s face.

That was until Harry cut the scene.

“You wanna go for drinks?”

You were surprised. Wasn’t he into you? Why was he not adhering to what was happening, even if you weren’t technically doing it to him?

“Okay,” you replied.

You both exited the dancefloor and headed to the drinks counter. He served you some punch.

“Y/N, I-”

“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall blurted, “you must come with the other champions for the ceremonial speech.”

“The ceremonial wha-”

“Come, come. There’s no time,”

He looked at you one last time before being swollen by McGonagall’s anxiety. You looked at him leaving until someone disturbed your moment.

“No more boyfriend, Y/L/N?” Draco’s voice made an alarm in your heart go on.

You looked right at him. “I could ask the same thing.”

He smirked at you.

“What are you drinking?”

“Why do you care?”

“Woo-hoo, you were swollen by a dementor or what?”

“So funny, aren’t you?”

“So pissy. It’s because Potter left you?”

“You know, you sound like a kindergarten.” You stopped looking at him and drank more of the punch.

“Now that your boyfriend left, what you doing tonight?”

“What do you mean? We’re in a ball.”

“I stick to my question.”

You sighed. “I will stay at the ball until I’m tired and I wanna go to sleep.”

“Pity, I thought you might wanna get your wand back. Taking into consideration that tomorrow we still have class.”

You looked back at him, astonished. “My wand? Did you take my wand?”

“Who said I did? I’m just making a point here,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders and smiling.

“Draco, where is my wand?”

“Funny you ask because, it will only appear if you really need it.”

You got the hint. You looked one last time at Draco and rolled your eyes. You exited the ball with fast steps and headed to the seventh floor, left corridor, where the Room Of Requirements could be found. You closed your eyes and focused on your wand. Suddenly, where there was before a wall a door appeared. You got in.

The room was full of antic objects. You started by looking at the floor to see if Draco had thrown it, but you couldn’t see it. It was going to be impossible will all the number of objects.

“Looking for this?”

Draco’s voice echoed in the room. You turned around and there he was with your wand in hand.

“Draco, I’m done with your silly games. Give it back.”

“Come take it.” He kept it in one of his pants’ pockets.

“Draco,” you sighed, still you stood in front of him

You put one of your hands in his pocket to grab the wand and he immediately got closer to you. So close your lips were almost brushing each other.

“Hi,” he said.

You didn’t reply and with the willpower you have left, you tried to grab the wand. He got even closer, his crotch making contact with you. He had a boner.

You paralyzed and eventually, looked up at his eyes.

He was staring at you with no smile this time. He looked desperate and lustful. He pulled your head towards his, and his lips made their way to yours.

He started kissing you softly, only both of your lips playing with one another. Then he started introducing his tongue and biting your lower lip so hard it made you moan. You grabbed his neck and pulled him closer to you. He moved one of his hands to your ass and squeezed it a few times. He let out a moan.

“The Room of Requirements,” you started saying between kisses, “only opens when you need it.” He tried to shut you up with his mouth but you continued. “How did you get in?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked you, ending the kiss and staring into your eyes. “I needed you.”

Enamoured. That’s how you would describe the way you felt at that moment.

[hailtheaeon]

SPELL ON YOU

“I put a spell on you, cause you’re mine.”

WARNINGS: soft jake! x femme reader (no mention of gender.) rough kissing, f receiving oral, m receiving oral, mirror sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex (WRAP IT GUYS!!), face fucking, edging, orgasm denial, slight cockwarming (if you squint??), choking, Jake’s old blue jeans

The whole rest of the night started with his hands on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, ragged breaths and shallow breathing being the only noise in the room other than the occasional creak of the mattress. You didn’t really remember how this happened, drunk on a few too many glasses of wine that was way too expensive for you to even guess the price of.

“What’re ya lookin’ at?” he tilts his head, chestnut hair cascading down his perfectly sculpted face, he slurs slightly, tipsy as ever. “Look at me, c’mon now.” he grabs your chin, turning it to him, his lips pursed.

Your eyes hit his in the dark of the bedroom, the party downstairs still roaring on. His chocolatey brown eyes looking almost black in the mooonlight, you shift your eyes down, and his grip goes from your jaw to your throat. He squeezes in warning, puffing out a breath of air. “I said look at me.” he practically whines.

You chuckle at his neediness, never meeting a man in one night who whines to get his way. It’s cute, soft, you think to yourself. “Please?” he begs sweetly, his hands traveling down your thighs, he huffs again, frustrated at the feeling of fabric. “Please, please?”

“Fuck! Fine, you’re whiny,” you spit out, immediately feeling bad as he pulls away slightly, his gaze lowering. “No, no, no.” you cup his cheeks, pulling him in to kiss him sweetly. He parts his mouth, opening it kindly as you lick into it. He groans slightly, his hand going down to palm himself through his shitty blue jeans you’ve seen at every party, doesn’t he even have another pair? You shake that thought out of your head as he lifts your shirt up, his hands squeezing at your sides.

He breaks the kiss, picking you up lazily and dropping you onto the bed, you chuckle slightly, wincing at his roughness. He winks stupidly, making you roll your eyes as he slots his knee in between your thighs, returning his lips to yours. Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling his chest to yours, the chains around his neck cooling your burning skin.

He lifts himself up, sitting on his knees. “You want them off?” he gestures to his necklaces and you shake your head, chuckling.

“No, your shirt- can you take that off?” you ask him quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed asking as his eyes burn into yours.

“Only if I can take off your pants,” he winks, smirking just enough for you to notice.

You nod your head, lifting your hips, he takes his time, humming an old blues tune while he unclasps every button, zipping down the zipper. His thumbs dip under your underwear, rubbing circles into your smooth skin. “Soft.” he murmurs, lowering his head to kiss just below your stomach.

You reach your hand down to his hair, twisting at his strands. You blush at his comment, turning your head away. But, just as it started, his touch stops. “Pretty baby, I said look at me.” he says more sternly than the last time. “I don’t wanna beg, jus’ need ya to look at me.”

You oblige, looking at him as he pulls your jeans down, throwing them to the side of the room, licking his lips as he looks at you. “God, ‘m so lucky.” he hums. “Can I give ‘er a kiss? Just a tiny one?” he asks sweetly, batting his eyelashes. His hand reaches to palm you, clothed just enough for him to feel frustrated.

When you stay still, he rubs his hand up your sides. “‘S okay, pretty thing. Just wanna kiss her hello.” he says, a sly grin forming on his face, your eyes go to the ever growing dimple on his face, sighing.

“Need a yes.” he tuts as you buck your hips up.

“Yes- please do.” you whine, wiggling your hips, inching them closer to his pretty lips.

He chuckles at this, pulling the rubber band at his middle finger, wrapping his hair into a low bun as he looks again for confirmation. His lips part ever so slightly as he presses a kiss to your clothed clit, humming softly. “So pretty.”

He pauses, tilting his head up. “More?” he tilts his head like a lost puppy, if he had a tail it’d be wagging. You nod, grabbing his low bun and pushing him closer. He takes the hint and licks you through your underwear, your body jolting up as the tip of his tongue catches your clit. He chuckles again, hands places firmly on the insides of your thighs, thumbs burning circles into your skin.

“Like honey.” he comments. “Can I take them off? Please?” he looks back up at you, bottom lip tucked behind his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, please.” you sigh breathily, nodding your head frantically.

He hooks his index finger under the hem, pulling them down while kissing down your thigh, once they’re fully off he folds them and shoves them into his back pocket, smirking. You know you’ll never get those back. His thumb reaches up back to the inside of your thigh, firmly gripping to keep you parted. “Fingers too? Just my tongue?”

“Anything- fuck- anything please.” you whine, hands balling at the sheets below you, knuckles white.

“Mhmm.” he hums, darting his tongue back and taking a slow, drawn out lick from the bottom of your pussy to the top of your clit, he breaks away, licking his lips to savor the taste. “Fuck, have you ever tasted yourself?” he asks curiously.

You shake your head at his question, in response he runs the tips of his ring and middle finger through your folds, standing up and brining them to your mouth. “C’mon, taste it.” he taunts, you shakily wrap your lips around his fingers and suck, humming at the salty-sweet taste.

“So good for me.” he hums, his thumb going down to rub at your cheek. He pecks your temple, descending down again.

His thumb finds your clit and rubs tight circles, eliciting a strangled moan from your lips, you snap your mouth shut and he stops. “Wanna hear you.” he says, licking into your entrance.

You buck your hips, rocking them, but he puts a stop to that, grip firm on your thighs. You whine slightly, his tongue fucking into you as his thumb rubs at your clit. He groans softly, adding to the sensation as his tongue vibrates inside you, your dominant hand moves from the sheets to his hair, pulling at his bun, accidentally undoing his rubber band. He doesn’t mind, too focused on you to even focus on his hair that’s starting to cling to his neck. You push him closer, he chuckles into you, making you yelp and buck your hips up.

He releases you, thumb still circling your clit as he licks his lips as clean as he can, leaning down to kiss you, his tongue licking into your mouth and playing with your tongue. “Sound so pretty.” he mutters between kisses, making you blush.

“Baby,” you sigh, pulling his face closer, arms around his neck. “What about you?” you ask him, his lips still kissing you, muffling your words.

“I like it,” he chuckles, nipping and sucking at your throat, his tongue licking and soothing the wounds. “Fuck- you’re perfect, just perfect.” he purrs, his non dominant hand running up your stomach. You fight the urge to sit up and shove his face back down, the burning between your legs not soothed but teased by the slow circles around your clit.

“Please- please- just fucking-“ you rock your hips, frustrated at his slow, yet painful circles around your growing need.

“Shhh, baby, calm down- I’ll take care of ya, promise.” he hums, nipping at your collarbone with a cheeky grin, his thumb moving even slower.

“No, no, no, no!” you kick your feet, spreading your legs farther, hands balling into fists before banging against the mattress.

He grows frustrated at your small tantrum, pulling his hand away to wrap around your throat, squeezing tighter. “Fuckin’ brat.” he spits. “You’re gonna take what I’m givin’ you, and like it.” he demands, eyes boring into yours. You have the nerve to roll your eyes at him, making him groan and squeeze your throat again.

“Nuh-uh, honey.” he tuts. “You’re not five, I’m not gonna give you what you want if you throw a fuckin’ fit, baby. Gonna shut you up with my cock if you’re unhappy with what I’m givin’ you.”

Your eyes widen, not being used to being refused in this way, you open your mouth to speak but he shoves two of his fingers into your mouth, resting them on top of your tongue. “Mh, no.” he hums, smiling devilishly.

“Please?” you beg, almost choking on his fingers as he shoves them further down your throat, gagging.

“Fine.” he sighs, pulling his fingers out of you, you sigh with relief. “I’ll give ya what you want, mkay?” you nod your head immediately, feeling slightly embarrassed at your desperate nature. But, you’ll do something, anything, for him to place his hands back where they were.

He pecks your lips, settling himself on his knees, he teases a finger inside, curling it. You gasp, arching your body off the bed, he lays his arm around your stomach in response, pinning you down. You grab at something, anything, your hands yet again going to his hair. He groans as you tug at his strands, sticking his tongue out to lick you.

He pulls away yet again, you wince. “C’mon, fuck yourself on my tongue, you gotta work for it.” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling, he fucking enjoys this.

You groan. “Please, just-“ you plead, pushing himself down, but, he doesn’t move, firm on his stance.

“You want it, you gotta pursue it.” he tuts, pulling his hand off your stomach, sticking his tongue back out. “Come on, ‘m waiting like a fuckin’ dog.”

You blush, cheeks rosy from arousal and embarrassment. You scoot yourself closer down the bed, your ass nearly hanging off, you pull his head down onto your pussy, freezing for a moment. His eyes dart to yours, checking to see if you’re okay. You nod, placing your other hand into his shoulder. You rut your lips on his tongue, he doesn’t even move it, making you more frustrated.

“Baby, please.” you pull his head back then push it forward, encouraging him to move his tongue. But, he doesn’t, and you rut your hips faster, feeling like a fucking dog. “Give me something, Anything.”

He relents, wiggling his face, his nose rubbing onto your clit. You moan in satisfaction, feeling the pit in your stomach bubble. “Yes, thankyou thankyou.” you rush out, your tone whiny.

He laughs, he fucking laughs at you. You whine, feeling yourself closer and closer. You tug at his hair, throwing your head back, your eyes rolling into your head. Right when you’re about to feel the band snap, your orgasm teetering on the ledge, he pulls himself away.

“No!” you cry, tears brimming your eyes. “No! Please! I wasn’t complaining- I was- I was-“

“Save the tears,” he sighs, rubbing the teardrops off of your cheekbones. “Whining like a dog, I’ll give you what you want.” he tuts. “But you’re gonna have to get it.”

You nod eagerly, raising yourself to your knees, you crawl to him, hands immediately fiddling with the button on his jeans. “Easy now.” he pets your head, craning his neck down to kiss the top of your head.

“Pretty baby, so so so pretty.” he coos, pulling the rest of his jeans down, stepping out of them and kicking the other side off.

Your eyes immediately beat down to his boxers, American Eagle navy blue boxers, his pretty pink tip resting just above the hem of his boxers. You lick your lips, eyes going to his. “Can I?” you ask him sweetly.

“Course, pretty, bet your lips would look so pretty wrapped around my cock? You want it?” he teases, his thumbs pulling the waistband down just enough for you to see an inch more.

You tug the rest of him down, his underwear resting on his thighs. Hands clammy with sweat, you wrap one around him, gasping at the girth. He chuckles, his hand going to the top of your head, rubbing circles with his thumb to encourage you.

“C’mon baby, I’m hurting here,” he groans, tugging at your hair.

You oblige, pressing a small peck onto his leaking tip, stroking him with your dominant hand, the other holding onto his thigh, anchoring yourself. You sink down onto him, remembering to breathe through your nose. He laid a soothing hand on your white knuckled left hand, rubbing it to let off pressure. You slowly relent, knowing that they’ll be crescent shaped indents left on his tan flesh. Deep and slow, you bobbed your head down onto his heavy flesh, in response he let out a deep, guttural sigh. “Just like that, ffuuuuuuck.” he pushes your head farther down, you gag, immediately he softens his grip.

“Mhm, mhm, yes, just like that.” he groans, throwing his head back, you can feel him twitch inside you, he gulps, pulling at the roots of your hair.

He pulls you off of him, your mouth making on obscene pop. “No more, I don’t wanna cum in your mouth, too pretty for that.” he slurs, lust drunk on you. He taps your cheek. “Up, up.”

He craws on top of you, spreading your legs while he works the rest of his half buttoned down black button up. Coins rattling while his fingers shakily work down his shirt. He pulls it off, letting it fall from his arms down to the floor. Then, he pulls your shirt off, pushing you down to kiss along your stomach, pecking up your stomach, he murmured sweet nothings.

“God you’re gorgeous.”

“You smell pretty.”

“So soft.”

“Sweet thing.”

He reaches your collarbones, sucking at the tender skin he already bit, darting his tongue out to lick the wounds and soothe them. “You ready?” he asks sweetly.

“Yes, fuck, please.” you nod eagerly, bucking your hips up, sighing when you don’t get any friction.

Placing his hands on your hips, he flips you over onto your stomach, tapping your thighs. “Look at that.” he grabs your chin, callused hand pointing you towards the vanity mirror on the other side of the room. Your eyes dart down, blushing stupidly. He shakes his head, “Look.” he demands, softly at first “Look!” he says again, sharper this time.

You raise your eyes up, his hands at your sides, rubbing up and down your body, feeling your stomach, squeezing your thighs. “Want you to watch, see what I’m doing to you.” he sighs, bending his body in half to rest his chest on your back, nipping the shell of your ear. You shudder, nodding your head in agreement.

He cranes your face closer to his, pecking the corner of your lips before meeting you on the middle, giving you a sweet yet sloppy kiss. “Gonna fuck you, how do you want it?” he slurs, eyes half lidded, a dopey smile playing at his lips.

“Just- give it to me.” you demand, whining.

He chuckles, kissing your shoulder. “M’kay, I’ll take it slow.” he coos. “Gonna be rough, ‘s that okay?”

“Mhm.” you hum, wiggling your hips. His hands knead the flesh of your hips, letting go of one hand, he places it between his legs, pushing himself into you.

He watches you shudder, holding himself as still as possible. He caresses one hand around your stomach, holding you in place, kissing all over your shoulder. Thumb rubbing under your bellybutton, he whispers, “Can I move?”

Nodding, you chuckle somewhat. “Yeah, thanks.” you blush, a small smile playing on your lips at his care.

He pulls your back to his chest, chains of his necklaces dangling and clinking with each other. He slowly pulls out almost all the way, making you wince, but he slowly slides himself back in. “You feel incredible.” he sighs, pecking at your temple, hand wrapped around your throat. “Jus’ look at you, fuckin’ goddess.” His thumb swipes just above your jawline, craning your face to the mirror. Your hair a mess, eyeliner smudged down your face, panting like a dog.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, taking him in, his lips parted, eyes half lidded, tan skin damp and shiny with sweat. He picks up his pace, hand wrapped tighter around your throat, left hand still soothing circles into your stomach. “C’mon, baby, tell me you’re pretty.” he whispers into your ear, lips grazing the shell.

When you don’t respond, he pounds into you more forcefully. “I said, tell me you’re pretty.” he groans, letting his head fall back onto your shoulder.

“I’m pretty.” you pant out, one hand going to the back of his thigh and the other over his hand on your stomach, trying to keep balance.

“Fuck, you’re so good, so sweet.” he hums, kissing along your shoulder, sucking and biting. “Play with you clit, ‘m so close, so sorry.” he whines, brows furrowed, sweat beading and falling from his forehead.

You chuckle at his apology, tilting your head to the side to catch his lips. He hums in delight, kissing you deeply, tongue melding with yours. Your hand reaches down and rubs feverish circles into your clit, feeling yourself coming closer and closer to the edge, and you know the same is true for him with the way he’s twitching inside you, rhythm faltering.

you grab at the hair on the back of his head, pulling it, he groans gutturally, biting his lip to soothe the pain. “Fuck- fuckingshit.” he tries his best to continue his rhythm, wanting to get you there first.

You come undone, but he holds you still, guiding you through it, hands still firmly around you, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “Shit.” you sigh out, eyes rolling back in pure ecstacy.

You wince when he pulls out, his hand immediately going to finish himself off, spilling onto you back in ropes. Catching his breath, he kisses your shoulder, lifting himself off of you. “Gonna get a towel.” he explains, rushing over to the connected bathroom, the water running.

He returns with a black washcloth, wiping himself off you, handing you another clean cloth to wipe the sweat off your body as he uses the same wash cloth to clean off his dick, slowly softening.

“Thank you,” you flip over to look at him, wiping yourself off, shuddering at the sudden coldness of the room.

He pulls his pants and boxers back up, fastening the button. “You see my shirt?” he chuckles, looking around the room until you find it half tucked under the bed, throwing it his direction. “Thanks.” he smiles softly, pulling the sleeves over his arms.

He helps put your pants back on, then your shirt, kissing your forehead. “I’ll be back, you rest here.” he says softly.

“Wait.” you grip his wrist. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

“It’s Jake.” Jake winks, walking out the bedroom door.

Tags: @edgingthedarkness @bbygiirrlllxo @lyndz2names @ivorysworld22 @tripthelightfatality @blueskysthickthighs @beingextraisfun @wetkleenex-gvf @kiszka-enthusiast @writingcold @scoreofinfantryvines

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

If you're currently taking requests, can you please do yandere dorm leaders + Jamil with a demigod reader like from Percy Jackson the readers godly parent can be your choice. If you're not currently taking requests feel free to ignore this

Percy Jackson Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Child of one of the big three, water bends to your will. And in the oddest moments, your father gives his two senses. Nonetheless, your power earns you a lot of respect and a lot of scorn from the average student. Of course, those interested don’t mind all that much until your powers seem to be an obstacle to your love for them: 

Malleus Draconia

“I see. Your mastery of the sea is impressive. I wonder if we spar who would fare best?”

He wants to engage with your power because it gets him an excuse to take your time 

This also helps him gauge your power against his own

He doesn’t cease his repeated sniping of people that hang around you 

Even if you actually challenge him seriously

He thinks you’re just the cutest

“Fine, my love. If you wish to challenge me let's have a wager. If you win I’ll stop my…warnings. But if I win you will forfeit all rights to speak to others. This is more than fair.”

Idia Shroud

“I feel we’re connected in some odd way…”

“Yeah….”

“Do you want to play COD?”

There’s a weird synergy that has you both respecting one another

He thinks its cool how you can heal up with magic

But his excuse for prying creepily into your privacy+ is justified by his constant experimentation to measure your powers

“W-what this camera? Ha, it’s only to track what you’d do in such a harrowing situation! I-it w-wasn’t b-because your wearing j-just a white shirt.”

Jamil Viper

“You’re a lot like Kalim, I’m sure your just as susceptible.”

“...I uh…get the feeling you’re capable of something…manipulative.”

“Wow, how insightful.”

Your dear old dad is probably the only help your getting with him

He’s often finding himself befriending you 

Despite being caught trying to hypnotize you

He makes a point to use his usual tactic to leave you alone

With plenty of time to come and hang out with him

“Scarabia’s the perfect setting, not a whole lot of water for their father to stay anything.”

Kalim Al Asim

“Yay! Twinsies!”

He’s so happy that you have an affinity for water just like him

He can’t make weapons like you do or heal yourself with it

But he thinks it's pretty cool

It's even cooler that you get really cuddly weak if you stay in Scarabia long enough

“Awww why don’t you stay! I promise I’ll bring the water as soon as we finish our carpet ride!”

Vil Schoenheit

“I doubt that. If you really were the child of Poseidon I doubt he’d let you walk around with skin as dehydrated as yours.”

“Gee thanks, Vil.”

“Yup that’s what I’m here for.”

He knows he’d never be able to overpower you

But he’s not all that hurt

Where you can pride yourself on your strength it doesn’t do anything against his finesse and intellect

Which he prefers

because what power couple doesn’t complement one another with their flaws and strengths

And while you may be willing to entertain these invasive welps bold suitors

He’s not so lenient

“Where you wish to merely scare them off, I wish to punish them. It’s only a given that we mirror one another, in the method.” 

Leona Kingscholar

“Join Savvannaclaw, you herbivore. You still have some evolving you can do.”

Strong mates are always fought for in life

And to make his mark he has to sand fight off the competition

The next part will be winning your heart or successfully taming you

Just give him time, he’ll make it happen

One way or another

“Ha let’s exercise I want to see how far you’re willing to go.”

Azul Ashengrotto

“With your kind of power…you could overthrow the entire empire within the coral sea!”

“Uh, I guess.”

“You guess? (Y/n), we could bring all of those who laughed at me to their knees. Metaphorically speaking.”

“They…bullied you?”

“...”

“Aww Azul…”

“S-shut up! Let’s just put them all in their place beneath you”

He loves you immensely 

And while he may seem that he’s always aiming to slip you into a contract for ‘sea conquering’ 

He’s after something more

He’s after you

His pearl, his angelfish, he wants to be your plus one as you right the world

“Ho ho what a predicament. Why don’t we negotiate the subject of payment, after the broken china incident with Grim, we wouldn’t want you to fall into debt.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“I hardly believe your dyslexia is attributed to such a trait.”

“Bet. Write something in Greek I can do it.”

“...I stand corrected.”

“Ha see?!”

“Nonetheless you’re in desperate need of my studying prowess. Come to Heartslabyul.”

He is enamored by you 

The powers and heritage just add another layer

But he finds you are lacking for someone so kind

Or rather that you don’t have conviction

In your studies or in your boundaries

You don’t need to worry he’ll do that for you

Collaring anyone who gives threatening looks  and any look in general

“Off with your head! I decree that you will be punished for the breaking of the Queen’s law: that no one touches the Ramshackle prefect but you’re queen!”

[thirteenthdoor]

Okay, so that's the keys and their locks sorted, but what about the doors themselves?

This is another place where the designers obviously put so much time and effort into design and creation of actual physical props, and the final product often never makes it fully into a single shot. So here with go, with the aid of some helpful screenshots!

The first door that appears to Lin Qiushi on the street is the Illusory Life door. We'll (sort of) see that one again.

The Snow Village door is an appropriately rustic wood door. The dark of the tunnel means there's never a good clear shot of it; the best light comes from the second between when Lin Qiushi starts to open it and when the bright light behind it washes it out. The twisted metal that looks like tree branches reminds me of the barbed wire around the family photo.

The Fitcher's Bird door is another door that never gets a full, good, well-lit shot. I love the contrast between this angry metal door and its cute little heart lock.

These first two door world doors are push doors -- by which I mean, you unlock them and then push them into the brightly lit void. Most of the other doors open when pulled, but these first two have to be pushed.

By contrast to how badly lit and framed the previous two doors are, we get a real good look at the Sister Drum door from several angles, including watching it emerge, semi-vaginally, from the drum and seeing its inside -- which looks just like the outside. I'd almost think they just flipped the door and used the outside as the inside, but no! You can see the bolts where they affixed the handle! So some clever craftsperson bothered to decorate both sides of this lovely metal-looking pull door in a mirror image.

There's a small interlude here for Tan Zaozao's wooden door that we don't get to see them escort her through. This is another pull door that looks the same on both sides.

Somebody must have loved the silver Sako door a whole lot, because that's the central door in the first shot of the show's opening credits. It's another pull door mirrored inside and out, complete with a handle on the outer side of the door. It's not the only one with a handle on the outside, either, which raises some interesting questions.

There is just no good shot of the metal Waverly Hills door. It's all but completely shadowed and appears onscreen for a whole five seconds (not an exaggeration). However, we know what the design is, because it's the Art-Deco-looking door all the way to the right in that initial door lineup. It's also one of the few push doors!

The wooden Woman in the Rain door is a pull door, enough so that we actually get a better look at it from the inside than from the outside. It's also the only world that has substantial shots framed through the other side of the door, which I guess makes sense, considering how small and ill-lit the actual landing is. It has a little brass lion head handle on both sides.

Also, I know it's hard to tell from the shots I have here, but this is another case where both sides of the door are mirrored, down to the part where, from inside the door, only the top left side has a little ornamental scroll on it -- and it's reversed when opened. That's quite an attention to detail.

The wooden River God door is another mirrored pull door, and another one where the design is clearest when the door is opened. I'm glad that we get a good shot of it, because it's so pretty.

The Sunny Doll door is almost disappointingly boring. Its design so closely matches the design on all the other doors in the building that I have to assume this was just the actual door that was there in the wall when they arrived to start filming, so they went with it instead of building a new one. While most of the doors match the general aesthetic of the rest of their worlds, nothing else matches like that.

There's a cool tree-themed door in Cheng Yixie's unspecified door world in episode 31. Hard to say which way it opens, as we don't actually see him go through it. I don't see any hinges, though, so I guess we push!

The spiral-painted Hako Onna door is unique for a number of reasons. For starters, it's the only door we see at the start of the world, as Lin Qiushi enters. Everywhere else, our players just sort of appear from nowhere, but here, he's got an actual starting point. And I'd say this does kind of answer my unstated questions about having handles on both sides of the door, except ... no, it doesn't! Both ways it gets entered here, the person entering has to pull to open it! Okay, I'm still confused.

Along with the Sister Drum door, it's the one of the few doors that gets a big CG appearance on the way out. The chests in the center fountain fade away, revealing it in a suitably flashy manner. It's also the only door we see from from the back side as people are going through it.

And finally, in tandem, the Illusory Life and Authentic Death doors, helpfully labeled presumably because coder bros are sometimes not good at picking up literary metaphors. Both of them are pull doors.

What's wild to me is that that is not the Illusory Life door from the first episode. It's not even just that they're different colors -- you could explain that away with lighting and color grading. They are actually different doors. They obviously were built according to the same basic design, but the sticks and leaves are placed differently enough that it's clear they don't match.

Now, given a) how the door in the gaming cafe is a pull door, but the frame makes the door on the street (which we never see open) look like a push door, and b) the pattern we have established of doors being decorated on both sides, it is 100% possible that these are the same physical object, but two different sides of it. That's an explanation from a production standpoint, though. Whatever tinfoil hattery you want to get up to with this information, you go for it.

Bonus! In the last episode, when we're pulling the whole Wizard of Oz ending of things, Wu Qi shows the version of the Spirealm he's familiar with -- which features adorable little drawings of Lin Qiushi, Ruan Nanzhu (with his hair parted on the wrong side), Toast, Chestnut, and the Snow Village door! Friends on an adventure!

[emma23]

Out of your league ? :

Steven grant x reader

————————————————————————

The day had been a whirlwind of excitement. You and Steven had been dating for a while now, but tonight was different. Tonight, you were meeting his friends, the wild party crowd he'd told you about. But your stomach twisted with nerves as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, second-guessing everything.

Steven was downstairs, fumbling around in the kitchen, probably talking to himself again as he tried to remember where he'd put his keys. He was adorably disorganized, yet utterly devoted. You adored him, but tonight... tonight you felt like you just weren’t enough.

You slipped on your dress and sighed, smoothing it down over your hips. It was a flattering dress, sure, but was it enough? Could it make you feel like you belonged with Steven's cool, stylish friends?

Just as you were about to head downstairs, Steven appeared at the door, eyes wide and immediately filled with admiration. "Wow, you look stunning, love. I mean, blimey..." His eyes scanned you up and down, making you feel a bit warmer than you'd intended.

You smiled but felt the insecurity creep back in. “Thanks, Steven. I just… I want to look good tonight. For you. For your friends.”

He tilted his head, clearly confused. “You always look good, love. And it’s not for them, it’s for us.”

The drive to the party was quiet, tension simmering beneath the surface. Steven, ever the gentleman, was rambling on about the Egyptian exhibit he'd seen earlier, oblivious to your nervous fidgeting.

“Steven,” you interrupted softly, “Do you really think I’m pretty enough? I mean, next to all of your friends, I don’t really stand out. I’m not... you know, like the girls you see in magazines.”

He blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. "What? Are you mad? You're perfect as you are!" His voice was sincere, but your doubts persisted.

"I just... I don’t want them to think you're too good for me," you admitted, twisting the fabric of your dress anxiously. "I mean, you’re smart, and handsome, and I’m just—"

Steven suddenly pulled over, parking the car on the side of the road. He turned to face you, his deep brown eyes searching yours. "Love, why are you trying so hard to be something you already are?"

You stared at him, momentarily speechless. "What do you mean?"

He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands. "You're beautiful. The way you are. Right now. Frizzy hair, sweaty, whatever—you're mine. And I want you exactly like this."

Your heart melted at his words, but you couldn’t stop the small voice in your head. "But your friends, Steven. They’re going to see me, and they’ll think—"

"Who cares what they think?" Steven interrupted, his voice firmer now. "We're going out tonight because you wanted to. I’d have skipped it if I could. These are just... wild party friends from back in the day. If you don't like them, they don't have to be a part of my life."

You blinked in shock. "You’d give up your friends for me?"

Without hesitation, Steven nodded. "Love, I’m asking you to change your whole life and move here just to take a chance on us. So whatever you need to feel secure, I’ll give it to you. I haven’t seen these clowns in months, and honestly? I’m not missing anything."

His honesty warmed your heart, but something about his willingness to sacrifice his social circle didn’t sit right with you. "Steven, that’s sweet, but that’s not what I want. That’s what your ex did to you, isn’t it?" You reached over and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his. "May I teach you a love lesson for once?"

Steven looked at you with a mix of curiosity and concern. "Sure, love, go ahead."

You smiled softly. "Don’t be with a woman who wants you to give up your friends for her. Be with someone who wants to be a part of the things you like and love. That’s what a real partner does."

He chuckled softly, squeezing your hand. "You’re right. You always are. I’m just obsessed with you, love. Sometimes I don’t think straight."

You grinned, feeling your nerves start to fade. "I’m obsessed with you too. But that doesn’t mean you have to give up your friends for me."

Steven leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. "Well, I still think you’re out of their league."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You’re ridiculous."

"Maybe," he smiled, then glanced at his watch. "We still have time before the party. You know, we could… head back home." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. "Steven, we are not skipping the party just to... do that."

"Just thought I’d ask," he said innocently, before giving you a sly grin. "But if you’re into it…"

"Drive," you commanded, trying to keep a straight face, but the warmth in his gaze was enough to make you lean over and kiss him again.

Steven pulled back onto the road, but not before muttering, "Can’t believe I’m driving away from that... What a waste."

You giggled, leaning back into your seat. "You’re lucky I love you."

"Oh, I know I’m lucky, love," Steven replied with a smile. "Trust me, I know."

By the end of the night, after meeting his surprisingly friendly friends, you felt lighter. Steven held your hand the whole time, never once letting go. And as you both climbed back into the car, you looked at him and said, "You know, they’re not so bad."

"Not as bad as you thought?" he asked, winking.

You grinned, shaking your head. "No. But you’re still a dork."

He turned to you with a mischievous grin. "Yeah, but I’m your dork”

[flyingwargle]

miya twins week day 7: "do you think we're twins in every universe?"

atsumu opens his dream journal, picks up his pen, and starts writing.

i had the same dream again, the one where i’m like 7 or 8. i’m running to granny’s along the stream. there’s a boy behind me, and he gets further and further behind, until he trips and falls. he starts crying. i turn around and run back to him. this time, i say, “ya needa watch where yer goin’,” and he doesn’t say anything. i try to pull him up, but then i think the dream ends.

his dreams are always the same, always with the same boy, but never end the same way. once, he was the one who tripped while running along the stream, and the boy offered his hand. in another, they’re playing a sport in a gym, and he’d pass the ball to the boy to score. most of the times, he succeeds and they high-five, but a few times, he’d fail, and they fall in defeat.

his favorite dream, though, never changes. he and the boy are lying on the grass, watching the sky, pointing at shooting stars. despite being comforted, his chest would twist with sorrow or relief, depending on whether he dreams long enough to hear the conversation. he recorded it once, years ago, the page tear-stained, writing messy.

“hey,” i say, or maybe it’s the other kid, except we aren’t kids, but young adults. “do you think we’re twins in every universe?”

“what kinda dumbass question is that?” the other kid says, or maybe it’s me. it’s hard to tell, since we kinda sound the same. “of course we are. an’ even if we aren’t, we’ll find each other someway, somehow, somewhere." there’s so much conviction in his voice that i believe it, even though i never had a sibling. but it’s nice to know that maybe, in a past life, or just in my dreams, that i had a brother that i could rely on.

atsumu asked why he didn’t have a sibling, once. “it’s ‘cause yer pa an’ i can only handle one o’ ya,” ma said, ruffling his hair. “what, ya wish we didn’t give ya so much attention?” he laughed it off, but there were days when he’d return to a silent home, or struggle to fall asleep because of how empty his room felt. he loves his parents, but sometimes…it felt like something was missing.

or maybe someone.

when he was scouted by a university volleyball team in tokyo, he took it, saying goodbye to his high school friends and parents. in a city where it’s rare to see the same face twice, he loses himself in the crowds, meeting new people, learning from different coaches, experiencing campus life to its fullest. no matter what he did, though, the dreams didn’t stop, deepening his loneliness.

one night, he’s dragged to an izakaya with his teammates. atsumu sits at the bar, cheek in hand, thumbing through his dream journal while his beer gets warm. someone picks up the glass, and he snaps his head upwards, mouth opening when–

“i noticed yer beer’s been sittin’ fer a while. here’s a new one.”

“oh. thanks.” atsumu takes a sip, the cool, bitter liquid tickling his throat.

“whatcha readin’?”

“this? it’s nothin’, just my dream journal.”

the izakaya worker hums. “that’s pretty cool. not many people keep those.”

“yeah. i kept dreamin’ o’ the same things, so my doctor said i should write ‘em down. it’s always with this other boy that kinda looks an’ sounds like me.” atsumu chuckles to himself. “i’m startin’ ta think that he might be my twin o’ some sort. i guess the universe wanted us ta live separately, fer once.”

“that’s mighty interestin’.”

“ya don’t hafta pretend. i bet i don’t make much sense, with the beer an’ all.”

that earns him a laugh. “ya aren’t drinkin’ as much, compared ta yer teammates over there. i think yer fine.”

“thanks.” atsumu closes his journal. “ya got an accent. ya also from kansai?”

“yep. even though my family moved when i was young, tokyo never washed it out.”

“oh. whereabouts?”

“hyogo.”

atsumu gives pause. he straightens, finally locks eye with the izakaya worker. it’s like looking in a mirror – he has the same eyes, though hooded and dark gray, hair sweeping to the left. his chin is pointy, nose slightly crooked, muscles straining beneath his black t-shirt. “same,” atsumu whispers. “what’s yer name?”

“me? osamu. how 'bout ya?"

“atsumu. no surname?”

osamu falters, the corners of his mouth falling slightly. “sorry, bad habit. i always feel like i need ta use my given name, or else i’d get confused with someone else, even though no one has the same surname.”

“same.”

they stare at each other, gray against blonde. atsumu bites his bottom lip, fingers toying with the pages of his journal. then, he slides it forward. “i think ya should read this.”

after brief hesitation, osamu takes it and reads last night’s entry.

the boy and i, we’re in high school now. we’re arguing. we’ve argued before about like, stealing clothes or eating each other’s snacks, but this is different. i don’t remember how or why, but it just is, like we’re going separate ways, and it hurts, and neither of us want to admit it. i know, though, that deep down, we’d still be there for each other, and if one of us falls, the other would be there. my chest still feels tight, and i think i cried in my sleep, but i also feel…comforted? that someone i’ve never seen in my life has my back? will i ever meet him and learn who he is?

“i think it’s ya.” atsumu’s voice is quiet. “i think yer the twin that we’re supposed ta be, no matter the universe.”

osamu doesn’t say anything, just flips through some of the old entries until he stops, losing his breath. he lowers the journal, reaches for his shirt collar, and pulls it down to where a delicate moon tattoo sits on his collarbone. “when i was eighteen, i dreamed i was watchin’ the stars with someone, some boy that looks like me. we were talkin’, when the boy suddenly asked if we’d be twins in every universe. i said, o’ course, scrub, but when i woke up, i was alone. i never had a twin. i’ve always been an only child.” he releases his shirt, presses his hand over it. “i got this tattoo ta remind myself that someone out there is my sun, an’ i think…i think it’s ya.”

an’ even if we aren’t, we’ll find each other someway, somehow, somewhere. although the universe separated them, they still found each other, the moon to the sun, the silver to the gold, two halves of a whole, because not even fate can overwrite the inextricable bond between them.

brothers. if not by blood, then by choice. if not by choice, then in memory. forever, until the end of time.

[mushroompone]

@mutated-green-things

#9 on my Spotify Wrapped was Masterpiece Theatre I, the opener for one of my all-time favorite albums. It's a rock opera about identity and fame—and I think the lyrics work really well for our identity-crisis Sunset Shimmer and our wannabe rockstar Rainbow Dash :) I would highly recommend this whole album for blorbo rotation pruposes.

“So…” Rainbow carefully plucked the strings of her guitar. Without power, they only made hollow twangs—the whole thing felt childish in her hands. Fitting, really. “We don’t really, uh… hang out a lot. Just the two of us.”

Sunset tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Guess not.”

Rainbow nodded. “Yup.”

She continued to pick gently at her guitar, not really playing so much as filling silence. She chewed the inside of her cheek. Her eyes drifted over to the lyrics clutched in Sunset’s hands and she tried, as coolly as possible, to read at least a few words.

If I burn out And slip away…

“Y’know, we don’t have to—”

“I’m sorry, this is so—” Sunset cut herself off, casting Rainbow a glance. “Weird.”

“I-it’s not weird!” Rainbow insisted, though a poorly-timed voice crack betrayed her.

Sunset sighed. “It is.”

“Well… that’s cool, then,” Rainbow said. “We can just let it be weird. Right?”

Sunset drew the lyric sheet closer to her chest. “Can we?”

“Sure! I just…” Rainbow released the neck of her guitar and swiveled it to her side. “Why me?”

Sunset blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you could have asked Rarity,” Rainbow said. “She’s artsy and stuff. She’d be way better at the musical stuff. O-or Fluttershy—she’s so good with, uh… emotional junk. Or—”

“Remember when you first transformed?”

Rainbow paused. “Uh. You mean, like… the horse stuff?”

Sunset nodded.

“Sure.”

“You said something afterwards,” she went on. “You said, um… it was almost weirder not having the wings.”

Rainbow reached up to scratch the back of her head with one hand. “I did? Jeez.”

Sunset was quiet. She picked at the seam on her skirt with one nail, though not with destructive intent. Rainbow only watched her fingers twist and tug at the fabric. 

She had noticed the way Sunset… was. About a lot of things, but especially about herself. Her body, she supposed. She tended to change her clothing style suddenly and drastically—not something Rainbow would typically notice, so she guessed it must have been pretty extreme to catch her eye. She was pretty good-looking, but avoided photos. And mirrors, on occasion. Sometimes Rainbow would catch her in class just staring at her open palms and slowly curling her fingers inwards, one at a time.

Sunset’s grip on the lyric sheet relaxed and the paper crinkled as it expanded. She held it out to Rainbow Dash. “This is about… changing,” she said. “And I just thought you’d get it, y’know? More than the other girls.”

Rainbow silently took the paper.

You’re beautiful, can I hide in you awhile? But this is just a part I portray… And this is just a part I portray…

Send me a character/ship and a number (1-100)for a snippet inspired by my Spotify Wrapped!

[gerrydelano]

For the ask game! Either 2 (with Casey and Ayla), 12, or 13 please?

hello hello! i'll do 2 and 12 >:-)

ask game

2. share an excerpt of [Casey and Ayla] interacting, either selected from the work or written now.

(it's a bit chopped up because i can't put the Entire Prologue but alas this is all i have written fresh after my editor gave it back LOL)

[...]

Casey cries hard into his pillow until he hears his door creak open. He knows without looking that it isn’t one of his parents — they wouldn’t dream of coming up here so quietly, or so soon — so he twists to roll over and face his sister.

Ayla looks just as exhausted as he feels, but then, she always does. Her brown eyes are rimmed with shadows underneath, her shoulder-length hair limp and a shade darker with grease at the roots. As different as they look now that they’ve grown past the ages of matching clothes and haircuts, they can still mirror each other’s expressions. Her frown is still his frown.

Slowly, she crosses over to sit on the corner of his bed. “So… this is really happening, huh?”

Casey sniffs so hard that his sinuses ring. “Yeah. My blood cells have mutated into little paw print shapes.”

“Shut up,” she scoffs, kicking out a socked foot to tap his leg. “Seriously, are we sure?”

“It was a pretty basic sequence of events.” Casey lifts his bandaged hand; even after a few days, the bite mark is still sore, discolored. “I got bit, I got sick, I got tested, and now Pam hates me even more.”

“She never hated you to begin with,” Ayla mumbles. “She just… You know, she’s scared, or whatever.”

Falling back onto his pillow makes Casey’s head spin. “Yeah, well. I guess this is a little more scare-worthy than me being a big fat bisexual.”

It’s good that he can’t see her face while lying down. She always looks so despondent when the subject of their parents’ scorn bubbles back up to the surface. It’s been four years since Casey came out to them at thirteen, and they failed so spectacularly at taking it seriously that sometimes even he starts to forget.

“I guess,” Ayla agrees.

[...]

Casey snorts. “I almost wish [Dad]’d blame me or something, instead of just ignoring it. I mean, seriously, how stupid is it to ignore it? I’m going to turn into a giant animal that won’t fit in the house at some point, some point soon. You’d think he’d care enough to make some contingency plans about it.”

“Well, if we know he’s Dad and there’s a lot he’ll just never do, he probably knows we’re us, and that we will do stuff whether he contributes or not.” Ayla picks at her nails, some quite long, others ripped or bitten down. “Plus, you don’t want them to blame you. Not really.”

“Maybe they should this time.”

“Why?”

Casey drops the water bottle onto his blankets and pulls himself up to sit cross-legged, resting back against the headboard. He doesn’t know how to explain it to himself, let alone say it aloud.

There he was, sitting on the floor with Ryan, their legs just a hair too close to touching, their fingers dancing around each other’s in the popcorn bowl. There were glances, and then there was a pit in his stomach, and an urgent need to run or fight or disappear. Then came Colette, two years old and trundling in on huge, mischievous paws that dug into his stomach when she tried to lick at his face. Before he knew it, he was nudging her off of him once, twice with mounting force, laughing anxiously until suddenly she was growling and her jaws came down around his right hand. He cried out in pain, Ryan yelled for his parents, and there was no telling exactly who to punish for the mistake; the more Casey thinks about it, the more certain he is that it should be him.

“I don’t know, dude,” he settles on. “It just feels like something I could have avoided.”

Ayla looks down and away from him. She folds her hair behind her ear and he sees her deadened face and Casey realizes his mistake at a delay.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s cool,” she murmurs back. “Happens.”

Apologize, and move on. That’s all the advice she gave when she’d asked Casey to let go of his brother and welcome her in his place. The longer they keep the secret together, the harder it is to see any living evidence of the boy she’s still pretending to be.

Casey doesn’t know how she bears it. All he knows is what she told him when she told him who she really was last year; all their lives, she’s been following his lead, and that also meant picking up on what not to do. Don’t be overly emotional. Don’t tell anyone you’re queer. And whatever you do, don’t go to Mom and Dad. They’ll still love you, to some degree, but they just won’t understand.

“Are you scared?” she asks, shattering his thoughts. He has to take a moment to think.

“Think the only thing that scares me is doing it alone.”

Ayla nods, chewing her lip. “Yeah. I get that.”

“I know you do, yeah.”

An idea springs into his mind. Disgust flares in his every fiber, but try as he may to banish the thought and be kind, instead it comes flying out of his mouth.

“Do it with me.”

[...]

12. which scene/plot beat is your favorite? elaborate on why.

oh gosh that's hard HMMMM. i am very attached to the intro scene with casey and pruitt meeting, the ending scene where they stand off with pruitt's mom at the inlet, and a scene from the third book where samson, pruitt's partner in the paramilitary group he gets sucked into (Or Else They'll Kill Him), is assigned to kill philomena and her mom rosalind comes in swinging with a gun and kills him before he can hurt her too badly. fucking GO MOM.

[lostworldss]

Terror Fest Thoughts

(spoilers for the whole book)

Overall, I will say that I loved this book. It surprised me, I liked it a lot better than I thought I would. I enjoyed playing a MC that wasn't afraid to be mean and unhinged. I loved guessing who the killer was each week. While I would have preferred multiple killers, I think the Tyson reveal was pretty good. It was never too obvious to figure out, but there were some hints that could've made you question and put a lot of it together.

I liked the gameplay mechanics of hitting the killer in different spots or using different items. I wish there was a little more of the type that was in chapter 1 where you could interact with objects to escape.

I loved MC's coming around to the acceptance of Joseph Campbell plotline. On one hand, I did want to see MC learn to accept their family and namesake even if he was evil, because I think that would have been a strong character arc to have them learn to not let it define them and dictate so much of their life and the way they let people see them. But I do like that they made it so Joseph's Campbell's story kind of mirror's MC's in the way that they are both trying to protect their family. And I think it was a cool twist that this serial killer that the whole town sensationalized and became known for wasn't even an actual killer.

I really liked MC's character arc as whole (and specifically the way it mirrors Tyson's in a way). Starting with them being ashamed and dissatisfied with their family at the beginning of the book. Never feeling like Morilec was their home, never feeling a sense of family within their family, feeling like they never belonged in the group, leaving and trying to find themselves and their sense of belonging elsewhere/studying abroad, etc. And then throughout the story realizing that they do have a sense of family there, finding real family connections with their sister, finding out that they did always belong with the rest of the group, discovering their home in their physical home. The story starting off with them stepping off the ferry and admitting that they didn't want to come back, and then the ending scene being them willingly going back to the ferry dock to help other people get off. The circle is circling.

And I think this is an interesting juxtaposition to some of Tyson's storyline as well. Because Tyson always saw Morilec as his home, his only home, in fact. Always feeling like the group was his only family, getting rejected when he tried to find family elsewhere (college frat), doing everything he can to keep what he sees as his only family together, even if it's in a twisted way. And then being told by MC that his family and home isn't always going to stay the same with him forever, you have to go out and find more of your home in other people and experiences as well.

And I just think that's an interesting trajectory for the both of them. To seemingly start on opposite sides of that spectrum, but learning throughout the story that there's more to what they see as their home than they realize, and particularly with it being directed towards the other's initial point of view. And also neither of them being able to full realize all this without the actions of the other.

I do wish there was more of an epilogue after the battle, it felt like it ended so quick after that. I would have liked to see what they were all doing next. It disappoints me a bit when you go through so much fighting and angst in a book just to not even get to see the happy ending of what that was all for afterword. What was even the point of making things official with a LI in ch.8 if that had no effect on anything? (It's fine, I'll just come up with my own headcanons to fill in the gaps. It IS canon to me that MC, Zaire, and Lucky/Koda spend all their holidays together and are there for each other as actual family).

Another thing is that I wish there were a few more chapters just to expand on the character relationships a bit more. If Tyson's whole motivation is that he loved this group so much, then I wish we got to see more of that, to better understand what he is doing all this for. I would have loved to get more depth about MC and Destiny's relationship as well. I personally like what they did with them, but it definitely was rushed and they could have done a lot more to make the emotional impact they were going for fall less flat. I think generally they made Destiny seem too unlikable in the beginning and it was hard to come back from that in the short time that they gave. I personally like Destiny and what she represents, but I can see why many other players aren't happy to forgive her. I might just make another post eventually about MC and Destiny's relationship because I think it's interesting, but overall I like what they did with them.

I think the biggest thing that I didn't like was Bex. What was she even in the book for? I was so sure that she was going to be the second killer and that's why they didn't give her character any closure. But no, they just killed her offscreen and that was it. I'm assuming she was there just to have another secondary character to be suspicious of, and also maybe to have another similarity to Scream (overeager nosy annoying the protagonist reporter character).

I did love all the references and homages to Scream and other classic slashers. It felt honest to the genre but also was unique enough of an idea that felt fresh and interesting to me. It even included some of the same horror/slasher movie logic where smart ideas and things that would solve problems easier suddenly don't exist because that would just be too easy. Destiny's phone, the phone tracker app, never bringing weapons to defend ourselves. I'm choosing not to see this as a flaw because it fits the genre.

Also, I think this is the first choices book I've played where I couldn't decide between 2 LIs. Can you guess which two. It's funny, because the game decided for me. I went into it planning to have MC romance Koda because he's fine af, but THEN Lucky carried MC to safety like a knight in shining armor and softly took care of their wounds and said that she would always be there to care for them…something shifted/everything changed. So then, I chose to romance them both but couldn't decide which one I wanted to be endgame. This game saw my indecisive ass and chose for me. But as sad as it made me to lose Koda, I can't play the game the other way around because now I'm too attached to Lucky. It was a ballsy move for them to kill off a LI, but I think they pulled off the emotional weight of it pretty well.

Terror Fest is a really good title for this book, because this IS a story about Fear. But not just fear of stereotypical scary horror movie stuff though. Primarily, fear of change. fear of life. fear of growing up. fear of having to move on. fear of having to venture into the unknown and try new things. fear of what you can't control. fear of being seen as weak. fear of letting people in. fear of intimacy. fear of not being needed. fear of the truth. fear of being alone. everyday fears

These are the truly scary things in real life that affect us all.

I’m not sure if the writers intended for it to be seen that way or maybe it’s just me, but either way I think it’s brilliant.

[swannerina]

⋆˙⟡ — A Cup of Coffee

WORDCOUNT: 812

⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ Just a sip of Warm Tea ⟡ ˖ ࣪

“CECIL HELP ME I’M GONNA DIE.”

Hazel said, pacing around the room like an insane maniac. She was very nervous for her date with Rei that night. The other day, she had already gone shopping for a dress with Yvette, and now she needed Cecils.. emotional support I guess? Cecil would just stare at Hazel who was going around the room like a nervous-wreck.

“You look like you’re going insane.” Cecil exclaimed.

“BECAUSE I AM!” Hazel replied.

Rei had already reserved dinner at an expensive Japanese restaurant in town, so there was no going back now. Hazel looked at the time.

“Oh god, I have to get ready!” She said, her tone panicked.

Hazel then went to the bathroom and changed her outfit to the new dress she bought. After changing, she looked at herself in the mirror and said,

“You can do this, it’s just a.. Small date.. Small..”

Hazel would sob dramatically, before falling to the ground. Cecil went into the bathroom to check on Hazel, and would sigh as she stared at the girls maniacal state.

“Hazel, stop being dramatic.”

She said, scolding her. Hazel was definitely being a bit.. over-dramatic that day. This made Cecil go insane, as Hazel kept asking Cecil for help as she begged on her knees.

“How am I supposed to help—”

“I don’t know, give me emotional support or something?!”

She begged, in a somewhat crazed state. Hazel was clearly—very nervous. Cecil would mutter something under her breath, before helping Hazel to stand up.

“Alright, alright, Chill girl.” Cecil said.

“Listen to me, you are very capable of going on this date.. and.. uhm—”

“I’M GONNA DI—”

“AND YOU ARE NOT GONNA DIE.” Cecil interrupted.

Hazel would then take a deep breath in, before standing up straight. She mumbled some words of encouragement to herself, before declaring,

“Alright, I’m ready—I think..”

“Great, now go out there, be yourself, and have a good time.” Cecil exclaimed as she pushed Hazel outside of the dorm, before immediately closing the door.

Welp, this was it.. Hazel was damned to fail this date.. right? Well, only one way to find out—going on the date.

Hazel then walked towards the elevator of the campus to leave, and entered. While in the elevator, on the 3rd floor Rei came in.

“Hazel?”

“R-Rei! A-ah, coincidence that here we meet.. haha.. hah. .”

Hazel said, in an almost whisper-like voice. Her words had already twisted, and her grammar had gone poof. Welp..—this was it for her.. Better start digging her grave I guess..

[ I want to kill myself. Why am I so nervous around him now?. . . ]

Rei was somewhat nervous, but kept his cool and kept on a calm demeanor—despite being the opposite. The silence in the elevator was painful to say the least, and the two of them hated it. Rei then finally decided to break the silence, muttering a simple

“So.. Do you wanna walk to the place? It’s more convenient anyway.. right?..”

He asked, stuttering a bit, his voice slightly nervous. He was able to put on a calm demeanor, but he wasn’t the best at using his words.

Hazel's eyes would widen at this, I mean—It was a pretty logical thing since they were heading to the same place but.. It just made Hazel even more nervous. Being at a loss for words, Hazel simply nodded.

Rei nodded as well, being tongue tied and silent. The two then stepped out of the elevator after what felt like.. an eternity. Rei then lightly touched her hand as they walked side by side, Hazel not knowing what to do, simply let it happen.

Rei then took a bold move, and intertwined their hands. He would caress her hands, the movement of his hands gentle and soft.

Hazel would become flushed at the warmth of his hand touching her hand. She was taken aback by this bold move, yet simply stayed silent throughout their walk.

The two would never admit it, but they very much enjoyed the comfort and warmth of each other's hands.

Rei then remembered his conversation with River before the date:

“Hey riv, I’m goin’ out on that date I mentioned kay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t be too bold, just crack jokes or something lmao.”

“Yeah, yeah. Not like I’d try anything too big..”

“With self-esteem like that, you’re practically lying to yourself.”

[ Flashback ends. ]

Rei would sigh, guess River was right about him being way too bold.. Whatever, not like it mattered anyway—It honestly made the experience a lot better and more comforting.

The cold air was perfect in contrast to their warm bodies. And the moonlight touching their skin made the scene ever so more romantic.

Maybe Hazel was overthinking.. maybe, just maybe—this would end up being the perfect night. The warmth of each other's bodies made it feel like just a sip of warm tea.

AUTHORS NOTE: Super rushed lmao but hope u enjoy :3

[3ofpents]

Jackalope Damask // Fabric design for @shapeshiftersvt and The Cryptid Collection

Oops this one is my favorite.

I want to be extremely clear that the Jackalope Damask being my favorite of the designs absolutely does not mean that I think any of the other designs are lesser or worse. I think this one just really hits that sweet spot for me of "normal fabric pattern" and "not normal fabric pattern subject". Also in a really detailed way that I wasn't sure if I could pull off.

Let me explain. I'm the type of person who, in my day-to-day life, prefers to bring bits of fandom along with me in subtle ways. I don't like wearing shirts with anime characters on them (y'know, outside of fandom spaces). Not that there's anything wrong with people who do, I just don't like the idea of strangers knowing things about me, I guess. I have five tattoos, four of them are fandom tattoos and one of them is a tarot tattoo, but you'd never guess that from looking at them. Like, there's the Dark Tower tattoo that's just a compass rose with 12 spokes instead of the usual 8, and a red rose in the center; there's the Ayashi no Ceres tattoo that's the astrological symbol for the Juno asteroid; there's the Batman and Robin(s) tattoo that's just a bat and two littler bats; there's the blue mushrooms tattoo that's a reference to one of my DnD characters; and then the mermaid which has some typical and some atypical symbology related to the Star and Strength cards.

I just prefer it when something doesn't seem really out of the ordinary, unless you look closely, or already know the secret. So when it came to brainstorming fabric designs, my approach to all of them was, at least initially, "how do I make this cryptid into something you'd expect to see as a fabric pattern". Hence my very first thought being the Fresno Nightcrawler Houndstooth.

(Obviously I was more successful doing that with some than with others.)

When it came to the Jackalope, I think I had one idea and one idea only: A damask.

I was thinking about the original Jackalope taxidermy project by the Douglas brothers (that eventually boomed into an entire industry) where they attached a pair of antlers to a jackrabbit head and mounted it to a wooden plaque in the style of a hunting trophy. And thinking about the "V" shape of the antlers and the way antlers can branch and twist. And, if done right, a straight-on illustration of a Jackalope head could create a pattern not unlike a classic damask.

I don't know if this is a requirement to be considered damask, but most of the ones I've seen have this diamond-ish shape to them, like this one:

And I knew if I made the antlers long enough, made them nice and branch-y and mirrored them down, I could create that intricate, detailed, diamond-ish shape.

But, like I said, I didn't know if I could pull it off. I have historically struggled with drawing natural, organic things. I think this poster project has helped me crack the code to how to draw things like rocks and water utilizing how I draw. But animals and people still kind of elude me. I just don't have the patience to get really into the details of anatomy. Like ask me to draw a meadow blade of grass by blade of grass, I'm cool with that, I love it, I guess it's kind of like knitting where I'm just doing the same thing over and over and can zone out with it. But all the details in an eyeball or a nose are different, I don't know what to tell you.

Plus, I've pretty much settled into this color-blocking style that I cribbed from the National Parks Service's travel poster series from the '30s and also a little bit from Toulouse Lautrec. And I wasn't sure if I could utilize it in a way to make a Jackalope head that was 1) recognizable, and 2) looked good.

But guys ...

I think it looks pretty damn good! Again, I used a couple of different photos of jackrabbits as a reference and took different elements to get the kind of look and balance I wanted and needed.

And this was the other one I was talking about, where I adapted elements of the poster, but not in a very obvious way:

Every color on the Jackalope's face save the dark brown was pulled from the poster. And this was the only one where I used that color blocking drawing technique to actually draw the cryptid in detail. All of the other cryptids are either in silhouette (I'm counting the Fresno Nightcrawler in that since it's a solid color save for it's eyes) or are just a pair of eyes and some other referential element.

And I worked really hard on that head. Like, some of the designs, like Champ, took a long time because it was a whole scene; because there were a lot of elements to get right, to fit together perfectly. But with this there was just one thing. There was just a rabbit head with antlers and a completely solid background and the whole pattern was just going to be be that one head repeated over and over. I agonized over the color blocking on the head, I agonized over the shape of the antlers, I agonized over the color of the mirrored antlers so they'd still be present visually but still fall into the background a bit.

And I love how it came out.

You know, I guess the other thing about this design is that it and the Squonk are truly my babies. Eli's runway looks for both of these cryptids are more along the lines of turning the cryptid into a garment than the other looks. So they ended up not incorporating my fabric designs into those looks, and that meant they didn't have any specific needs for what the design was or how it looked. So I got to just play around a smidgen more with these two than I did for the others.

And you guys should see it in person, god. The sport lycra we get custom designs printed on from Spoonflower has just a slight sheen to it that, with the specific shade of green on the background, makes the fabric almost look like there's a slight gold duochrome effect. At least right out of the box. I haven't seen it after a wash yet.

Anyway, to repeat myself for the umpeenth time, if you're interested in a binder or sports bra with this fabric design like the ones pictured above, you can find them (and the poster print) here on the Shapeshifters website. There's a small and medium version of the print.

Or if you want to buy the fabrics for your own sewing projects, you can get both size prints through our Spoonflower shop.

[canadiancryptid]

So, I did a poll like a month ago seeing if people wanted to know a little more about me, and then I forgot to actually do anything with it. Completely forgot what sort of things I was going to say but I have a couple things here.

9 People I'd Like to Know Better Game!

@msbadatnamingthings tagged me in a "get to know you better" game like 2 months ago that I kind forgot about. I had a few questions answered and then it just kinda got lost to the void of my drafts pile like so many other things. Sorry about that, but I'm remembering now!

last song: Deltarune the (not) Musical - The Field of Hopes and Dreams

favorite color: purple

last movie/last tv show: just finished The Ghost and Molly McGee :(

sweet/spicy/savory: savory

relationship status: single

last thing i googled: I think it was something about how the education system works in Minnesota. Trying to work on a fic around a certain character. Probably not hard to guess which one.

current obsession: Infinity Train never went away and likely never will, but I've recently been obsessing over Deltarune again

I also got a couple questions on the original poll from @keliana856! Finally getting to them! Whoo!

1: Lake and the entire concept of the Mirror World. The entire concept is so interesting to me, and I feel like it really doesn't get talked about enough. We get the basic premise of how it works in Book 1, but other than that, most of it is left unexplained. We learn some more from Lake when she's talking to the Flecs and answering some of Jesse's questions, but that's about it. We don't even know if the existence of the Mirror World is connected to the Train or not. Its such a cool concept and I love thinking about it.

Lake is my favorite character in the whole show, BY FAR. Her story is amazing, her dynamic with Jesse is incredible, and her introduction and entire first episode were one of the best things I've ever watched. I love thinking about her complicated relationship with Tulip and what might happen if they ever saw each other again. The finale of Book 2 was the first show that made me immediately want to go on Ao3 just to see more of her adapting to life on Earth. I already loved the show, but Lake and her story were what cemented it as my favorite show.

2: I've always been a fan of the supernatural. Fantasy, Modern Fantasy, mythology, and to some extent Sci-fi. (Still love it, just think I generally prefer the other stuff) It's a lot of fun to think about and see explored in fiction. I was a huge fan of mythology and Rick Riordan's books as a kid, so seeing Percy Jackson being adapted into a show has been AMAZING. The movies were frankly terrible, but that's a rant on its own. Outside of that, I like stories with a mystery to solve and twists that you COULD have seen coming with what was provided but probably didn't. It's fun seeing how communities can come together to find secrets and discuss things. Found Family is another one of my favorite themes. Not sure I need much of an explanation there. It's just an amazing trope to see.

When it comes to video games, I love RPGs, metroidvanias, platformers and puzzle games. I play a lot of different types of games, but those are my favorites. I don't talk about it much on here, but I'm a programmer. I'm still learning, but making games is my DREAM. There are so many ways to tell a story through the medium that you can't get anywhere else. The interactive nature of a game allows for so much exploration of the characters and world at large, and I love it. Rather than just watching the story play out on screen, you get to be a part of it. I love games that get a little meta. Games that make the player a part of the story like Oneshot, Deltarune and Undertale. I like games that take the established mechanics of a game and make it a part of the world. Underhero is a game that does this well. Pretty much every part of the game has some in-universe explanation as you progress through the amazing story. The game is incredibly underrated; I highly recommend it.

So, yeah. When it comes to games, I love stories that embrace their nature as a game and make it a part of the world. Video games are truly unique among storytelling mediums, and I love seeing it used as such. You don't really see any other mediums doing things like that, but it's always cool to see.

In no particular order, some of my favorite stories recently have been: Infinity Train, The Owl House, Steven Universe, Gwenpool, Nimona, Spy x Family, Spiderverse, Fionna and Cake, Oneshot, Undertale, Deltarune, Underhero, Epithet Erased, and the Percy Jackson series as a whole.

I think that's it for now. If anyone has anything else they'd like to hear me talk about, my ask box is always open!

[amethystina]

Just saw episode 7 and wauw.

I don't know why but I always feel too stupid to follow this show. But I always come back because there is so much going on and I do enjoy watching all the manipulations and stuff happen.

Though it was not cool to use Ga On's past like that in the court room. And than that heartbreaking revelation in the prison! I wonder what that will to to Ga On.

Sun-ah is kinda cool, in a terrifying way. That last scene she had with the chairman, that beautiful white dress she wore( and how it was then stained red, so damn powerful). I instantly had the feeling that 'silencing her forever' would be a bad idea. Glad to know I was right. 😊

Ga on is sort of a ray of sunshine but not quite. He does have a dark side to him and I guess Judge Kang saw that almost instantly.

I think the only real ray of sunshine (for now) is Judge Oh

This show does take you for quite a ride, yes, and some things won't be answered/made final until the very last episode. But that also means that the rewatch value is pretty high, if you ask me. I found it very interesting to watch it a second time and see just how much my understanding of certain scenes changed.

And, tbh, it made Yo Han's characterisation even better for me. I tend to soak up details about people's behaviour and personalities like a sponge but, sometimes, I don't always know what all of it MEANS. Sometimes I need the full picture before all of it makes sense. And Yo Han was one of those characters. I couldn't be sure if my reading of his character was correct until the very last episode, because only then did I have all the (available) information and could formulate my final analysis.

But yeah! There are a lot of twists and turns! And it's wonderfully executed!

Yo Han using Ga On's parents' deaths to his advantage is one of those things that just... well, it sucks, plain and simple xD And I think Ga On has every right to be angry about that for YEARS to come, if he so wants to. It was a shitty move.

Ga On has it rough in episode 7. That poor boy.

Sun Ah is SPECTACULAR. But also very intimidating. I LOVE her as a character and how she's more or less the female equivalent of Yo Han, just with some added twists and nuances. Or he's the male equivalent of her — however you want to put it. They're mirrored, anyway. And I quite like that.

I do like that Ga On can be both soft and caring but also very, very dark. It gives him a lot of depth.

Oh Jin Joo is my QUEEN and yes, she's a ray of sunshine! She does have her moments too but, overall, she's just lovely.

[mediocres-writing-blog]

Mortal Kombat: The Requiem Mirror; Chapter 5: Frienemy small talk

Later that night, Siris sneaks out of her room, to some place in town to a fast food place to meet up with Robin, now with a casual outfit. She sits on the opposite side of his table, and they begin their little chat.

Siris: You waited here for me, Robin?

Robin: Yeah, and, just call me Nico, thats my name.

Billie: Billie. So, you wanted to see me?

Nico (Robin): Yeah, thought it'd be a nice change of scenery. Plus, after all that intense action and fighting, I figured a burger and fries might be a good way to unwind.

Billie (Siris): (Smiles) I can't argue with that. It's been a while since I've had something other than camp rations.

Nico: Yeah, I can imagine. So, Billie, that's a cool name. I've gotta admit, you had me fooled with the whole "Siris" thing.

Billie: (Laughs) Well, you weren't the only one with a secret identity. But hey, it's nice to finally meet you without all the chaos around us.

Nico: Agreed. I've been curious about you ever since that tournament. I mean, we make a pretty good team in a fight, but I feel like there's more to you than meets the eye.

Billie: (Raises an eyebrow) Really? And what's that supposed to mean?

Nico: (Grinning) Oh, come on, Billie. You're a mystery wrapped in an enigma. But in a good way. I've got a feeling you've got some interesting stories to share.

Billie: (Chuckles) Maybe I do. But don't think I'm the only one with secrets. I mean, "Red Robin" isn't exactly a straightforward name either.

Nico: (Nods) Fair point. Well, maybe we can share some of those secrets over burgers and fries.

Billie: Sounds like a plan. So, Nico, tell me more about yourself. What's your story?

And so, over fast food, Nico (Robin) and Billie (Siris) begin to exchange stories, getting to know each other better outside the chaos of their battles. Their friendship grows as they share their pasts, dreams, and hopes for the future.

Nico: Huh, I... don't know what else to say other than "damn, my squads boss took your hand after *you* broke into the Special Forces base?" 'Cause, even though its your fault, that is some messed up stuff.

Billie: (Nods) Yeah, I can't deny that it's a pretty crazy story. I mean, you're not exactly your average teenage vigilante either. But hey, life's full of unexpected twists, right?

Nico: (Smirks) That's true. I guess it's all part of the fun when you're involved in this whole world of martial arts, superpowers, and secret organizations.

Billie: (Laughs) Fun, huh? Yeah, I suppose it is in its own way. So, what's next for you, Nico? Got any plans?

Nico: Well, I'm still sorting things out. Maybe more hero work, but definitely some more time to relax. And I'm curious, Billie, what's on your agenda now?

Billie: (Pauses) I've got some things to take care of, but I think it's time for me to embrace my Black Dragon heritage in my own way. I'll do my best to honor what my parents and our clan stand for. And who knows, maybe I'll find some balance in all of this.

Nico: (Smiles) Balance is important, especially in our line of work. Just remember, you've got allies who've got your back. If you ever need help or just someone to chat with, I'm here.

Billie: Thanks, Nico. I appreciate that. And the feeling is mutual. We make a pretty good team in a fight, and I think we can be great friends too.

Nico: (Nods) Agreed. Here's to the future, Billie, and whatever adventures it may bring.

And so, Nico (Robin) and Billie (Siris) share their thoughts and plans for the future, forging a bond that goes beyond their past battles and secrets. Nico and Billie walk out and go their sepperate ways. While exchanging very mild insults on the way.

Nico: You want a rematch some other time?

Billie: Of course, fight ya later, ya Special Forces dog!

Nico: You too, you Black Draggin' scum. Whoops, tautology!

Nico and Billie part ways, their banter a testament to the unique friendship that has developed between them. As they go their separate paths, it's clear that their next encounter, whether in battle or a friendly spar, will be filled with the same spirit of competition and camaraderie. Billie sneaks back into her room, closing the window.

Billie: *Phew*,  I think no one noticed that I was gone.

Skarlet, standing at the door: Guess again.

Skarlet's sudden appearance takes Billie by surprise, and her heart skips a beat as she realizes she's been caught.

Skarlet: Sneaking out for a rendezvous, are we?

Billie: Mom, it's not what it looks like!

Skarlet: Spare me the excuses, young lady. We'll talk about this in the morning. For now, get some rest.

Billie reluctantly nods and climbs into bed, knowing that a discussion with her mother is inevitable.

Skarlet: And no more sneaking out, understood?

Billie: Understood, Mom.

With that, Skarlet kisses her daughters forehead and closes the door, leaving Billie to reflect on her eventful night and the conversation that awaits her in the morning.

meanwhile, a similar thing happens when Nico sneaks back into the Special Forces Headquarters. As Nico sneaks back into the Special Forces Headquarters, he knows he has to be careful not to get caught. However, luck is not on his side, and he's met with an unexpected encounter.

Sonya Blade, who is waiting in the hallway, arms crossed and a stern expression on her face, steps forward as she spots Nico.

Sonya: And where have you been, Robin?

Nico: Uh, just... out for some fresh air, General.

Sonya: Fresh air in the middle of the night, and without notifying anyone? I don't think so. You're going to have some explaining to do in the morning.

Nico: General Blade, I can explain...

Sonya: Save it for the debriefing. Get some rest, and we'll discuss this tomorrow.

Nico nods reluctantly, knowing that he'll have to face the consequences of his late-night snack with Billie. With that, he heads to his quarters, his mind racing with thoughts of the impending conversation. Nico and Billie carefully craft their excuses to hide the true nature of their late-night activities.

Nico explains to Commander Sonya Blade that he had been working on a secret mission for the Special Forces, involving undercover operations. He claims that he needed to meet a confidential informant who had information about a potential threat to Earthrealm. Sonya listens intently, her stern expression showing hints of understanding.

Billie, on the other hand, tells her mother, Skarlet, that she had trouble sleeping and decided to go for a late-night walk to clear her mind. She mentions that she went to a nearby fast food place and had a quiet meal by herself. Skarlet, although somewhat suspicious, decides not to press the matter further. Skarlet, realized that this was far from the truth, later checked on her daughter to see what she was really doing that night. Skarlet couldn't shake off her lingering suspicion about her daughter, Billie, and decided to investigate further. Late at night, when she believed Billie was fast asleep, Skarlet silently entered her daughter's room. As she looked around, she noticed an open window that had been left slightly ajar. It was clear that Billie had indeed left the room during the night. Skarlet grew increasingly concerned and puzzled by this discovery. Next, she checked Billie's personal belongings and found a piece of paper with a note written on it. The note mentioned a secret meeting at a fast food place and included the name "Nico." Skarlet's curiosity deepened, and she began to connect the dots. Quietly, Skarlet left Billie's room and decided to confront her daughter in the morning. She needed to get to the bottom of the situation and ensure Billie's safety. However, she also wanted to give her daughter a chance to explain herself and reveal any potential dangers she might be facing. The following morning, Skarlet sat down with Billie, her expression stern yet concerned.

Skarlet: Billie, I noticed something unusual last night. Can you explain where you really went and why you've been involved with this 'Nico' person?

Billie hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with her mother. She knew that keeping secrets would only lead to more problems, and she trusted her mother enough to share the truth.

Billie: I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to keep anything from you. Last night, I met up with Nico, who's actually a guy from the Special Forces. We just talked, and it wasn't anything dangerous. You see, I've been feeling a bit conflicted, especially with everything that's been happening lately.

Skarlet raised an eyebrow, still listening intently.

Billie: I wanted to get to know him better, to understand the other side, I guess. But it wasn't about betraying the Black Dragon. I would never do that. I just thought it might help me see things from different perspectives.

Skarlet nodded, understanding her daughter's curiosity and the need to explore her own identity.

Skarlet: I appreciate your honesty, Billie. It's important that you communicate with me. I can't protect you if I don't know what's going on. Just promise me you'll be careful and not put yourself in any dangerous situations.

Billie: I promise, Mom. I won't do anything that could jeopardize our family or the Black Dragon.

Skarlet: "Good. We'll always be there for you, but we also need to ensure your safety. Remember that you don't have to explore everything on your own. You have us to guide you."

Billie smiled, relieved to have shared her thoughts with her mother, and they both knew that their bond was stronger than ever.

[ortizselene]

Selene mirrors Kieran's movements and reaches for her own glass; the beer slides down throat, cold, cooling, tart.

Why didn't she indulge in the simple more often?

In that moment, Selene very much doubts the expensive wines and spirits of their parents could hope the refreshment of something as cheap as this beer.

And now that they owned it— well, were going to — the pair of them could ensure that the stocking never changed, that back of the bar was always lined with the same kegs of what her father would no doubt pronounce as swill. This would all be just for them.

She again watches the motion of Kieran's throat as he drinks, humming when he agrees. Yeah. They could use a bender or two. Maybe thirty.

'It’s crazy that you did all of that stuff and your dad still wasn’t happy.'

'You were pretty perfect back then.'

Selene's eyebrows climb high, eyes rounding in surprised pleasure. She'd known Kieran for a decade, they'd seen each other through every kind of peak and valley, and still the compliment warms her like the praises of a school crush.

"Well. Not very perfect. I just used like six different planners."

Still— Selene peers down into her beer, cheeks aching from the force it takes to tamp down her smile. But she can't stare for long. She can feel Kieran's gaze upon her, compelling her upwards, and so her eyes lift, blue and brown staring at across each other from the booth. Kieran smiles at her again, and for a moment it shatters the hard shell of her father's disappointment that had layered and lacquered over her heart.

'I was always so fucking impressed by you. And jealous,'

'But not... not jealous in a bad way. It wasn't envy, I guess, I just ... wished I could do that, too.'

Her lip twitches.

"I was always super jealous, too. Not like in a bad way either, but in ... like, I wish I had your leadership skills, kinda thing. You always knew how assertive to be. Obviously still do."

Her finger skates round the bottom of her glass.

It made something curdle within her— irritation, that his father was so blind. Always refusing to acknowledge that the traits and instincts others took years to hone were inside Kieran in the beginning. In mock projects at school, during internships, Kieran always seemed to know exactly how much pressure to apply.

It was something that made his own compliments feel so good. Selene was good at data, could always read numbers like a mother tongue, but Kieran was the one to know the lay of the land and the killing strike.

Why had their fathers treated them like that? A misguided effort to help them grow? Or did their parents truly look upon them and see inadequacy?

It's an uncomfortable question, and another answer from another uncomfortable question strikes her: Kieran deserved to be CEO. Selene knew that, of course, she always knew and believed that, but sitting here in the bar only made the obvious burn all the more brighter. Guilt curdles within her.

Selene isn't really thinking when she itches at her palm, scratching, opposite fingers trailing higher and higher until her nail scratches underneath the band of her engagement ring.

Oh.

Selene retracts both hands into her lap, and she isn't really realizing what she's doing— twisting it off her her finger, just for a moment, because it feels uncomfortable, and the alcohol is making her skin sing.

"Well," Selene says, and she smiles at Kieran for a long moment, admiring how he looks under the honeyed bar light. So charming and collegiate, like from a decade before, but now there was a mantle of ... something else. Even more sturdy and handsome and masculine.

"I suppose its nice to know our parent's treatment of us isn't because of a lack of talent."

Nice, or sad, or maybe, in something more complicated, it was nice to feel understood, to feel like someone else was in your corner and experiencing the same thing.

Sometimes, Kieran forgot about all of the hell that he went through in college. Or maybe it didn’t feel like hell at the time because Selene was always by his side. Looking back on it now, it was impressive how committed Kieran was to his family. He felt … less like that, nowadays, and he felt guilty for it.

“It’s just what you do for family,” his father would say. “You drop everything for your family. You understand me?”

And Kieran would nod, and Kieran actually believed it. It was an oath that Kieran wouldn’t dare break. But looking back on it now, he shouldn’t have been the one looking after Kane. He shouldn’t have been the one talking Kaia through whatever crisis had struck that week. He didn’t resent her for it, but his parents should have been more present.

All those years of putting his family first, and this is where it’got him: not even in the conversation to take over the family business, alone, and running away from his family.

“I think we definitely deserve a bender,” Kieran replied, nodding, reaching for the beer in front of him. He took another sip, thought about how perfect and organized Selene was in college, and it still wasn’t enough for her father. It made him angry for her, and it had made him angry then, too.

“It’s crazy that you did all of that stuff and your dad still wasn’t happy.” Kieran shook his head. He placed his beer back on the counter, searching for Selene’s gaze.

“You were pretty perfect back then.”

His face felt warm at the admission, but it was a very clear fact. Anyone else would've thought the same.

“You got the perfect grades. I’ve never seen anyone absorb textbooks and lectures the way you did. And even aside from all of the academic stuff, outside of school, you were so … organized and structured.”

Kieran smiled.

“I was always so fucking impressed by you. And jealous," Kieran added. "But not... not jealous in a bad way. It wasn't envy, I guess, I just ... wished I could do that, too."

[piningpercussionist]

i knew you could do it kim, congrats ❤️

(ooc: it is extremely fun to use asks like this)

Kim taps her fingers against the rim of the sink, staring at herself in the mirror. What the hell are you doing, Kim? she asks herself, trying to keep measured breaths. She's replaying herself back, in her mind; from before the party to now, in the wake of it, struggling to adjust to the tide.

She'd had her cool when she'd first shut the door, but once she'd gone to dry her hands, she'd met her own eyes and was stuck in a bit of a loop with herself once again. Back and forth she'd go with herself, trying to muster up the nerve to step back out of the room.

Just open the god damn fucking door and go out there... toughen the fuck up.

And yet, somehow, the added expletive from the last time she'd insisted such doesn't provide the additionally spurring that she wanted. She wasn't even sure what the roadblock here was, necessarily; was it just the usual distrust? Unkillable, ugly thing- but a useful tool, perhaps simply trying to serve its purpose... The corner of Kim's lip twitches downward, eyes narrowing.

She'd be right to be distrustful, wouldn't she? Every time something's going right for her, it falls on its face- so how can Ramona make such bold claims? Especially given the woman's history! The track record so far with her partners hasn't exactly been the greatest; it isn't exactly a comfort to think back on some of them now, and how things ended for them, finally breaking her leering match to look down into the churning water.

She slowly shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Just thinking that's made her feel guilty, something heavy twisting uncomfortably in her chest. How can she even think that, still? After the way Ramona had so sweetly held her, and tried to reassure- even when she'd been pulling back from it, though unconsciously. She'd really believed what she was saying- that's what Kim had thought, at least, when she was searching her eyes the whole while. I really am a bitch, aren't I?

She grits her teeth and turns around, leaning back against the sink to prevent another staring contest. She listens to the water rush as she resumes her tapping, now facing a new problem. She didn't want to go out there with this heavy guilt still twisting her up... even if it would probably resolve things neatly.

She takes out her phone and navigates to her inbox, looking for a distraction- and apparently it's just the place; she sees a couple waiting for her, and sets about reading the first.

Seeing the familiar name, she actually smiles, sitting up a little. She still remembers her embarrassed agitation at the prodding, the night before, and how they'd even apologized later, even if a little flirty- and still riling her up for what she'd inevitably do, as acknowledged here.

Were you at Julie's party, or did you hear about it somewhere? Good grief... Thank you though, I guess. I blame whatever the hell Julie had at the drink table last night.

She answers the message privately, shaking her head a little. But then she stops, thinking again. They'd been alone in the room, save for the bunny apparently- or at least, she was pretty sure they were. Shit... Probably all the stragglers I was pushing over dragging Ramona out of there...

..That was so stupid, of course people were gonna know- they'd probably hit the nail just by assuming. That was a ludicrously bold move on her part, and were it not for the excuse of the booze, she'd be an idiot for not having considering that.

Trying not to kick herself too hard over it, she clicks her tongue in mild agitation, opening the next message.